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In a shift, French banks are embracing a practice popular in the U.S. What is raising eyebrows is that it involves the creation of financial instruments that led to huge losses not so long ago.
The practice is the packaging of loans into securities to be sold to investors—also known as securitization. It is unusual in French banking.
French banks traditionally keep most of the loans they make on their balance sheets, unlike their U.S. counterparts, which have long put them into securities and sold them to investors. During the financial crisis, scores of those securities went sour as the housing market crashed, leaving investors and banks nursing huge losses.
But French banking executives say stringent new rules on capital and liquidity, passed in the wake of the 2007-2008 meltdown, are crimping profits. That, in turn, has prompted them to ramp up other means of increasing revenue, they say.Regular readers know that in the absence of observable event based reporting buyers of these structured finance securities are not investing, but rather 'blindly betting'.
Under observable event based reporting, all activities like payments or delinquencies involving the underlying collateral are disclose before the beginning of the next business day. It is only with this reporting that market participants have current information and investors know what they own.
BNP Paribas SA, France's largest publicly traded bank, recently issued, packaged and sold billions of euros in real estate, aircraft financing and corporate loans. Other recent deals include Société Générale SA, Crédit Agricole SA and Natixis SA selling securitized loans to French insurer AXA SAand Belgian-Dutch insurer Ageas NV.
French mortgage lender Crédit Foncier said in October it plans to start issuing residential mortgage-backed securities, reviving a market that has been dormant in France since the financial crisis.The lender wants to securitize around €1 billion ($1.3 billion) this year and is targeting issuance of around €2 billion of RMBS per year starting in 2016.
"If you can't adapt, you won't survive," says Fabrice Susini, global head of securitization at BNP Paribas.....The adaptation being to provide observable event based reporting. This information is easily made available because this is how the information systems used by the entities that originate, bill and collect the underlying assets track the underlying collateral.
New regulations have forced banks to increase their reserves to cushion against unexpected shocks. In addition, new rules intended to ensure that European banks aren't caught out if short-term funding from financial markets dries up mean lenders can no longer rely on this borrowing to fund long-term loans. Deposits, another key source of funding, aren't sufficient to cover loan demand.
"The new regulatory constraints are significant," says Xavier Fessart, head of counterparty risk at Crédit Agricole's investment bank. "To continue to lend to our customers we had to find new financing solutions."Done right, securitization is an attractive way of financing loans.
Securitization has two attractions for the banks. It moves assets off their balance sheets, reducing the amount of capital and liquid assets they have to set aside against loans. At the same time, it enables them to earn commissions for creating and selling the securities. The question for banks is whether the commissions will be enough to offset the loss of interest revenue on loans they once held on their books.
"We need to adapt our business model in order to be able to distribute the loans that we issue," said Didier Valet, head of Société Générale's corporate and investment bank, in an interview earlier this year. "Loans will become a raw material to feed this new business model."The originate to distribute business model is a very attractive model for banks. The key to making the model work for the financial system is observable event based reporting.
The lenders say they won't make the same mistakes many of their US peers did before the crisis. Back then, some of the packaged loans were the product of lax lending standards and the banks issuing the loans didn't necessarily end up holding the bonds.
Big French lenders haven't been shy about pointing the finger across the Atlantic. "I am not saying that one model is better than the other," said Frédéric Oudéa, Société Générale's SA chief executive, comparing U.S. and French banking practices at a conference in Paris in March. "But no major bank in Europe went under during the financial crisis."
Analysts say a move into securitization could fuel financial instability instead of taming it.
"If banks don't carry the risk of the loans they issue, there's always a risk they may lower lending standards," says Kepler Capital Markets analyst Benoît Pétrarque.Observable event based reporting is the antidote to the risk that banks will lower their lending standards. Under observable event based reporting, market participants have the information they need to independently assess the risk of the underlying assets.
Market participants can use this risk assessment to make sure they are always being adequately compensated for the risk they take on.
While new rules were drawn up to rein in lax lending practices in the U.S., banking and insurance regulators in Europe haven't really addressed this risk, he said.
The French bank and insurance regulator "is very closely watching" the new deals, said a spokeswoman for the Autorité de Controle Prudentiel, an agency affiliated with the Banque de France. "We can make sure that insurance companies buying these packaged loans from banks understand the risks that these loans carry."Regular readers now that the US National Association of Insurance Commissioners (NAIC) white paper on the Future of Mortgage Finance set the global standard for disclosure by structured finance securities ranging from covered bonds to securitizations. This standard relates the quality of disclosure to the amount of capital needed to support a position.
Specifically, deals that provide observable event based reporting are rewarded with low capital requirements. Everything else is seen as a 'blind bet' and as a result must carry significantly more capital.
AXA, for example, said it won't invest in a securitized loan portfolio unless the bank that has issued it retains 20%-30% on its books. "We do not want to finance the loans that banks won't finance themselves," said Odette Cesari, AXA's chief investment officer.The reason AXA needs such a big retained interest by the seller is that these deals do not provide observable event based reporting. As a result, AXA needs the lender to be absorbing a substantial portion of the credit risk.
But some banks aren't committed to doing that. Société Générale, for one, won't "systematically" hold a part of the loans it issues, said Vincent Tricon, head of Mid Caps Investment Banking at the bank.
Mr. Tricon was responsible for arranging for AXA to buy its securitized debt. The bank plans to rely largely on securitization to fund lending to midcap companies.One of the reasons that the European insurance and bank regulators will adopt the NAIC's global standard is that it assures the regulators that the investors know what they are buying.


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I love it.....ReplyDelete
Thanks, Cynthia!ReplyDelete
Interesting for sure! I have tons of old crayons! Now are you adding anything else to this piece, Marge, or is it the background that you've left and the melted crayons that's the message?ReplyDelete
How cool is that! Now where did I store the crayons...ReplyDelete

subset: commoncrawl


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PHILADELPHIA — It was a tough month for Jason Kidd without Raymond Felton. Last night, it was a tough night with Felton.
Felton wasn't sharp in his return from a monthlong absence because of a broken right pinkie. He finished 2-for-8 for eight points with three assists and two turnovers and was toasted on defense by the Sixers' Jrue Holiday in the Knicks' 97-80 loss.
"I missed shots I normally make,'' Felton said. "I was still a little rusty. My timing is not back yet.''
Kidd decided to play after suffering back spasms Thursday in Boston, and it was a mistake. He played just 14:57, went scoreless in an 0-for-3 night and, yes, was toasted by Jrue Holiday, who scored a game-high 35 points. Kidd spent much of the fourth quarter in the locker room, getting treatment for his back.
"When I saw the game was out of reach, there was no sense trying to make something out of nothing,'' coach Mike Woodson said. "So I told him to get treatment and get ready for [tonight's game against the Hawks].''
Kidd started with Felton and Iman Shumpert in a three-guard alignment that didn't work.
"Raymond was a little rusty,'' Woodson said. 'He'll get back. … We can't base anything on one game.''
Felton wanted to play in the late stages, but he got hacked on the hand with 3:00 left and appeared shaken up. He went to the free-throw line, but Woodson made a motion to insert Pablo Prigioni.
"It hurt a little, but [it] went away fast,'' Felton said. "That was a good sign."
The burden of being the full-time starting point guard led him to more minutes and less efficiency for Kidd, who admitted before the game the last month was taxing.
"I haven't guarded the ball and ran the point for some time,'' Kidd said at the morning shootaround. "[In Dallas], I had J.J. [Barea] or Jason Terry. I initiated the offense, but I didn't have to guard the ball. This was a throwback for me back to Jersey when I did both.''
Kidd is averaging 1.9 steals and just 1.33 turnovers.
* Marcus Camby probably will not return in the initial 2-to-4 week timetable. Camby, who had a walking boot removed Thursday, said he believes he still is 2-3 weeks away from running on the court. He re-aggravated plantar fasciitis two weeks ago in Indiana.
* Rookie Chris Copeland, who was benched the past couple of games after Woodson questioned his practice habits, was inserted in the second half with the game out of hand and played 16:38.
* Sixers coach Doug Collins left the bench to be examined in the third quarter and didn't return. The diagnosis was a blocked nasal passage and sinus infection.


