Dear Dr. Babooner,

They say it is the custom to disguise one’s identity when addressing the great Dr. Babooner, but I am not afraid! My greatness and your greatness can stand side by side because there is something about your face that tells me we are like a brother and sister.

As my sister, you will already know that I do not ask for advice – I share my wisdom with the people. What I have for you today is this – when you are told you must leave a place, especially if it is a place where you have been comfortable for quite some time, it is best to be defiant! Yes, one could pitch one’s tent elsewhere, but the world is unkind to those who are easily dislodged. Jet lag, for example, is God’s vengeance on the weak-willed. Boldly express your insanity and make your critics move instead!

I have no question other than this: How magnificent am I?

Irrationally,
Moammar

I told Moammar he did not appear at all on my personal magnificence chart, but as a provocative, incoherent ranter he is right up there with Charlie Sheen. Saying fatuous, inexplicable things is a well-trod path to getting attention in the world today. However, a publicity-seeking person taking the crazy dictator approach should know when to cash in and move on. Given what I’ve heard about his personal situation at this point, if offered a slot on a reality show, Moammar should take it. Donald Trump’s “The Apprentice” would be a perfect vehicle for him. Perhaps the next season could also include Mr. Sheen for a guaranteed ratings bonanza in the first week at least. But it would be wise to get paid in advance.

I did allow that he might have a point about jet lag.
But that’s just one opinion. What do YOU think, Dr. Babooner?

I’m trying, with mixed success, to get back into the routine of writing every day. Even though the heavy lifting has just begun, it can help to catch your breath, so today I’m turning the blog over to Tamara Kant-Waite, Past President Pro-tem of the Future Historians of America.

I believe she has an inspirational message for us all!

Dear Prospective Primary Sources,

You may think you’re a dull nobody today, but once you’ve become part of the unalterable past, you and your things will turn into objects of fascination for historians of the future.

For example, on the lower east side of Manhattan, there’s a wonderful place called the Tenement Museum where the lives of poor immigrants of the 19th and early 20th century are immortalized through conservation of the building where they lived and worked. You can visit the dingy, crowded apartments that generations struggled to get out of! The people who lived in these tenements would no doubt be flabbergasted to see well-fed tour groups shuffling down their narrow hallways.

And I’m guessing when Elizabeth Taylor was 17 years old, in love, starring in the movies and writing ten page long gushing mushy letters to her fiancée, she wasn’t thinking about being dead and having those letters published in national newspapers and sold to the highest bidder.

But there you go. That’s what time will do – it magnifies everything. Whatever purpose you had in mind for that mundane thing you just did, you can be sure history will see it as a fascinating window into another era.

So remember, anything you touch today could become an artifact! Be attentive when you interact with things because that cherished object of yours could have a glass case in its future. Tomorrow’s archivists have just one request – be sure to develop a story about your object and by all means write that story down.

And please, for the sake of historians and auctioneers of the future, use paper.

Yes, e-mails are easier and they supposedly last forever, but the history that impresses us most has to do with things we can pick up and hold, carry around, frame, encase and send on tour. Nobody would buy a ticket to see King Tut’s blogs.

That reminds me – if you ever get the chance to completely cover something in gold, do it!

And remember – these historic objects and artifacts will need to be categorized by curators. That’s honest work for Future Historians of America, a group of people who are mostly unemployed at the moment, and in many cases not even born yet. So do something good today for the economy of tomorrow – write a crazy love letter to someone who you think would be shallow enough to sell that honest expression of devotion to an auction house.

Make it something special, and the scholars of nexter-year will make sure it lives forever!

You’re a dead celebrity. What have you touched or produced that collectors will want to buy?

Public radio audiences lost an old friend this week when Arthur Hoehn passed on, his life cut short by lung cancer.

Much has been made of his status as MPR’s first full time, professional announcer, and I suppose that’s an important detail. To be the first one in the door just ahead of a vast and distinguished crowd is a meaningful bit of timing, but Art Hoehn would have stood out had been the tenth one hired, or the two hundred and tenth.

