Says Rasmussen.
Chez Meadhouse, we rate St. Patrick's Day as in important birthday.
Happy birthday, John.
Showing posts with label St. Patrick's Day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label St. Patrick's Day. Show all posts
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Monday, March 14, 2011
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Monday, March 17, 2008
Speaking of celebrating....
It's St. Patrick's Day.
Which is always a double celebration, chez Althouse. A click on the new "St. Patrick's Day" tag will reveal why and will also take you to lots of photos and videos of St. Patrick's days past. The photo here is my favorite old one, from 2006.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
It's that wonderful time of the year again.
We're getting set up here in Brooklyn. That's Borough Hall, tonight (with Brooklyn Law School in the background on the left).
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Yesterday's Madison peace activities.
While I was up at the Capitol end of State Street yesterday, watching the St. Patrick's Day parade, Uncle Jimbo was monitoring the situation at the University end of the street, where I'd only seen the gestational phase of the anti-war activities. The parade I saw was really beautiful, with sunlight, the glistening white Capitol, a huge happy crowd, lots of kids running after candy thrown into the street, and our beloved Bucky Badger. It was so beautiful that when I started thinking about how beautiful it was, I had to struggle not to break down and cry -- and tears come to my eyes as I type this. I mean, look at this:
You're dissolving into maudlin tears now, aren't you? Or are you a staunch anti-war type, firming up your belief that Althouse is soft in the head and waiting to see just how badly she's going to slam the activists down at the other end of the street? I'm just going to leave it to Uncle Jimbo:
You're dissolving into maudlin tears now, aren't you? Or are you a staunch anti-war type, firming up your belief that Althouse is soft in the head and waiting to see just how badly she's going to slam the activists down at the other end of the street? I'm just going to leave it to Uncle Jimbo:
We start off with a quick chat with Lee Rayburn, deposed local Air America host, and victim of Clear Channel’s corporate savagery. This was cut short by the cowbelling of the orchestra. Next we have young Atticus intoning the words of his savior John Lennon. He actually does a creditable job and tries to stir some life into the scene; he is hamstrung by the pacing of the song and the anti-depressant medications of much of the crowd.More at the link, including the part with the puppets ("an evil W flushes our sons, daughters, civil liberties, and future down a giant toilet"). Here's his video (in which you will hear the f-word):
Driving to Green Bay.
In case you're wondering why is Althouse getting such a late start this morning, I was up until 3 a.m. after driving, beginning at 8 p.m., to Green Bay and back. It's all about that snow storm back east. A flight got cancelled, the next flight -- after a motel stay -- was late, a connection was missed, and the only way to avoid a second night in an airport motel was to fly into Green Bay instead of Madison. You'd still arrive at 10:30, but you'd arrive 130 miles away. I was just relaxing into a cozy night of TV -- mellowing out as two "I Shouldn't Be Alive" guys were getting horrendously lost in the Amazon -- and then, minutes later, I'm fueling up the car for the 5 hour round trip to Green Bay.
Speaking of green, it was St. Patrick's Day, not a good time to be driving after midnight, especially on that 20 mile stretch of Route 26 where it's just 2-lane blacktop, and there's a long line of cars and school buses streaming toward you. I guess they were coming back from a sporting event in Madison. There are always a few drivers who think they can improve their situation by passing one car in front of them, and I'd like to thank all those idiots who trusted me to slow down to avoid a head-on collision. When I finally got into Madison at 1:30 a.m., the streets were flowing with young revellers. As I drove across State Street, a young woman yelled at me, "Don't drive drunk!" -- which was for her a big joke, because she assumed everyone out in a car right now was drunk. But I was driving-all-the-way-to-Green-Bay-and-back sober.
So we made it back safe and wide awake. And those guys got out of the Amazon, too, because the show is called "I Shouldn't Be Alive." I don't know how they did it, and I'd like to know. But I'm glad they did, and I'm glad to be back in Madison, Wisconsin on March 18, 2007.
Speaking of green, it was St. Patrick's Day, not a good time to be driving after midnight, especially on that 20 mile stretch of Route 26 where it's just 2-lane blacktop, and there's a long line of cars and school buses streaming toward you. I guess they were coming back from a sporting event in Madison. There are always a few drivers who think they can improve their situation by passing one car in front of them, and I'd like to thank all those idiots who trusted me to slow down to avoid a head-on collision. When I finally got into Madison at 1:30 a.m., the streets were flowing with young revellers. As I drove across State Street, a young woman yelled at me, "Don't drive drunk!" -- which was for her a big joke, because she assumed everyone out in a car right now was drunk. But I was driving-all-the-way-to-Green-Bay-and-back sober.