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Monday, March 08, 2010
One man's trash...
Well, technically we didn't find it in the trash. We were out at the thrift stores scouting for bunk beds when we stumbled upon this little beauty. How could we pass it up?
Isn't it cool?!?
Wait, you don't know what it is yet, do you? Oh, sorry. Let me take it apart for a better picture. Look here:
Now, isn't it cool?!? We were pretty excited when we spotted it-- and for cheap too. I don't know how old it is, but it's obvious that it has seen a lot of play. The thing was caked with grime before we scrubbed it. And worse yet, it was full of old corn. And bug casings. Lots and lots of bug casings-- even the boxes! Luckily we're not afraid of bug casings.
After attacking it with the vacuum and soap, Sunburst and I decided to do a little refurbishing. Those scribbled names and prices had to go.
I know you're looking at that and wondering, green? I was wondering that myself halfway into it, but it worked out. The final result was very pleasing-- a treasure indeed!
The girls spent the afternoon happily setting up shop. Each and every drawer is filled with something to sell. And the customers keep on coming... luckily, I made up a pile of shopping bags just in time for the first sale.
I'm pretty sure that box of chicken bouillon she's buying is expired, but the bag is so cute she probably won't notice. I'll be back tomorrow with a pattern for the shopping bags. No dollhouse store is complete without them, you know. :-)
4 comments:
How neat, I think the green looks nice.ReplyDelete
I have been catching up on your blog a bit, glad you are all doing well.
My oldest daughter (9) has been getting those cobble street books from the library. Suddenly she is spending hours a day reading to herself! Hard to find the good books though...
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Maria Bruno, once one of Palm Beach County`s most influential political insiders, was convicted Thursday of witness-tampering.
Bruno, 52, could receive up to a year in jail and a $500 fine for trying to influence a witness whose testimony could connect her son to a deadly arson fire at Bruno`s West Palm Beach beauty shop. However, prosecutor Kirk Volker said he probably would not urge that Bruno spend time behind bars when she is sentenced Nov. 21.
``I don`t think I`m going to be recommending any jail time in this case. Perhaps a period of probation,`` Volker said.
Bruno, who chatted amiably with reporters during the jury`s two-hour deliberation, left the West Palm Beach courtroom tight-lipped and near tears. She and her attorneys declined to comment on the verdict.
Hours earlier, Bruno took the witness stand to deny she ever pleaded with Pam Young, her son`s ex-fiance, to keep silent about events surrounding the May 12, 1984, fire at Bruno`s A Lot of Class beauty salon. She said she was close to her son, Ralph Ramer, but did not know how far she would go to protect him.
The body of Ramer`s boyhood friend, Dean Densberger, was found amid the ashes of the shop. Ramer, accused of helping Densberger plan the fire, will stand trial next month on arson and second-degree murder charges. A former Bruno co- worker, Herbert Pontz, also faces an arson charge. All the people involved in the cases are from the West Palm Beach area.
Bruno was an influential fund-raiser in the 1970s.


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I came across this over at Semtex's blog and thought it was a great project by the BBC (which could have gone one of two ways but seems to have been handled well) -
"the Jail Tales project, an ambitious mix of multiplatform content fronted by Ashley Walters, an actor and rapper who knows firsthand what it's like to be young and in prison. Jail Tales consists of a series of viral You Tube videos, short films, animated shorts, exclusive music performances and a gritty photo gallery on Facebook. Ashley will also present a Radio 1 documentary on prison and a downloadable BBC Three podcast."
Check out this video of Maverick Sabre performing a song inspired by the series.
I recommend heading over to the site to check out more videos, the one with Ashley Walters in particular.


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Coreopsis v. 'Zesty Zinger' PPAF (30)ct Flat - SIZZLE & SPICE Collection
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This Coreopsis forms a compact, rounded mound covered with rich colored flowers. 1.5", Light ivory flowers have dark magenta centers which spread toward the edge of the petals. The flowers cover the bright green, threadleaf foliage for a showy midsummer display.
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We sang songs today. We sang Are You Sleeping for Mimi Mermaid. We sang Mimi Mermaid's song.
We read stories today. We read a book about Mommy animals. We read a book about a mouse and his mom.
We went outside to play. We went to the gym. We played with balls in the gym.
Jerome played with the trains. Ajay and Sanjay played with the trains, too! So did Ravenna, and Tristan.
Cassidy made a picture at the art centre.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
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Evaporation Is The Cause
Americans are not guilty. And that worries some people. Greatly.
According to a new survey commissioned by the Rechargeable Battery Recycling Corporation, a non-profit group formed by the rechargeable battery industry to promote battery recycling, just 12 percent of Americans now feel guilty that they're not doing everything they can for the environment. That's down from 22 percent in last year's survey.And the person who wrote the article seems to know why Americans are not guilty.
...evidence suggests a different reason for the overall decline in "green guilt": When the economy is bad, concern for the environment evaporates.High energy prices (especially oil) had a role in tanking the US economy. And who are the big guns in "do not drill for oil in America"? Environmentalists. So in effect they put a gun to their own heads pulled the trigger and found that there was a bullet in the chamber.
A recent Gallup poll, for example, found that, for the first time in 25 years, a majority of Americans think economic growth should be given priority over protecting the environment.
Another poll, from the Pew Research Center, found that for Americans surveyed, the environment ranked 16th among a group of 20 national priorities, and global warming ranked dead last.
The economy, meanwhile, was No. 1.
I kept telling them that pushing alternative energy before it made economic sense was a bad policy. Well they wouldn't listen to me. Now look at where they are. Next time they should pay attention. What are the odds of that?


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I'm going crazy over the new looks (and perfect styling) from Jackson, Johnston & Roe.
Found via size too small (a wonderful blog that you should pay a visit to!)
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Jackson, Johnston and Roe
I'm going crazy over the new looks (and perfect styling) from Jackson, Johnston & Roe.
Friday, May 21, 2010
I can't even explain to you how beautiful this book ABZ is. I scanned in a few pages to give you a little preview. My favorite teacher in college brought it into class one day, and I knew right away that I couldn't live without it. If you love typography, it's an absolute must-have.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Went on a quick trip to Arizona over the weekend to visit the grandparents. We had a great time! My grandpa is quite the character! On Sunday we met a few of their friends for bagels, and I swear it could have been a Seinfeld episode.
More images here.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
I'm so in love with Shabd. Oh, that fabric! These looks are from the autumn/winter 2010 collection (sneak peak), via Unruly Things.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Lisa Stickley
Chelsea generously offered to lend me some of her old Domino magazines. I spent hours browsing through them the other night! A product of Lisa Stickley's was featured in one of the issues, and after checking out her online shop, I was NOT disappointed! The makeup bags are splendid, and I just love those florals and stripes! Very cute indeed!
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
The Sartorialist
I bought The Sartorialist book! I must say, it's the perfect addition to the coffee table! This is one of my favorite looks. Adorable!