For many years he was the overnight host, happily working a shift that most dread. While everyone else was asleep, Arthur would be gliding around the radio station in his slippers and sometimes his bathrobe, turning off lights to save energy and flipping over the accordion-fold paper after it had already chunk-chunked through newsroom teletype once, feeding it through again so the blank side could be put to use.

For lazy young journalists it meant you had to check the date on your copy. Coming in first thing in the morning to throw together a newscast, there’s a 50/50 chance the item you’re about to read on the air is three days old, even though it’s still warm from the machine. Take a look at the other side and say thanks to Mr. Hoehn for conserving the resources.

Arthur was the perfect companion for insomniacs and others whose internal clocks put them at odds with the world. Though I’m sure he could do it, he wasn’t the sort of announcer who would dazzle you with a sharp, sparkling monolog. Mr. Hoehn took his time. And face it, if you’re listening to a classical station at 3 am, chances are you’re not there for the energetic pacing. You’re in need of companionship, and Arthur was ready to abide with you.

He was the disc jockey who would be content to stare out the window as you both watched snow fall through the lonely beam of a streetlight. Today’s listeners are deprived of the eerie sensation of tuning in to a station to hear the sound of someone … um … thinking. He gave us deliciously long pauses – a rarity in radio but surprisingly effective as an attention-getting device. “What’s going on?” you wonder. An intake of breath. Another long pause. “Is he going to speak?”

Probably. What’s your hurry?

For all the forms of media we have at our disposal today and the 24/7 streams of programming that flood out of our computers, there are few places where gentle soul is given an open microphone and license to allow his stream of consciousness to meander. For a significant number of years, Art created that sort of comfortable space for his listeners. As one of the announcers who followed him to open up the next “day part”, I was grateful for his easygoing presence. No matter the type of work you do, it’s harder to get started when you’ve just walked into a space that’s cold and dark.

With Arthur Hoehn on duty, there was always a warm spirit in the house.

Yesterday, while waiting for a bus, I struck up a conversation with a pleasant fellow who let me know in no uncertain terms that he had played a role in the ouster of Panamanian dictator Manuel Noriega back in 1989.

Of course this came up as we were talking about the weather.

I mentioned how it was finally going to hit 50 and he observed that Panama is hotter. Within moments he had the embassy surrounded and was playing heavy metal at peak volume in an attempt to force out el Presidente.

The bus came before the story was complete and I didn’t think it would be smart to follow him to his seat to get the rest. Even a former intelligence officer has to show some discretion. I had already forced him to reveal precious details through my clever climate-directed questioning, and there’s no way to safely discuss covert ops on the 825 into downtown Minneapolis. At least there’s no way to do it where you’ll FEEL safe.

After I spent more time than I wanted to thinking about Manuel Noriega, it occurred to me that we probably stand next to strangers each and every day who have done things that we would find utterly amazing and perhaps unbelievable, if we only knew.

After all, astronauts go to the grocery store to get milk out of the same case we do. Diplomats, crisis negotiators and brain surgeons stand in line behind us when we’re picking up fast food French fries. Billionaires go to movies. Great actors and brilliant inventors stop to hold the door for us and we hardly notice it. But it would be impractical and impolite to try to draw a biography out of every person you encounter.

I was waiting for my wife to pick me up at the airport a few weeks ago when Joe Mauer came out, loaded down with baggage, and stood alongside. He seemed like he wanted to strike up a conversation with me but then thought better of it, realizing that I’m probably tired of making small talk with strange admirers.

It’s true, I am. But for him I would have made an exception.

How close have you stood to greatness?

Spin Williams, noted visionary and dealmaker, is always trying to stay ahead of the curve when it comes to trends and unusual events. From his all-seeing perch as permanent chair of The Meeting That Never Ends, Spin has identified several stories that indicate … something.

