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Making Athens, Georgia Proud

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I’m only recently aware of Allison Weiss and her music, but I’m wowed by her sound, her aesthetic and her approach to making music and connecting with her fans.

I’d actually heard of her before – on Twitter – through a semi-acquaintance brokered by an ex-professor. Quite random, I know.

Her main appeal at the moment is for folks – you or me – to donate to the creation of an EP. In exchange for our cash, she’ll give us (assuming we participate) access to cool exclusives and, for a price, inclusion in the liner notes and beyond (depending on the amount).

Here’s her video explaining the whole deal with Kickstarter:

This is an ingenious way for an obviously talented, albeit cash-strapped college student to raise the funds necessary to pursue her dreams. I know I’ve got a few dollars burning a hole in my pocket to contribute to the cause. For another perspective on an artist doing her own thing and connecting with her fans, check out David Meerman Scott’s interview with Amanda Palmer of Dresden Dolls.

I won’t be able to catch her Quest For Glory tour in Atlanta or Athens due to a vacation, but I may try to make the “internet” date. 😉

All of this is made that much better for me because of the Athens, GA connections (see above: professor, semi-acquaintance & Allison herself) involved.

My Alma Mater.
My Other Mother.
My home away from home.

And if you need further proof of Allison’s bonafides, here she is doing a cover of Elliott Smith’s Between The Bars:

Additional props to Athens for getting top-billing on Boston.com’s Big Picture blog. Lightning downtown never looked so eerily cool.

Have I mentioned that Football is only 38 days away? Go Dawgs! [Via Georgia Sports Blog]

Hope you’re having a wild, wacky Wednesday, just like me.

Rubbing Elbows with Hobnobbers

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After hearing Rufus Wainwright’s cover of Puttin’ On The Ritz on last week’s So You Think You Can Dance (a Summer guilty pleasure and a better-produced dancing reality competition than Dancing With The Stars), I tweeted about the song this morning.

Here’s a live snippet of Rufus’ interpretation of the tune in case you can’t get to the blip.fm version:

For those of us who grew up in the eighties, we probably all remember the synth-influenced version by Taco. Or maybe you recall Gene Wilder & Peter Boyle in Young Frankenstein. Fewer still would have caught Fred Astaire’s performance in Blue Skies.

No matter where you’ve seen it or heard it (or tried to sing yourself, all misheard lyrics and bad syncopation [it can’t just be me]), you’ll never forget it.

In my most recent listening, the phrases “rubbing elbows” and “hobnobbing” popped into my head and couldn’t be dislodged.

Which is all a very long intro to the following blog post.

To “rub elbows with” seems to carry the kind of well-to-do, upper-crust society, urbane connotation I was envisioning:

There’s nothing like rubbing elbows with the rich and famous, or At the reception diplomats were rubbing shoulders with heads of state. Both of these terms allude to being in close contact with someone. [Mid-1800s]

Another source thinks the idiom is a little less haughty/aristocratic:

Fig. to associate with someone; to work closely with someone. (No physical contact is involved.)

So we’ve got some conflicting reports there, but it seems like the use I’m thinking of did in fact originate from the kind of close quarters party-style mingling one might do at a fancy soiree. It’s possible that there are now less hoity-toity uses for the phrase, but I think most folks (like me) hear a certain air and arrogance to the phrase.

I could be wrong; let me know.

Which brings us to hobnob (and/or hobknob, which I assumes was the correct spelling).

The always enlightening Urban Dictionary cuts right to the chase:

Hob-knobbing is how socialites spend their days.

Please note the spelling as well.

Other sources:

Etymology: from the obsolete phrase drink hobnob to drink alternately to one another
Date: 1813

1 archaic : to drink sociably
2: to associate familiarly

And:

–verb (used without object)
1. to associate on very friendly terms (usually fol. by with): She often hobnobs with royalty.
2. Archaic. to drink together.
–noun
3. a friendly, informal chat.
Origin:
1595–1605; from the phrase hab or nab lit., have or have not, OE habban to have + nabban not to have (ne not + habban to have)

Hobnobbing, it seems use to have something to do with drinking/toasting and may “have” to do with “haves” and “have nots”.

Although it sounds more posh, hobnobbing might have started out as the less “loaded” phrase, but now carries more of the connotation that both words certainly share.

In the end, I think the song – whatever form or remake or cover – it takes is far better than my wordy middling.

I still think those folks on Park Avenue who were Puttin’ on the Ritz were likely both hobnobbing and rubbing elbows, but I’ll let you be the judge.

Until next time.