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First of all, I'm just amazed they can't figure out, the Republicans are worried we can't pay for insuring an additional 10 million children. They sure don't care about finding $200 billion to fight the illegal war in Iraq. Where ya gonna get that money? You going to tell us lies like you're telling us today? Is that how you're going to fund the war? You don't have money to fund the war or children. But you're going to spend it to blow up innocent people if we can get enough kids to grow old enough for you to send to Iraq to get their heads blown off for the President's amusement. This bill would provide healthcare for 10 million children and unlike the President's own kids, these children can't see a doctor or receive necessary care. [...]Believe it or not, Sam Graves still voted against insuring children. He needs to go. If you're outraged, go here to make a contribution to Kay Barnes.
But President Bush's statements about children's health shouldn't be taken any more seriously than his lies about the war in Iraq. The truth is that Bush just likes to blow things up. In Iraq, in the United States and in Congress.
Friday, October 19, 2007
"Bad Sam" Graves gets Slammed by Rep. Pete Stark
Here's what the Congressman from California's 13th District has to say about people like Sam Graves:
Labels: Jeff Roe, Kay Barnes, Sam Graves
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Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Message from BT 2
She's back in Ireland happily esconsed at the homestead, but is unable to get internet access yet.
She says there's 'a man coming tomorrow' so hopefully she'll be back online forthwith.
Happy to pass on any messages by text if left in comments here.
~doffs cap~
6 comments:
- aims said...
Thanks DK! It's always good to know that she hasn't 'popped her clogs'...is that how you say it over there?
- 16 September, 2008
- willow said...
Thanks Spawn! We miss her smiling face around the bloggyhood! ;^)
- 16 September, 2008
- Olga/Maddie said...
Thanks for this latest message about what's been going on with your Mom, DK. *big smile*
And you're a spawn now, are you? Hehheh!
Anyhow, when you are next speaking with her, please tell her that I said hello? And if so, then thanks in advance.
Hope that you and yours are doing all right, that things are going okay, and that the rest of the day goes all right for you all.
God bless.
Hugs and love you. *HG*
Take care and talk to you later. Bye DK, :)!
- 16 September, 2008
- mansuetude said...
similiar sense of humor! :)
- 17 September, 2008
I think she is skiving personally! ;)
- 17 September, 2008
- BT said...
Love the Spawn of BT!!! Smee, and I'm back with internet connection at last. The man came this morning, plugged in a new charger unit or something and off it went!! Sadly I've been out most of the day so have so much to catch up on. Great to see all you guys here though. Phew...
- 17 September, 2008


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A certain young man has been hanging around here of late. His presence is especially surprising given the fact that the young man hails from the faraway state of Alaska. However, he claims to have a special motivation for these regular visits to the heart of the South.
My story begins last May, when our family had the privilege of providing music for American Vision's First Annual Worldview Superconference. A certain Alaskan was also in attendance, but had not yet crossed paths with our family ... that is, until May 26th, the second-to-last day of the conference. Over the last twenty-four hours of the conference, he kept showing up here and there, spending time getting to know our family (without us knowing exactly why). Right before we left for home, Dad extended to him an invitation to visit us. Now, this is an invitation that is given to just about everyone we get to know at conferences and other such events, and only occasionally do we ever see these people again. This time turned out to be one of those "occasionally's."
Both Mom and Dad were significantly impressed by the maturity and marked character of this young man, and commented several times to that effect.
The middle of June an e-mail arrived: "I will most likely be taking you up on your offer to visit in your home." Toward the end of the said visit, when permission was sought, permission was granted to call and e-mail a young lady in the household. Phone calls between Mom and Dad and the Alaskan, and the Alaskan and the young lady, and Mom and Dad and the Alaskan's parents, followed. Our family met up with him at two Vision Forum conferences in San Antonio, TX, where he was interning with Vision Forum. Then a visit during Christmas. Now Courting.
Yes, Tait Zimmerman is courting a young lady from SC, who happens to be me (Lauren here!).
I know what may be going through the minds of some: Courting? Isn't that what people used to do like hundreds of years ago? Isn't that terribly old-fashioned?
I now begin another story, one which commenced slightly before my last one, although the very point at which it began is difficult to determine. One might say it began before I did, though. Both of my parents dated, and knew that they wanted something better for their children. It had always been understood, from the time we were little, that we would not follow the dating route. Dad would say, half jokingly, "You can date after you're married." When we were still quite small, Mom began keeping a "courting" file, to which she added the various articles on courtship versus dating that she came across.
Several years ago, our family's plans to pursue courtship instead of dating were cemented when Dad conducted a study on courtship for our church's weekly "Family Night."
The purpose of courtship is to seek God's will towards marriage. It has both direction and a certain amount of commitment. It recognizes the father's authority, and seeks guidance from both sets of parents.
One of my favorite verses in Proverbs 31 is "She will do him good, and not evil all the days of her life." As a little girl, as a teenager, as an eligible young lady. I am some man's future wife. I must avoid the emotionally- and physically-defrauding relationship found many times in the dating process. I belong to my future husband, and must do him good ... now.
We look forward to meeting his whole family - parents and two lovely sisters - in just two days! On Wednesday, Leslie and I are off to Asheville with them to attend American Vision's Second Annual Worldview Superconference! Then, the Zimmermans will be honored guests in our home for about another week-and-a-half. I shall have oodles of pictures to post, so keep checking our family blog!
Every day, my phone rings with a call from Alaska, and I am normally busy talking and studying for about the next hour or two with Tait. The consistency of his calls has earned him the nickname "The Pesky Alaskan" (PA for short) from Leslie.
Today is exactly one year since we met Tait at that conference in the out-of-the-way town of Toccoa, GA. The respect that each person in my family holds for him has only grown with time. He has vision and a desire to truly bring everything, every thought, into captivity to the obedience of Christ (2 Corinthians 10:5).
Tait has a wonderful blog, Not by Bread Alone, and has posted a "courting post" too. Click over to read his perspective and a slightly more detailed account of our first meeting last May 26th. He hasn't had a chance to blog very much recently (all that phone time!), but has lots of great articles from the last few years.
Your prayers are appreciated as we continue to seek God's will.


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We walked, and walked in the freezing night and I kept saying to Lyle, "Are you sure you can make it? We can take the subway for part of it..." But we were both enjoying the sights and even though it was cold, we were bundled up against the elements.
As we got closer, I told Lyle that we could either speed up and make it to the top by 7 pm, or we could slow down and make it to the top by 8 pm. It was very important that I be on the top at precisely the top of the hour. Lyle said we could do 7 pm, but we only had 20 minutes to get there AND get to the top.
"It has an elevator, right?" asked Lyle.
I think it does. I answered
"You think? Or you KNOW?"
Uh, I can't promise. Now hurry up!
And off we hurried. To access the Arch, you have to go down the stairs, under the street, back up stairs, to a ticket window where you buy your pass to get to the top, up a few more stairs and then they let you pass the entrance door... and then you discover that there is no elevator but there is a spiral staircase that contains 283 steps to reach the outdoor viewing platform at the top.
No time to waste, hurry, hurry, hurry... I MUST BE ON THE TOP BY 7:00!!!
Looking up at the stairs.This is how far we had walked in the below freezing temperature, up the Champs-Elysees, from that small lighted circle in the distance which is a 197 feet tall Ferris Wheel, then up 284 stairs, as fast as possible, all so I could finally see this light show that takes place on the top of each hour...
And so we ran. Upstairs. Our legs got weak but we continued. We ran out of breath, but we continued. WE finally came out to the first interior room (way up in the top) and Lyle checked the time. Panting, he told me, "We (breath) have (breath) ten (breath) minutes (heavy breathing)." I stooped over and held myself up by resting my hands on my knees and tried to catch my breath. My legs were like jello.
"Okay, but no gift shop. Gift shop on way down." I said. (as if Lyle was even interested in the gift shop)
We caught our breath and made out way up to the top with five minutes to spare. It's the most amazing view.
"Okay, but no gift shop. Gift shop on way down." I said. (as if Lyle was even interested in the gift shop)
We caught our breath and made out way up to the top with five minutes to spare. It's the most amazing view.
It was so worth it.
Did I mention that after the light show we would have to walk back down?