Hi Trendwatchers!

The whole world is interconnected! Everything that happens has an effect somewhere else – the key to wealth, power and success is in knowing where to look for another shoe to drop! Everybody’s watching the big stories for just this sort of cause / effect relationship. Here at The Meeting That Never Ends, we’ve got our eye on a few of the smaller ones, looking for three things – moments of realization, the trend indicator, and the next story.

One word of advice, young man – Meatballs!

I love the IDEA of TV dinners – a quick meal in a foil tray, just a few squirts of food product with brown gravy and a little apple cobbler on the side and I’m good to go. And of course there are upscale and specialty versions of the same basic approach. But just this week, Nestle had to recall some of their “Lean Cuisine” frozen spaghetti and meatball dinners.

“Nestle is taking this action after a few consumers reported they had found red plastic in the meatball portion of the entrée,” said a company statement. The recall applies to dinners that were manufactured during a one hour period last October.

Moment of Realization – We eat October meatballs in March. TV dinners are Old Food!

Trend Indicator – in the future, look for “freshness dating” on frozen foods to allow picky microwave gourmands to assure themselves their meal was assembled in the same calendar year they’re planning to consume it.

The Next Story – We discover that spaghetti and meatball frozen dinners are made on the same assembly line as plastic furniture. Look for consumer complaints that the bin holding all the My Little Ponies seems to be held in place with dried spaghetti sauce and a strange meat-like substance.

Honest, it was like that when I took it out!

Publishers and libraries are arguing over e-book check-out policies.

Moment of Realization – Libraries loan out e-books! You don’t even have to go there to pick them up and the book automatically deletes itself from your e-reader when the due date arrives. This is awful news for people suffering from CLBDS (Compulsive Library Book Defacing Syndrome). How can you tear the cover off and scribble your crazy theories in the margins of a borrowed e-book?

Trend Indicator – Expect a new App (Librarian’s Nightmare?) that makes it possible to scrawl comments across the pages of borrowed e-books, with a special toolkit for drawing moustaches and antennae on the author’s dust jacket photo.

The Next Story – Borrowed e-books that delete themselves gradually, starting with the first chapter and continuing with 10 – 20 pages slipping into oblivion each day, a technique to “chase” tardy readers through the book.

A Jack LaLanne Terrier

And finally, a new study finds that dog owners get more exercise than people who don’t have dogs. It seems that a dog’s hunger for a daily walk, combined with That Look they give you, is enough to get some sedentary folks off the couch.

Moment of Realization – Fido is my Personal Trainer!

Trend Indicator – Look for a new Weight Loss Reality Show where the human contestants are harangued, berated, cajoled, prodded and humiliated by beautiful and incessantly demanding Golden Retrievers.

The Next Story – PETA files class action suit on behalf of fat dogs, complaining that they could be slim and healthy if only their slothful human companions would learn to take a hint. Whimpering and looking at the leash with Big Brown Eyes should be more than enough!

I’m not saying all these things will happen, but remember – if they do, you heard it here first! And if they don’t, what do you expect? Nobody can see into the future!

– Spin Williams

Ever been at the leading edge of a trend?

Dear Dr. Babooner,

Things have gone pretty well for me lately. After some unpleasantness at work, I’ve emerged the victor of a messy power struggle. People in the office seem to really, really like me. They’ve been saying I should be King, and while our management chart doesn’t include that specific position, I know they’re right. Still, I’ve been humble about it. It’s better, at times, not to appear overly ambitious. And it would just be a title anyway. I’ve already got the power.

Anyway, there’s this woman in the office … Sue Thayer.
She distributes the mail. I run across her every now and then, stuffing envelopes into the mailboxes by the coffee maker. Lately, whenever she sees me, she blurts out “Beware the Ides of March”. I usually make some joke and walk on, but she gives me this weird goggle-eye look.

Today I saw her and to lighten the mood I said, “The Ides of March have come!”

