One. I go to the library more than anyone I know. I go alone, I go with the kids, I go with just one kid while the other is home napping with Dad, I pop in for a few minutes to browse, or I go with a thermos of tea and settle in with the magazines for awhile. I have always loved libraries. A feeling of warmth and peace settles over me when I walk through those doors.
Two. In a random group of a hundred people, those I’d identify most strongly with would probably be East Indian or Asian.
Three. I am related to the actor who co-starred in the 70s live-action show “Isis,” which according to a majority of respondents, “never” jumped the shark. Isis was a great show. It was (loosely) about a brother-sister superhero team who activitated their powers by locking together special rings they wore on their hands and wrists. They’d say, “Isis!”
Scene from Isis (remember being warned about the dangers of “joyriding”?) But where is Brian Cutler?:
I think it’s funny that while the majority of responders believe Isis “never jumped,” those who do think the reason was “inconsistent powers.”
Four. I have an extra odd formation of bone in my left foot. On my surface anatomy it looks like something broke off and is just floating around in there. It’s prone to injury, unfortunately. I’ve sprained that ankle hard at least four times. The most recent time, I actually dragged myself into the doctor and learned it’s called an accessory navicular, and combined with my cavus foot, it’s a recipe for disaster. Two years ago at Memorial Day I sprained it jumping into a sandpile at the park while holding Bits. Eva now tells me I need to bring a book to the park like all the other moms.
Five. I hate acronyms but I love nicknames and slang. One of the most fun parts of being a Public Defender was hearing the latest jailhouse slang. Did you know a “cellie” is someone you share a cell with, while a “crimey” or “codey” (Co-D) is your co-defendant, charged with you on the same criminal complaint? The “SHU” (pronounced “shoe” so an acceptable acronym as it crosses over into slang territory) is Segregated Housing Unit: isolation. A “bullet” is a year in county jail and “the joint,” “state,” and “state time” are all terms for state prison. The “pen” is federal prison. A “dump truck” is a public defender who makes all his clients plead guilty, and if you don’t want to plead guilty, you want to “take it to the box,” i.e. go to trial.
What does it say about me that I love the defendants’ slang but hate that of their guards? The bailiffs and deputies who run the jails and courts call the in-custody defendants “the bodies” (e.g. “We can’t start yet because I’m still missing three bodies”) and when they want the bodies to move, they might say, “Make a hole!” (military-speak for “Comin’ through!”)
Six. I love old-time television actors and writers. The most excited I’ve been to see a celebrity was when I was having lunch with an ex-boyfriend’s mother (long story, sweet woman) and we saw Morry Amsterdam. He was ninety (at least) and in a wheelchair with a plaid blanket folded over his knees. A black nurse-attendant was spooning Hamburger Hamlet’s famous French onion soup into his mouth. My lunch companion knew him (!!!) but didn’t let me say hello because she thought he’d be too embarrassed to be in such an undignified position that he could not even eat his own soup. Later I thought, what a strange, horrible thing to order for someone who can’t feed himself, with the long, stringy pieces of melty cheese. But only a few weeks later I read that he died and maybe one of his last cravings was for a bowl of that soup.