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In his unfinished collection of writings on the city life of Paris the Arcades Project[1] (Passagenwerk, 1927 – 1940), Walter Benjamin asserted that the modern city is experienced in a passive state of distraction. This suggests a coping mechanism for everyday life: a perceived need to adhere to accepted codes of public conduct, numb fear in relation to the authority of urban planning and the wilful projection of consciousness into the world of the advertising poster, aspects as relevant todayMeer informatie
Redefining the Utopian: Neoliberalism, Multiplicity and Anarchism
Redefining the Utopian: Neoliberalism, Multiplicity and Anarchism When thinking about Utopia, everyone has a certain idea of what it means in his or her mind. The New Utopians project has, of course, as one of its aims to come to grasps with what the Utopian is[1], or should be seen as[2]. The general conclusion, however, remains that what is Utopian for one person might be considered as utterly Dystopian for the other[3]. Even scholarly works, that are supposed to giveMeer informatie
Revolutionary Dreams: Dissent from the Economic Inquisition
As Gilles Deleuze predicted in his famous essay "Postscript on the Societies of Control", the university is an institution that struggles in the 21st century. Since the 1990s, especially humanities departments are affected by the corporatization of the institute (Saad Filho 156). Managers judging of the value of education are judging in the economic sense, where it is not asked what something it worth, but how much it is worth (Gorz 37). This economic logic is incapable of measuring theMeer informatie
Documentaire: Student Narratives, Dialogues about a Utopian University
The New Utopians made a short video of student dialogues about their Utopian vision for a better university. We installed a red cube, at two different University libraries in Utrecht, and asked students to think about what the role of the university is today, and what, according to their ideals, the institution should be for. The idea came about in the wake of the New University movement in the Netherlands. Our group being interested in the protests also wanted toMeer informatie
Documentaire: De Utopische Universiteit
Acht studenten gingen op zoek naar de Utopische Universiteit. Zij bezochten: Dymph van den Boom (UvA), Job Cohen (Leiden), Louise Gunning-Schepers (UvA), Karel Luyben (TU Delft), Remco Raben (UU), Carel Stolker (Leiden) en Rob van der Vaart (UU).Meer informatie
The Foundation and Building Blocks of Modern Young Adult Dystopian Worlds: Narratology, Appropriation, and the Evolution of a Literary Genre, by Maaike Zoelman.
Extracts from the thesis The Foundation and Building Blocks of Modern Young Adult Dystopian Worlds: Narratology, Appropriation, and the Evolution of a Literary Genre, by Maaike Zoelman. Currently nervously awaiting the resulting grade of this thesis, Maaike will be joining the University of Hull in September 2015 to begin her PhD research in Young Adult Dystopian literature and the effects of time and memory. – This research stems from the idea that the current populist genre of Young Adult dystopianMeer informatie
The Spiritual Conquest of the World: Frederik van Eeden's Notion of Utopia, by Lisa van Vark
The Spiritual Conquest of the World: Frederik van Eeden's Notion of Utopia On the eve of the twentieth century, after the decades of optimism and technological and economic progress that accompanied the eighteenth century, the traditional concepts of identity, community, society and the city no longer held. Society was drastically changing, and with the rise of mass-production, a large working class came into existence, which altered the appearance of the city both in reality and the poetic imagination. Many reactedMeer informatie
Iain M. Banks' Excession and Surface Detail: Science Fiction, Utopia, and Gender, by Marloes de Vogel
Summary of Thesis In my thesis "Iain M. Banks' Excession and Surface Detail: Science Fiction, Utopia, and Gender", I examine Excession and Surface Detail, two of Banks' Culture novels. Both novels revolve around a highly developed intergalactic, post-scarcity society called the Culture. According to Banks, "there is another force at work in the Culture [besides its human inhabitants], and that is Artificial Intelligence" ("A Few Notes"). Within the Culture all conscious beings, whether biological, artificial, recognizably human-shaped or disembodied, areMeer informatie
"Europe Is Absent": Iceland as the Happy Place in Morris and Auden, by Eveline de Smalen
"Europe Is Absent": Iceland as the Happy Place in Morris and Auden "Europe is absent" (Collected 25), muses W.H. Auden in the poem "Journey to Iceland." It is perhaps the remoteness of the island from the events happening on the continent, as much as the country itself, that makes Iceland so appealing to Auden: "this is an island and should be / a refuge" (25-26), he continues. Removed from the political turmoil of the mid-1930s, with Hitler gaining power in GermanyMeer informatie
The Role of Utopia in Classic and Young Adult Dystopian Literature, by Michelle van Toorn
The Role of Utopia in Classic and Young Adult Dystopian Literature My thesis, "The Transformation (or Disfiguration) of the Dystopian Genre: From Classic to Young Adult Dystopias", focuses, as the title suggests, on the dystopian genre within classic and young adult literature. To assess the transformation of the genre from one literature to another, I looked at a classic, in this case Brave New World by Aldous Huxley, and the young adult novel The Maze Runner by James Dashner, whichMeer informatie


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This gorgeous vehicle is currently under development in order for its body to fit Corvette C6 chassis. The car will be presented at the 2009 Woodward Dream Cruise in Detroit, which will happen in August, and, later, it will follow to next year's SEMA Show. According to Cyrulewski, if there is enough interest, his company will start to develop kits. If he manages to make his kits look as good as his renderings, there should be little doubt about it.
Source: C3Retro