Newtons Aren’t Fruit and Cake (anymore)

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While packing Raelyn’s lunch last night (she’s at YMCA day camp most of the Summer) I noticed a not-so-subtle branding change on the Fig Newtons packaging. Below is an artistic photo of the new wording, which reads: “Fruity Chewy Cookies”

Fig Newtons by turnthecity
Fig Newtons by turnthecity

Above: Fig Newtons by turnthecity

If you did any of your TV viewing during the 90’s, you’ll likely remember that Fig Newtons were being hocked thusly:

“A cookie is just a cookie, but a Newton is fruit and cake.”

Here’s an ad to refresh your memory. 4:48 mark:

Now I’m no nutritional anthropologist (thank you, Deb Duchon, Alton Brown and Good Eats) but I don’t think fig jam counts as fruit, nor that a baked crust counts as cake. More like pie.

Other, more learned scholars have made the point that Newtons are likely “squares” or “bars”, but I’ll leave that to you, gentle reader, to decide.

Whether or not the Newton is, in fact, “fruit and cake” or some kind of cookie or something else entirely shouldn’t actually matter. What matters is how quickly Nabisco has reversed course in their marketing and promotion.

Of course, I seem to be a couple of years late to both the new positioning AND mockery of the same. Still, I feel it’s my duty to point out the idiocy of changing course so dramatically.

But what do I know, right? Fig Newtons are still the only cookie/fruit-cake combo/bar/square on the market that either called Newton OR made of Fig. Their uniqueness of form, function and name seems to trump whatever marketing their laboring under currently.

I can’t help but draw the comparison to another food-stuff marketing catchphrase of the same era: Polaner All Fruit.

For those of you who don’t recall, much was made of the fact that as, you shouldn’t call Polaner All Fruit “Jelly” since it was better than all of that. It was, after all, “spreadable fruit” and not at all like lowly, common jelly.

Here’s the money shot of the spot:

So imagine if Polaner all of sudden relaunched calling themselves “Jelly” despite keeping the name All Fruit; wouldn’t make much sense, would it?

Granted, Newton is a nebulous descriptor not at all as recognizable or finite as “jelly” “fruit” or, more directly, “cookie” or “cake”‘. Still, the whole thing seems like a bait and switch to my younger, sweet-toothed mind.

A cookie, for all its benefits and joys, is just a cookie. A Newton – unique in all the snacking world – is fruit and cake.

Or at least it used to be.

Bonus linkage: Fruit and Cake (Fig Newton Song)

And, in the end, the Fig Newton you take, will always be fruit and cake (with apologies to The Beatles).

Weekly Recap

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In an effort to put something family-focused on the blog with some degree of regularity, I’m going to start a new weekly feature here, a “weekly recap” post.

I’ll collect and connect some of the random Twitter messages and pictures along with some of the shorter, funnier anecdotes from the kiddies and try to develop a cohesive narrative.

Failing that I’ll just blockquote something from a song, add a wistful *sigh* and end with an iPhone picture of my backyard.

Cool?

Here goes:

The big developments of the week were our trips (plural) to the dentist. I had to get some cavities (plural. again.) filled and Raelyn had her 6-month check-up.

Here’s the photographic evidence (non-gory) of my experience:

"The goggles do nothing!"
The goggles do nothing!
A god-damned sexual Tyrannosaurus
A god-damned sexual Tyrannosaurus

Jesse Ventura approves, by the way.

Raelyn’s visit featured a distinct lack of crying. No tears or complaints about x-rays, cleaning or fluoride. We’ve either turned a corner, dodged a bullet or turned a corner to dodge a bullet.

She did find out that two of her teeth were loose (how could she not know?) and saw the x-ray evidence of new teeth yearning to breath free. We had to make four separate phone calls to let grandparents and uncles share her surprise.

Here she is spreading the joy:

Raelyn on the phone

Then there’s Owen. This week, on the ride home from work, we did our best Bugs & Daffy impression while reading a book.

Owen: It’s a cow!
Me: It’s a sheep!
Owen: It’s a cow!
Me: It’s a sheep!
Owen: It’s a cow!
Me: It’s a cow!
Owen: It’s a sheep!

And of course the love of my life, Jenn, is doing well. She’s continually reminding me of all the reasons why I married her: her wit, her charm, her humor & love in the face of adversity. Oh, and her willingness to lounge on our back porch after work and drink a beer while the kids play.

Loving everyone (even you) this Friday. See you next week!

Lost plus Muppet Babies equals Crazy Delicious

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These are the kind of videos that seem tailor-made for this exact blog.  They’re so thematically-targeted and ridiculous, I couldn’t have done a better job if I’d done them myself.

See for yourself:

LOST Babies – Let The Fear In:

LOST Babies – He’s Yellow, Man:

The videos are the work of David Goodberg.

[Via Blog@Newsarama who got them from EW’s Popwatch]