“Aye,” she said, “but not gone.”

That was freaky. Who says “Aye” anymore, except those geeks who want everybody to observe “Talk Like a Pirate Day”?

So I’ve started to worry. She has ready access to all the letter openers down in the mailroom, and those things can be pretty sharp. Dr. Babooner, should I report her to the HR department? Since I’m the most powerful person in the company, I’m certain they’d fire her.

But somehow, I still wouldn’t feel safe.

Dick Tator

I told Mr. Tator he’s right to be concerned. His position at the top of the hierarchy puts him in a delicate spot. If he complains about the woman and it leads to her dismissal, there might be court action since there’s no indication she’s neglecting her duties. Still, one cannot afford to ignore strange, potentially threatening behavior, or the earnest advice of a Sue Thayer.
I told him he should take a vacation. Immediately.
Egypt is hungry for tourists right now, and there’s always Italy.
But that’s just one opinion.
What do YOU think, Dr. Babooner?

This is the anniversary of Albert Einstein’s birth. The Nobel Prize winner entered space-time in 1879. Here’s a nice photo of him that proves there’s a place for smart people in radio.

He was a brilliant physicist and a famous introvert, saying:

“My passionate interest in social justice and social responsibility has always stood in curious contrast to a marked lack of desire for direct association with men and women. I am a horse for single harness, not cut out for tandem or team work. I have never belonged wholeheartedly to country or state, to my circle of friends, or even to my own family. These ties have always been accompanied by a vague aloofness, and the wish to withdraw into myself increases with the years.”

OK, apparently Einstein was not the life of the party, though he did enjoy music and jokes. So for the wild-haired Doctor, born so close to St. Patrick’s Day, a birthday limerick that may mis-interpret the theory of relativity:

Albert Einstein knew more than you know.
And he loved to go out to a show.
When he started to dance,
in his short smarty-pants,
He’d get younger the faster he’d go.

Actually he wouldn’t get younger, but he’d age more slowly as he approached the speed of light. I think. The notion of getting younger may come from an episode of Star Trek. That distinction, however, does not fit comfortably into the last line of this limerick, so I ignored it. Once again, accuracy is sacrificed to the demands of art!

Ever change the facts to improve a story?

The scale of the destruction in Japan is beyond imagining, though with each passing day the enormity of what happened there becomes more evident. The terrifying images of debris-laden mountains of water rushing towards coastal towns leave me speechless.

I try to picture what it would have been like to be there. What does one do to protect one’s family and one’s self from such a destructive force, even when given a few brief minutes to react?

The nuclear reactor damage has vast and sinister potential to amplify the tragedy.

I’ve got no silly poems or funny characters who are up to the task of addressing this, but felt it was important to make a space where gentle baboons could have a conversation about it.

Have you ever experienced an earthquake?

This took me by surprise – Daylight Savings Time starts tomorrow, March 13th. We turn our clocks ahead one hour, which will have the effect of making our lengthening daylight hours linger into the early evening.

Sunday night you’ll be able to go out and chip some ice off the sidewalk as a just-before- bedtime stress reliever in precisely the way God intended you to do it – by his own natural light.

Not everyone is pleased with DST. I’m simply the messenger, mind you, but I felt obliged to pass along this rant that arrived by cellphone from an undisclosed location in the north woods. It has been translated (as usual) from the original Ursus Textish.

‘Lo. Bart here. A little sleepy. Just comin’ around.

Late winter, early spring is the time for groggy bears. We stumble around, just like you after a long sleep. Need a little time to adjust.

And it doesn’t help that right about when we wake up, you people start messing around with the clocks! Don’t DO that! Last year I got so confused. Started to feel drowsy at the end of the day and the dang sun was still up! Couldn’t figure it out. Got so tired I just went to sleep in this guy’s backyard. Then while I was sleepin’ his wife found me, and before you know it he’s out there with his video camera!