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Can you afford to buy here? If you like, we can get one of our mortgage experts to tell you exactly how much you can borrow, which is the best mortgage for you or how much they could save you right now if you have an existing mortgage. Click here to get help choosing the best mortgage rate
With a median listing price of $309,450, Mudge Island is Canada's 1356th most expensive when ordered by median listing price.
With Mudge Island's median house price at $309,450 in Aug , it is below average compared to the rest of British Columbia.
There are 359 neighbourhoods that have more properties on sale than Mudge Island at the moment in British Columbia which puts the neighbourhood lowest fifth when looking at the number of properties to choose from.
Can we guarantee how well Mudge Island is going to do next year? No, but we can look at the data we have and use it as a starting point before doing research.
When we look at the data we have, it can help with trying to establish whether or not Mudge Island is a good investment target.
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Friday, 13 December 2013
Holme andThe Storm of 8/9 December - widely compared to that of 1953
A few images from Holme of the aftermath of the Tidal Surge that left widespread destruction along the Norfolk Coast. In spite of significant erosion of the dunes the Observatory itself escaped intact .
Posted by ray roche at 03:47 No comments:
Tuesday, 10 December 2013
4 December Sunshine ...... before the Storm
|A Red Admiral Butterfly still feeding in the Flowers on the Buddleia by the Observatory
|A Juvenile Great Spotted Woodpecker, that is regularly visiting the Pines around the Observatory
Posted by ray roche at 01:09 No comments:
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So I haven't published any new content to this blog lately, but that does not mean that I have not been saving the environment, little by little.
I have recycling diligently since Oct 2008. I guess I have gathered about 40 boxes of recyclable material in that time. That's for two people!
Storage and convenience problem
I have a very simple system which means its quick, clean and easy to recycle.
I have three boxes stacked in my garage, which is attached to the house and a main traffic path. The boxes are open with a flap or two folded in. The top box is generally for plastics. Next box down is for paper. Finally in the bottom box I recycle cans, glass, batteries, light bulbs, nails etc.
To recycle glass you just pick up the top boxes and go for it, plastics you shove in the top. I have had up to 7 boxes stacked. The bottom boxes are the full boxes and don't need to be moved much.
Actually I am lazy about this and just stuff the top box until it is full. It takes about 2 mins on an evening (once or twice a week) to sort everything out and the top box is ready to go for plastics again.
How I recycle my junk
First thing is I rinse the items shortly after using them, if they need it.
I don't crush bottles, cans or other plastic containers.
Then I leave it to dry by the morning I have gathered a few things in the corner (eg sweet wrappers, packaging from dinner, papers, sauces that's almost finished etc. On the way to the car, I take the stuff and jam it in the top box, regardless of what it is.
What do I recycle?
My logic is as follows:
This drop off point is controlled by Mondi and these drop off points will know how to sort the plastics and other material.
The drop off point is kept up to date on which materials they can sort and which need to be discarded. Much more so than I. Technologies change all the time.
Social Impact
I use a drop off point at a local municipal dumping area in JHB East. My first impressions were that this place was a hovel. The tar in the area is stained and covered in an impressive layer of grime. The recyclable material is lying exposed like cheap European p*rn. Signs are dented, rusted, broken or all three. The people who run the site, are dirt poor, dirty and smelly. The sorting area is basically a few rusty drums and some very large plastic bags with two or three people sorting plastics, rummaging a living from what people have thrown away.
No attempt is made to hide the rubbish and poverty for what it is. That is why I help these people out by sorting and cleaning. This stuff is worth money to them and more so clean.
I keep reusables in a seperate bag. Reusables are for me: Take away salt and peper, sturdy plastic containers, serviettes, paper and plastic packets, damaged or useless tools, almost empy sauce bottles and things I don't want anymore. These are things that will make a difference.
My domestic worker expresses interest in the recycling, obvously she can get money for it too. But these people are broken, and she understands that. She is entitled to the reusables of course.
The first time I arrived at the site, I proudly unloaded a black bin bag full of plastics and a large box of paper. The guy was so disappointed at what I had dropped off. I felt a bit sheepish for my pride and gave the guy a couple of bucks.
Anyway by the time I got everything ship shape and got back to my car door, the guy was standing there holding my black bag of plastics. He said"Sir we dont want any rubbish". So I was like "What do you mean, that's cleaned plastic in there". He looked at me skeptically and opened the bag and looked through it. He came up smiling and says "Hai man this is good stuff".
He has never forgotten my car and I make sure he gets a little extra every time.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
My adventures in domestic recycling
Posted by RexMan at 18:31 1 comments
Tags: Personal Story, Recycling
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Here is the girls' tribute to the day from last year -- don't know what they'll come up with this year!
The Angrier Adoptee, part 1
6 days ago
Talking about adoption, birthparents, abandonment, race, and China with my kids. That's not all we talk about -- but reading this blog, you'll think it's all we do!!!!!


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To add to Maylin's posting yesterday, the New York Times has also posted their picks for the top children's books of 2008. Of the eight books selected, four are Dewey Diva picks from either Fall or Spring!
- Wabi Sabi by Mark Reibstein (Little Brown)
- The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins (Scholastic)
- Little Brother by Cory Doctorow (Tor)
- Ten Little Fingers and Ten Little Toes by Mem Fox (Harcourt)
They also have announced their picks for Best Illustrated Children's Books of 2008. There are three Dewey picks on the list:
- Wabi Sabi by Mark Reibstein (Little Brown)
- We are the Ship by Kadir Nelson (Jump at the Sun/Hyperion)
- The Little Yellow Leaf by (Harper Collins)
I'm in the process of reviewing my advance materials for Spring 2009, and I've already come across a few that I'm sure will be on many 'best of 2009' lists. Keep checking back- I'm going to post a Spring preview soon!


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December is here too fast this year. As I enter into the final stage towards getting my book to print, I need to take a wee break from the blog.
In the mean time, take a look at NAPP's Photoshop User Magazine. This edition has a nice piece from George Reis on page 88; Photoshop CS3 Extended for Research - Photoshop as a crimefighter? Learn how our favorite program is being used in the field of forensics. With George's book getting some well deserved attention from the "Photoshop establishment," I am glad that NAPP has included a section on our growing field.
In the mean time; strive, grow, and seek to be better than yourself.
Thank you so much for all of your support. It means the world to me.
Enjoy the holidays.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
The final push towards publishing the book
Posted by Jim Hoerricks at 5:31 PM
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By CHRIS JOHNSON
Warming up: Suri Cruise borrows her mother Katie Holmes' jacket as she bundles up in the cool morning air in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania today
Little Suri Cruise caught a case of the early-morning chills today as she stepped out into the crisp, fresh air.
The shivering five-year-old warmed up quickly, though, after her mother passed down her bulky suede jacket.
No doubt, fashion-forward Suri may have had a few choice words to say about her mummy's dowdy coat - but when a girl's got to get warm, a girl's got to get warm.
Feeling the chill: Just moments before the little five-year-old looked a little chilly as she accompanied her mummy on an early coffee run
That's better: The youngster looked impossibly cute trussed up in the jacket
Suri looked impossibly cute as she wandered along, drenched in the coat, though.
Meanwhile 32-year-old Katie, minus her coat and dressed casually in jeans and a cream top, warmed up with a hot coffee in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.
In a recent interview Katie, who is married to Hollywood actor Tom Cruise, revealed their daughter is quite opinionated when it comes to clothes.
Caffeine boost: Katie, dressed casually in jeans and a white top and minus her coat, warmed up with a cofee
'The other day we came out of a store, and she said, "I want to go there," pointing at another store quite a distance away,' the actress once told Elle magazine.
'In that store was the dress that she wanted. I said, "Wow, Suri. You're something. You picked that out from a football field away."'
She also added that Suri isn't afraid to tell her what she thinks of a particular outfit.
Camera shy: Suri put the coat to good use, playing a game of peekaboo with the paparazzi
Filming break: Suri and Katie later joined Tom on the set of his new movie One Shot
Her approach to fashion and beauty is certainly more advanced than most girls her age.
Not only does she wear high heels, but she also likes to carry handbags and even wears lipstick from time to time.
Tom is being joined in Pittsburg by his family where he is shooting his new movie One Shot.
Daddy's girl: Tom looked lovingly at his adorable daughter
Sun's out: As the day warmed up Suri did away with her mother's coat while Katie slipped into a cooler striped top and cardigan
Look at my doll: Suri finally revealed the indentity of the doll she was carrying in a lunchbox
On set: Tom has a laugh and a chat with an assistant on the set of his new film
Catch me if you can: The Mission Impossible actor worked up a sweat as he filmed scenes for the crime drama
Suri Cruise's Ice Cream Adventure
source: dailymail
Home » Celebrities » Entertainment » Brrrrr! Chilly Suri Cruise bundles up in her mother Katie Holmes' jacket on early-morning coffee run
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Le Comte Ory
Benini; Damrau, DiDonato, Resmark, Flórez, Degout, Pertusi
La Donna del Lago
Mariotti; DiDonato, Barcellona, Flórez, Osborn
Il Barbiere di Siviglia
Mariotti; Leonard, Brownlee, Maltman, Muraro, Burchuladze
Tenor Juan Diego Flórez gives a sensational performance in the title role of Rossini's rarely heard, gender-bending comedy. Disguised as nuns, Ory and his men gain entrance to the castle of Countess Adèle (Pretty Yende in her Met debut), but the Counts attempts at seduction go comically wrong. Karine Deshayes is Isolier, Ory's page who is also in love with the Countess and determined to beat the Count at his own game. Nathan Gunn sings Raimbaud, Ory's boon companion, and bel canto specialist Maurizio Benini conducts.
Full Synopsis
Performance Info
Hansel and Gretel
Dec 18-Jan 8
Returning for the holidays, this season's family entertainingment is richard Jone' witty production of Humperdinck's fairy-tale opera, conducted by Sir Andrew Davis, in whcih two children facre against a wicked witch.


