I get e-books from the New York Public Library. If the book is not immediately available, it is reserved and I get a message indicating, not very accurately, what the wait will be. Right now I have a reservation for A Man of Iron: The Turbulent Life and Improbable Presidency of Grover Cleveland by Troy Senit. The library notice tells me that the biography will be “available for checkout in less that 23 days.” From my grade school grammar, I was taught that less is wrong here and should be replaced with fewer. But this comes from the New York Public Library. Surely they know better than I (not me.) Do I not remember my grammar, or has it changed? I was struck by this question when I heard an NFL ad that was a warning about betting. It said that about 25% of pro football games are decided “by three points or fewer.”
A wise observer said, “I feel that progress is being made when people agree with my ideas.”
I just finished reading The Red House Mystery. It was written by A.A. Milne. Yes, that A.A. Milne. (Is there another?) And yes, it is a mystery. Who knew?
I was in the hardware store buying a mousetrap because even though the neighborhood has become more upscale, every so often the little furry creatures get in the house. As the store clerk put my purchase in a bag, he told me to bait the trap with peanut butter. I replied that sometimes I use chocolate peanut butter. He exclaimed, “No, no, no! For Fort Greene mice you now have to use organic peanut butter.”
Another sage observation: “We like to have people come right out and say what they think, when they agree with us.”
You attend a classical concert. You know that an acquaintance has also gone to that performance, but you don’t see each other exiting. It is always interesting to see the reaction of that person when you meet again by saying, “What? You stayed for the Debussy after that Mahler?”
What is Beethoven doing now? Decomposing.
Although the spouse and I had partaken of a few finger foods at the reception after the dance performance, we were still hungry. We walked into an Italian restaurant around the corner from the Mark Morris Dance Center, but it was too noisy for our liking. We passed a Mexican place and entered a Haitian restaurant—I think its name is the same as its address, 33 Lafayette—and were quickly seated by a gracious host. We later learned that he was a co-owner. I thought that a couple of appetizers would suffice and ordered coconut shrimp, which were divine, and smoked herring in plantain cups. I associate herring with northern climes, and the menu said that the fish were from Canada. I told the host that I was surprised to find a Haitian restaurant offering herring. He replied that Haitians regularly eat herring and have it even with spaghetti and pizza. He said it might have entered Haiti’s cuisine when Haiti opened its doors to European Jews before World War II. Who knew? But I later learned that you can find many Haitian herring recipes online. I don’t plan to try them.