So we made it back safe and wide awake. And those guys got out of the Amazon, too, because the show is called "I Shouldn't Be Alive." I don't know how they did it, and I'd like to know. But I'm glad they did, and I'm glad to be back in Madison, Wisconsin on March 18, 2007.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Downtown Madison, on St. Patrick's Day.
So I go downtown today, and of course, it's St. Patrick's Day, but I'm just looking for a little walk and a stop someplace where I can read the newspaper and drink some coffee. Still, I had my camera, and there were things to see.
Down at the campus end of State Street, it's looking like this:
Cooking up a peace march, apparently.
But up at the Capitol end of the street, there's a different crowd:
With a different attitude:
The sun is shining. The parade is about to begin. First, the pipers:
Then, the 132nd Army Band Wisconsin National Guard:
Down at the campus end of State Street, it's looking like this:
Cooking up a peace march, apparently.
But up at the Capitol end of the street, there's a different crowd:
With a different attitude:
The sun is shining. The parade is about to begin. First, the pipers:
Then, the 132nd Army Band Wisconsin National Guard:
Friday, March 17, 2006
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Before the parade.
I didn't know there was a Madison St. Patrick's Day parade. I guess when I move downtown and live on the Capitol Square, I'll know more about such things. Obviously, it's not St. Patrick's Day yet, but apparently, they want a weekend day. Anyway, I was just downtown to take a walk and to sit in a café for a little while, and I happened to see some pre-parade things.
A kid, already hoisted onto parental shoulders, with the appropriate balloon headgear:
Note the guys with placards bearing religious messages. "The fool hath said in his heart 'There is no God.'" That ought to unnerve you. Think there's no God? You've just pegged yourself a fool! And if you buy that logic, you are a fool. One of the guys was playing an accordian, and they were all singing. What were they singing? I don't know. I was wearing "earbuds" and listening to a podcast.
The Madison Area Technical College Mascot was stirring up some excitement:
Come on, everybody. It's about green and balloons and hats:
A kid, already hoisted onto parental shoulders, with the appropriate balloon headgear:
Note the guys with placards bearing religious messages. "The fool hath said in his heart 'There is no God.'" That ought to unnerve you. Think there's no God? You've just pegged yourself a fool! And if you buy that logic, you are a fool. One of the guys was playing an accordian, and they were all singing. What were they singing? I don't know. I was wearing "earbuds" and listening to a podcast.
The Madison Area Technical College Mascot was stirring up some excitement:
Come on, everybody. It's about green and balloons and hats:
Thursday, December 8, 2005
When John Lennon died.
The doctor who held John Lennon's heart in his hands and tried to pump it back to life remembers that night, 25 years ago:
I usually listen to a little news on the radio before getting out of bed. I guess I've done that for a long, long time, because I can remember turning on the radio in 1968 and hearing that Bobby Kennedy had been shot to death.
On the day I heard that John had died, I was a law student at NYU. I remember dragging myself in to the law review office and expecting everyone there to be crying and talking about it, but no one was saying anything at all. I never felt so alienated from my fellow law students as I did on that day. I was insecure enough to feel that I was being childish to be so caught up in the story of the death of a celebrity long past his prime. I didn't even take the train uptown to go stand in the crowd that I knew had gathered outside the Dakota. What did I do? I can't remember. I probably buried myself in work on a law review article.
Back in 1968, all my friends were crying and talking about Bobby's death. When Bobby's coffin was on public view in St. Patrick's Cathedral, we got in my car and drove in to New York City (from Wayne, New Jersey) and waited in the long line to file past. I remember the feeling of being around the other mourners and how extremely kind I thought it was when office workers brought us cups of water from inside their building. In the end, we teenagers started worrying that our parents would get upset, wondering where we were, and we left the line we'd waited in for hours.
How I regret not going uptown to be among the people who openly mourned John Lennon! How foolish I was to think I was foolish to care and to put my effort into blending in with the law review editors who, I imagined, were behaving in a way I needed to learn!
I was especially sensitive about fitting in, because I was six months pregnant with my first child, and I worried that this experience was tearing me away from the career I had spent the last two and a half years studying to begin. I was 29 years old, older than most of the other law students. I doubted any of them had studied fine arts, my undergraduate major. With my age, my art school background, and my pregnancy, I was imposter, constantly threatened with exposure. I couldn't walk out on these people and go be with the mourners. I only watched the mourners on television and felt doubly sad.
On St. Patrick's Day, my baby was born. I named him John.