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Prisoner of Tehran: One Woman's Story of Survival Inside a Torture Jail by Marina Nemat
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
It amazes me to read stories from around the world that reveal how in the name of religion, power, politics, revolution…. innocent people who choose not to comply end up paying such heavy prices to maintain the most basic of liberties.
It is not that I live in an idealistic world, oblivious to the realities and sufferings that result from war and violent conflict – but when one reads in such detail, the ordeal of an individual who survived a conflict, the gravity of what he/she endured really hits home. From a statistic, this person turns into someone who you get to know almost as intimately as your own family and friends, and it is that connect that provides such perspective into the silent suffering and strength of millions trapped in conflict zones.
I think with war continuing to carry on in so many parts of the world for so many years, one dismisses it as an event beyond one's control and in the process also loses sight of all the lives that are changing and getting lost everyday.
This is an important story, one that took so much courage to tell.


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Summer encore IV
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Table Top Hockey For Grown-Ups
(Note: Nothing has changed since I wrote this one. The crazies are still crazy and beer, which is legally available to everyone in our league at all times, still has a strangely disproportionate role in all of this).
For the past five years, I have played adult hockey two or three times a week, year round. As an adjective, "adult," in this context, does not have the same meaning as "adult" does when used to modify such words as "entertainment," "films," "situations," "content," or "swim." Except to change in and out of their hockey gear, no one takes their clothes off and keeps them off. Language, though, is another story. What adult hockey lacks in sex appeal, though, it makes up for in the creative, often genre-bending use of language to express enthusiasm, dispute a referee's decision, question another player's sexual orientation or gender, describe a goalie's skills, accuse an opposing player of felonious behavior or threaten an opponent with a gun duel or fight in the parking lot after a game. Grown men -- in the chronological sense, anyway -- use "adult" language to vent their frustrations in a way that puts any eight year-old's worst temper tantrums to shame, or an early teen just learning to use compound curse words. Here's a quick comparison across time, based on my coaching and playing experience, of eight to 46 year-old behavior:
Eight year-old: "Coach, I was only out for 42 seconds on my last shift! How come Josh's line played 1:19 minutes? I wanna quit!"
Fourteen year-old: "Jesus fuckin' Christ, pay fucking attention shit hole it's my fuckin' turn to go out damn fuck asswipe shithead. Piss damn pussy dickbrain are you paying fucking attention? "
Forty-six year-old: "How come I always have to play on Marty's line? He fucking sucks, doesn't fucking backcheck, just stands the fuck around doing fucking nothing. Fuck this shit . . . I can play on any team I want . . . I don't need this fucking shit!"
More so than any other sport I've played in my life -- and, from childhood through adulthood, I've played them all -- ice hockey, for some inexplicable reason, brings out the psychotic underside of even the most mild-mannered, reasonable, hey, don't-worry-about-wrecking-my-car, church-going, let-me-help-you-with-your groceries, law-abiding adult male. Guys you could never imagine stepping on an anthill, guys that stay home on Halloween to give out candy in excess quantities, guys who would stop to fix a flat tire for you in the rain or give -- not loan -- you $20 no questions asked, guys who willingly humiliate themselves at children's birthday parties to make the kids laugh, guys who agree to wear a theme sweater for a Christmas card picture . . . yes, guys like that . . . the good ones . . . can turn into raving psychopaths if they feel an opponent has slashed them behind the play, out of the referee's sight, or if they believe another team has imported a "ringer" in violation of league rules, or if they have a goal disallowed or have been called for an unjustified penalty. About a year ago, we were playing a team that included a prominent psychiatrist among its players. We were beating this team by five or six goals with about three minutes to play. The psychiatrist scored a goal, only to have it disallowed because of a teammate's crease violation. This guy went absolutely ballistic, throwing his stick over the glass, where it got caught in the protective netting that surrounds the rink, cursed the referee to the point where the veins were popping out of his throat, took off his helmet and threw it down the ice, then skated over to his team's bench, picked up all the water bottles he could find and threw them on the ice. He then skated over to our bench, stopped, leaned and said, "You'll fucking get yours you bunch of fucking assholes!" The referee then skated him off the ice. For his efforts, he received a 2 minute penalty for delay of game, a 2 minute penalty for unsportsmanlike conduct and a game misconduct, which meant he couldn't play in the next game. All because he had a goal disallowed. But . . .
"adult" hockey being "adult" hockey, he found a group of us in the parking lot after the game, walked over with a six pack of beer, gave it to me and apologized. Here's the thing: he was sincere in his apology, no one held his behavior against him and the free beer simply honored the adult hockey code -- when you think you've screwed up, pissed off your teammates or behaved badly towards another player, you acknowledge your transgression by bringing your teammates or offended opponents some beer. All is then forgotten.
* * * * * * * * * *
Beer is the all-purpose elixir of the adult hockey world, sort of like a box of Russell Stover was for mothers of my generation -- the perfect gift to say "thanks," or "I'm sorry," or "Despite his behavior, Gregg did really enjoy having you for an English teacher this year." Beer excites men who play hockey like nothing else. Sometimes, if a game is going badly, a guy might shout down the bench, "Come on, guys, there's beer afterwards. Let's just play it out and have a cold one." If tempers get heated on the ice, the calmer heads might say to each other in the face-off circle, "Jesus, man, you'd think there wasn't beer waiting for everyone after the game." Beer, beer and more beer. This is why no one who plays adult hockey calls it adult hockey. We call it beer league.
Beer is taken so seriously among adult players that people who don't drink beer after games are viewed with a level of suspicion that is matched only by learning that the really nice guy who just joined your team is a lawyer. Nice? An attorney? In Washington? Can't be, can it? A few years ago, I turned down an after-game beer from a guy on another team that we had just beat pretty badly. I thanked him but turned him down for the same reason I don't drink with my teammates after games -- athletic exertion and alcohol, for me, just don't mix. You would have thought, though, that I had just inquired whether his mother was available for an edition of MILF Hunter or whether she would provide sexual favors for my teammates. Every time I was on the ice against this guy the next time we played his team was this:
"It's the queer that don't drink beer! . . . it's the queer that don't drink beer!" . . . and on and on he went. A friend of mine who played for this team skated over to him after about the fourth or fifth round of this, put his glove on this guy's shoulder and said something to him. The "taunting" stopped. In the handshake line after the game, this guy pulled me aside and "apologized" for his oh-so-creative sloganeering. "I had no idea, man, that you were an alcoholic. I'm so sorry. I can relate, man, I've got family that's struggled. God bless you!"
I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything at all. My friend was standing off to the side laughing hysterically. Okay, okay, I nodded. You got me.
So what happened later? I was putting my hockey bag in my car when I heard someone say, "Hey, man, I'm sorry and I just wanted to apologize again." I turned around and it was my nemesis, the guy who had just apologized to me on the ice. "Hey, don't worry about it," I said. "You couldn't have known."
"Let me make things right," he responded. He held out a six-pack of beer.
"I can't. You know . . . " I told him.
"Not even one?"
"No, not even one."
"Shit, man, that sucks."
About a month later, we played his team again. This time he didn't say a word to me when we were on the ice together. But the first chance he got, he checked the living hell out of me, gladly taking his two minute penalty without an argument, something most players don't do. Later on, as I was preparing for a face-off, I heard him shout from his defenseman's position, "DON'T YOU EVER TURN DOWN A FUCKING BEER FROM ME AGAIN, YOU FUCKING NON-ALCOHOLIC BASTARD!" I looked over at the opposing bench, and my friend was doubled over in laughter. What could I do?
So what happened after the game? Would you believe me if I told you that the same guy who had just yelled at me on the ice walked over to my car, gave me a beer, extended his hand, didn't say a word and walked back to his car? Hockey code.