I knew if I opened my eyes then, I was gonna have to act all surprised and ferocious, and frankly right after I get up my vicious bear routine comes across as a little lame. Annoy me in July and you’ll get a face full of bad breath and spittle, but in March I’m a little bit logy and dry, and a wimpy roar is worse for our overall image than just lying there. Gotta protect the bear “brand”, if you know what I mean.

So I had to pretend to be asleep while they tromped all around me, ‘blah, blah, blah look a the dumb bear’. ‘Guess he got fooled by an early thaw. Blah blah blah.’ No. No I did not ‘get fooled’ by an early warm spell. I’m hopeful, just like you. If that’s my crime, so be it.

And how many different gadgets do you have for taking a picture of something, anyway? Geez! Had to wait until it was dark so I could sneak off. Seems like it took forever for the sun to go down. Dang DST!

Seriously, leave the time alone. Let the day be what it’s gonna be, WHEN it’s gonna be it. You make everything more complicated, and I’ve got enough problems. Can’t get a good night’s sleep, for one.

Your pal,
Bart

He IS a touch cranky, at least until early May. I think it’s hunger, so it’s a good idea to keep your distance.

Are you a morning person?

A couple of weeks ago I mentioned slipping on the ice and wrecking my clutch operating leg. As a result I was unable to drive and started using public transportation, which turned out to be easy and fun, mostly.

Then there was the day I went to the wrong stop one block south of where I was supposed to be, missed my connection and had to wait an extra hour for the next bus to come along. That was my mistake – a consequence of thinking I knew the system when, in fact, I didn’t.

Creating a logical and memorable network is one of the challenges transit planners face. Things that are easy to use get used more often. It becomes complicated when there are jumble of options for riders to de-code – regular busses, express busses, light rail and BRT, (Bus Rapid Transit), in which busses mimic the feel of rail and operate on a completely separate or somewhat exclusive right-of-way.

LRT and BRT are being developed as a system within the system, offering “enhanced” service along “transitways” that are clearly defined. The Hiawatha Avenue light rail line is fairly obvious, and completely tearing up and rebuilding University Avenue over the next few years for the Central Corridor LRT will make the path of that line indelible.

The zoomy looking transit station plopped down in the middle of I-35W at 46th Street in South Minneapolis is a new landmark. When I first saw it, I knew I wanted to go someplace from there. The problem was – where?

Back when there were no roads to speak of, people got around on the rivers, literally paddling their own canoes. That’s why I was tickled to see this – a cartographer named Daniel Huffman who teaches at UW-Madison re-drew the Mississippi River basin as a transit map.

It’s a fun piece of artwork that gets me thinking about the river in a different way, but I’m guessing the Native Americans who used the rivers as transit corridors before the Europeans showed up didn’t need this kind of help to get around. The Mississippi, Ohio and Missouri were perfectly legible without “branding”.

But the new system could use marketing help, and the Metro Council is asking for some. Here’s an excerpt from a press release that invites naming suggestions for the developing LRT/BRT component of the Twin Cities public transit network:

“We’re anxious to see what creative ideas the public has for this exciting new element of our transit system,” said Arlene McCarthy, director of Metropolitan Transportation Services for the Council. We’ll be looking for name ideas that identify this service as a distinct part of our system, while incorporating aspects of the character of the Twin Cities region.”

Intriguing challenge, but how do you collapse all of that into a couple of memorable, useful, descriptive words? What is the character of the Twin Cities region? Yow.
If you have ideas, you can send them one of these ways:

By mail to the Regional Data Center at 390 Robert St. N., St. Paul, MN 55101
By e-mail data.center@metc.state.mn.us
Record your idea at 651-602-1500 (TTY 651-291-0904)
By Fax 651-602-1464
Or just use the online form.

Again, we see the tricky problem of navigating multiple modes of transport. In this case, which path to choose for conveying your brilliant ideas?

Are you good at naming things?