"There was just nothing left to pump," Dr. [Stephan G.] Lynn recalled in an interview. "There was so much damage to the major blood vessels leading from the heart" that his blood just leaked out....I remember hearing the news on the radio the next morning. I heard the news today, oh boy...
"The bullets were amazingly well-placed," he said. "All the major blood vessels leaving the heart were a mush, and there was no way to fix it."
I usually listen to a little news on the radio before getting out of bed. I guess I've done that for a long, long time, because I can remember turning on the radio in 1968 and hearing that Bobby Kennedy had been shot to death.
On the day I heard that John had died, I was a law student at NYU. I remember dragging myself in to the law review office and expecting everyone there to be crying and talking about it, but no one was saying anything at all. I never felt so alienated from my fellow law students as I did on that day. I was insecure enough to feel that I was being childish to be so caught up in the story of the death of a celebrity long past his prime. I didn't even take the train uptown to go stand in the crowd that I knew had gathered outside the Dakota. What did I do? I can't remember. I probably buried myself in work on a law review article.
Back in 1968, all my friends were crying and talking about Bobby's death. When Bobby's coffin was on public view in St. Patrick's Cathedral, we got in my car and drove in to New York City (from Wayne, New Jersey) and waited in the long line to file past. I remember the feeling of being around the other mourners and how extremely kind I thought it was when office workers brought us cups of water from inside their building. In the end, we teenagers started worrying that our parents would get upset, wondering where we were, and we left the line we'd waited in for hours.
How I regret not going uptown to be among the people who openly mourned John Lennon! How foolish I was to think I was foolish to care and to put my effort into blending in with the law review editors who, I imagined, were behaving in a way I needed to learn!
I was especially sensitive about fitting in, because I was six months pregnant with my first child, and I worried that this experience was tearing me away from the career I had spent the last two and a half years studying to begin. I was 29 years old, older than most of the other law students. I doubted any of them had studied fine arts, my undergraduate major. With my age, my art school background, and my pregnancy, I was imposter, constantly threatened with exposure. I couldn't walk out on these people and go be with the mourners. I only watched the mourners on television and felt doubly sad.
On St. Patrick's Day, my baby was born. I named him John.
Thursday, March 17, 2005
Computers in the law school classroom.
A while back I wrote about the perceived problem of students' using computers in class, especially when there's internet access. Today, there was a "Coffee and Doughnuts" session at the Law School to bat the topic around. I have a 9:30 class, so I skipped the session, but I did drop by the Faculty Library for a moment to get some coffee and had a chance to listen to a couple minutes of one student's statement. The student seemed to be saying something I expected a lot of students would say: it's the faculty's job to make the classes so fascinating that the students are not tempted to do things like check websites and email. If I had attended the session, I would have said something you would expect a faculty member to say: it's the student's responsibility to pay attention and not to distract other students. I assume this faculty viewpoint was expressed at the session, and I also assume that there were some pro-regulation types who advocated a new written policy outlining exactly what students can and can't do with their computers and some hardcore turn-off-the-damned-internet types.
But I wasn't there. If I had been there, I would have simulblogged, that is, if the damned internet was turned on in the Faculty Library.
If you were there, feel free to email me and give me some info about what was said (or send me a link if you blogged about it).
Miscellaneous fact: the doughnuts had green icing for St. Patrick's Day.
UPDATE: Sorry for the double posting before. Blogger has been horrible these last couple of days. Your post doesn't seem to go through, so you try again, and then both go through. Grrrrr.
ANOTHER UPDATE: Here's one description of the session.
But I wasn't there. If I had been there, I would have simulblogged, that is, if the damned internet was turned on in the Faculty Library.
If you were there, feel free to email me and give me some info about what was said (or send me a link if you blogged about it).
Miscellaneous fact: the doughnuts had green icing for St. Patrick's Day.
UPDATE: Sorry for the double posting before. Blogger has been horrible these last couple of days. Your post doesn't seem to go through, so you try again, and then both go through. Grrrrr.
ANOTHER UPDATE: Here's one description of the session.
Monday, March 22, 2004
Madison, weekend. I don't understand sports enough to explain the presence of greenness in redville this weekend. I don't think it was leftover St. Patrick's day, but something about basketball ... or hula.
It got cold again, all blustery, but there was this lovely sign of spring, the first food cart on Library Mall.
And State Street Brats was just waiting for the sports fans to arrive and engage in revelry presided over by those kindred spirits, Bucky Badger and Miss Liberty.
It got cold again, all blustery, but there was this lovely sign of spring, the first food cart on Library Mall.
And State Street Brats was just waiting for the sports fans to arrive and engage in revelry presided over by those kindred spirits, Bucky Badger and Miss Liberty.
Wednesday, March 17, 2004
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