True story.
* * * * * * * * * *
A goalie that sometimes comes out to play in a closed pick-up game I play in on Sunday nights pours scotch into the water bottle he keeps on top of the net. How do I know this? I was the last one getting on the ice one night, and the goalie was finishing up with his equipment. He reached into his hockey bag, took out a bottle of scotch, and poured it into the squirt bottle he took with him out on the ice.
Whatever works for you, I guess.
* * * * * * * * * *
I knew nothing about the world of adult hockey until December 2002. My son started an instructional hockey program, and I started skating again after a 26 year layoff so that I could take him to public skates and eventually get out on the ice with him. Until then, my ice hockey experience had consisted of one pick-up game organized by some guys in my neighborhood when I was about 14. Growing up in Atlanta, there was only one ice rink, and very few people knew where it was, much less how to skate. In 1972, when I was 11, the NHL awarded a franchise to Atlanta, the now Calgary Flames, and I fell completely in love with hockey. My friends and I started playing street hockey in Jeff Balser's cul-de-sac, spray painting lines on the street for offsides. We even built a penalty box, which resembled, now that I think about it, a dunking booth. One of the older kids in the neighborhood had moved down from Michigan, and he got the bright idea one day to rent some ice at our local rink. The only ice we could afford didn't start until midnight, but we went ahead and played anyway. Of course, we hadn't thought about equipment. No one had any, so we took catcher's gear and turned it into hockey protective gear. And, yes, the goalie even used phone books with duct tape, just like the guy in the Mighty Ducks movie. I remember using football shoulder pads, catcher's shin guards and some mittens. Helmets? The pros didn't even use them, so wearing one never crossed any of our minds. I remember having a great time for that hour or so. I never imagined that I would do the same thing -- with real equipment this time -- two or three times a week at 11.00 o'clock at night 26+ years later.
Finding an adult team is sort of like joining the Mob. My invitation into the adult hockey world came in January 2003, when I was skating with my son at what's called a "stick and puck" session. Local rinks reserve ice time for informal practice sessions. You can skate, shoot on goalies, provided one comes, organize scrimmages, play small games and so on. I was standing around fiddling with the puck waiting for a turn to shoot on the goalie when a guy I had never seen skated up to me and asked, "Who do you play for?"
I had just learned about adult hockey leagues a week or so before when the Washington Post ran a great story in its Sunday magazine on their growing popularity. By coincidence, I had met one of the guys whose team was featured in the story the week before. He told me about how to get on a team, but told me that most rosters were "frozen" because the season had already started. Luckily, for me, my free agent status turned out to work in my favor.
I told this guy I didn't play for anyone but wanted to. He told me, looking around carefully to make sure no one could hear him, to show up the next night at the Wheaton Ice Rink and I could play for his team. My biggest fear went right to the heart of male sports insecurity . . .
"Just tell me I won't be the worst one out there," I said.
"Not even close," he said.
"'Not even close?'" Intriguing. Was I that good? Maybe I was. Maybe I would become the first over-40 suburban dad who had never played a game of organized ice hockey to make it to the NHL. Maybe . . .
. . . I had just gotten carried away with myself. I didn't know what to expect when I showed up the next night in the locker room, but it never occurred to me that I had just joined a team that made the Johnstown Chiefs look like the 1984 Edmonton Oilers. Bob, the man who had recruited me the day before, was right. I wasn't the worst player . . . more like one of the least incompetent.
The opening face-off did not bode well for my new amateur career. My opponent must have weighed a good 375 lbs. We got tangled up on the draw, and, as fate would have it, he fell on me right at center ice. I managed to get up, thankful that I had decided to buy the more expensive shoulder pads when I was getting myself outfitted. Turns out this guy had moved to the U.S. from Canada to attend college, but had never played hockey before. Just my luck. I get crushed by the only Canadian never to play his country's national sport.
I survived though, and went on to score a couple of goals. My new teammates accepted me right away, even though I was the second oldest guy on the team. The "Force," as we were known, consisted of a husband and wife team -- he, a self-styled unappreciated hockey genius who consistently shouted unintelligible instructions at us; she, an absolutely delightful woman who was always the first to give up her shift if she felt we had a chance to protect a lead or tie a game -- three guys straight out of college who all played lacrosse and were slow to learn the rules on stick control in hockey; a professional firefighter who was our star player and with whom I developed an instant and lasting friendship; a couple of random head cases, including one guy who used to speak French to everyone even though he was an American who merely learned the language in college; and, of course, Bob, who was a year or two older than me, and was picking up the game again for the first time since high school. Bob and I sort of became the internal police on our team, holding off the young guys who were determined to take their lacrosse backgrounds on the ice, and acting as diplomatic envoys to other teams who had their share of former lacrosse players sprinkled in their midst. Strangely enough, the Force began to take on a significance in my life disproportionate to its actual importance. Bob would call me once or twice a day to talk about line adjustments and power play units. Steve the Firefighter would email me with questions about whether so-and-so should play left or right wing, and should we go after the Berlin Brothers on the Cobras or just let them take their penalties. Here's the scary part: I thought about these questions, and actually found myself scribbling out line combinations, power play units, guys who I thought should kill penalties and whether anyone should encourage our goalie to attend some clinics to improve his glove hand. Really, I did. In high school, I used to spend most of my time calculating my batting average, or whether I'd rather play with Chris Squire or Paul McCartney if I were granted my dying wish of choosing a bassist to start my band. But I was 15 or 16 then. Now, I was adult with a mortgage, "tax strategies" to think about, two kids and a leaky basement. Why was I thinking about this stuff?
A lot?
* * * * * * * * * *
The Force, by mutual consent, disbanded after our initial season together, and I ended up playing for a new team to which I was also recruited. This fortunate turn of events meant I got to meet the one person who is by far the best reason to have ever played adult hockey. In every league, there is one player who everyone knows, whether they play on the same team with him or not. Everyone knows him not because he is the best player, the fastest skater or the quickest shot. No, it's that distinctive personality, combined with certain physical traits, bizarre political views and the world's largest collection of hockey-related clothing, broken sticks, used gloves, game worn jock straps, Mario Lemeiux's childhood underpants, and other such stuff.
In our league, that person is Lowell.
My first encounter with Lowell came when my first team, the Force, was playing his team, whose name I've now forgotten. Before the game, I noticed a guy on the other team who resembled Shrek had Shrek decided to join Hell's Angels. He was 6'9" on skates, and, as I would later discover, about 390 lbs. During our first game against Lowell's team, I was along the boards fighting for the puck when all of a sudden I felt a stick go up between my legs into a rather sensitive area. Then a second guy, only a little smaller, joined in the fun. Then I heard this scruffy voice go, "Feel like you're in prison? How's the shower room treating you? Does this feel good?"
No, it didn't feel good, and for the rest of the game I was terrorized by Lowell and his fellow henchman. After the game, Lowell stood waiting for me in the lobby with a big grin on his face. "Jesus," I thought. "Why him?" Before I could say a word, this EXTREMELY LARGE man, standing there in spandex hockey shorts, shower shoes, huge tattoos on each leg, another one of the Pittsburgh Penguins logo on his bicep (now matched on the other bicep by a HUGE tatoo of the Pittsburgh sky line), walks over to me, gives me his business card and says, "I'm starting a new team out in Reston. You're on it."
Lowell didn't ask me if I wanted to play on his team. He didn't ask me my schedule. He didn't ask me anything except what number I wanted on the jersey he had already ordered for me.
Apparently, his stick work was just Lowell's little way of introducing himself.
Lowell is the type of guy who is on a first name basis with everyone, whether he knows that person or not. His run-ins with people famous and not-so-famous always include a near-act of violence or, at minimum, a heated argument that involved him nearly reaching for the Glock he (legally) carries in the glove box of his Explorer truck, which has a vanity plate reading, "2-4-RFFING." I don't know if he carries a gun on his motorcycle, which has a vanity plate reading, "JGRSUX." Those disputes usually involve a threat to run someone over with his bike, or just simply strangle them with his bare hands.
Like this:
"Hey, man, I told Osama Bin Laden not to bring that shit around here, and he's, like, look, Lowell, you're not the one I have a problem with, and I'm like I don't give a shit . . . "
"Anyway, man, I ran into this waitress from Hooters who was like, 'Hey Lowell, where you been, and I'm like talk to my wife she won't let me out." Of course, Lowell has a VIP card for Hooters, which he has used to treat me to that establishment's fine cuisine.
I've now played with Lowell on four teams over five years, one of which we co-captained. He helped me coach my son's teams for two years, and the initial apprehension of an 11 year-old seeing Lowell skate toward him in a checking drill quickly went away after he realized that Lowell's bark doesn't have a bite to match. Remember that guy I mentioned at the beginning, the nice guy who would do anything for you but turns into a psycho when he puts on a jersey and steps onto the ice? That person is Lowell, except he just thinks he's a psycho. A friend of mine said you go through three stages before you figure out Lowell. The first is fear; the second is a nervous laughter; the third is just laughter. Although to the untrained eye he comes across as a hybrid of Ogie Oglethorpe from "Slap Shot" and John Goodman's character, Walter, from "The Big Lebowski, in reality, he's one of the nicest, most generous people you could ever hope to meet -- in hockey world or outside of it.
* * * * * * * * * *
That is really the best part of all this -- meeting people that you would never meet in your ordinary personal and professional circles. Your first adult hockey team is sort of like that first experience in your freshman dorm . . . where else would I meet a firefighter, a plumbing salesman, the journalist who wrote the Washington Post story on adult hockey (who now plays on my team), the team dentist of the Washington Capitals, our local Bronx-born bagel tycoon whose harassment and abuse of everyone and everything, including his customers ("You suck, Ivers!") fails to mask an open and always giving heart, guys running businesses out of their houses so they can take care of their kids, civic activists like Paul McKenzie, a teammate and friend who passed away last March from pneumonia, Charles Duelfer, the lead investigator for the C.I.A. who wrote the report concluding that Saddam Hussein did not possess WMD and many, many others from different walks of life. Academia is a bubble in which I have never been comfortable. Hockey not only is a great game and a great workout. It is a great leveling force that reminds you that what we do professionally doesn't make us better than anyone else, and that a guy who sells burglar alarm systems isn't really that much different from an attorney billing $700 per hour. You can either skate, defend, pass and score, or you can't.
* * * * * * * * * *
I have had three orthopedic surgeries since I started playing hockey five years ago -- one to repair a completely torn rotator cuff, an injury I waited nine months to treat because I didn't want to miss the winter season; one to repair a torn meniscus; and, most recently, one to repair my right pinky finger. I waited to schedule that procedure until my team had an off-week so I wouldn't miss a game. I've also had two E.R. visits for severely bruised ribs. My non-hockey friends always ask me if my latest injury means I'm through playing. My hockey friends ask me how long I'll be out before I can play again, which is the only right question to ask.
* * * * * * * * * *
I did an abbreviated stint with a team one summer that I thought consisted of pretty normal guys. I didn't have to run the team, just play, so I figured playing on an extra team would be fun.
Not so.
I had my first suspicions when the "captain" started bringing a stop watch to games to time individual shifts. I had set aside my earlier qualms about his excessive interest in our uniform design, who would get what number, how our relegation to a certain line would be based on our individual "productivity," and other such behavior more consistent with ten year-olds than adult men. I thought it was kind of odd that a couple of players -- the ones right out of college -- took beers with them to the bench, or that one guy habitually confused the direction we were skating offensively and once shot on our own goalie, but nonetheless stayed in our boss's good graces, or the retired Marine on our team who ended up in a fight or near-fight every game, but nonetheless addressed everyone as "sir." But I put those concerns aside and just skated my shifts . . . when the boss, who was by far the worst player on the team and maybe the entire league, deemed I had earned one.
What led to leave this team after the summer was our boss's decision to take the 20 year-old kid on our team to small claims court because he hadn't paid for his jersey and socks. Anybody else would have divided the cost of the jersey and socks by the rest of the guys on the team and chipped in for him. Not this guy. I got the hell out of there -- and took Lowell with me.
* * * * * * * * * *
My team is the Red Army. Our jerseys are replicas of the old Soviet teams that dominated world hockey until the Canadians and Americans started sending their professionals to play in the Olympics and other world-wide tournaments. We even have our names in Cyrillic on the back. A hockey friend told me once that was a nice touch, making our jerseys more authentic. I told him that wasn't the point. Rather, if no one could read the names on the back of our jerseys, no one could point out by name how bad we were.
I serve as captain of our team, which doesn't really mean anything when you have 15 guys -- and one especially -- who all think they should be in charge. Being captain means you serve as banker, general manager, player rep to our league board in the event that someone wants to file a grievance against another team or allege some undetected criminal infraction against another player and team mother, nurturing prima donnas who demand a "real" play-making center rather than, oh, I don't know, me. My most recent team has been together for almost two years, and we get along very well, having only had one real "crisis" during that time. That involved having to get rid of our goalie, who, while fundamentally a nice guy, turns into a complete nut job on the ice. When the player that leads your team in penalty minutes is your goalie, it's time to make a change.
Most of the guys who play on my team also coach their kids. We also have some single guys who volunteer their time to coach local high schools or teams in my son's hockey club. Guys like me benefit from meeting guys like Adam, one of the best players on our team, who is one of those single guys who gives his time to kids for no other reason than he loves the game and has the skills to teach it. Or Alan, a great player with the knowledge to match, and genuinely cares about seeing the lesser of us get better. And there is, of course, Jay, our resident "hockey whore" who will play anytime, anywhere and for any team as long as there is someone to pass him the puck. Despite his constant unflattering assessments of my playmaking abilities, I forgive him because I think his wife is absolutely gorgeous -- almost as gorgeous as mine -- and don't want to get on her bad side.
Sometimes, all this knowledge is not so good, since it can give the "coaches" the impression that they know more about the game than we -- I mean, they -- do. On the other hand, it's good, as playing a game we also coach reminds us on a weekly basis how hard hockey is to play, much less play well.
Our team plays in a league that is not affiliated with any of the major companies than run adult hockey in North America. We're basically a co-op, managing our own affairs and purchasing our own ice time. "We" is a bit of a stretch. The Ice Pack Hockey League is really the brainchild of one person, Gary Rosenfeld, who, like, Lowell, is the only other person that everyone knows by his first name. Gary isn't at all like Lowell, except for the fact that they both have hearts that far exceed their bodies' physical capacities. Gary modestly says that we are a collective enterprise, but everyone knows that Gary does everything for us -- organizes the schedule, makes sure that teams pay their dues, counsels teams to get certain players under control, resolves disputes and provides us with some of our best spent time of the week -- and asks only that we try to act like grown-ups when we're on the ice.
I'm not the oldest guy on my team this time, and I don't think I'm the worst either -- two good things. Even though we are a laid-back team by adult hockey standards, we have our share of characters. Leading the way are our own "Hanson Brothers," Elan and Eli, by far the best
players on our team. Of course, it helps that they are under 30 and can still skate more than
four shifts without feeling the need to throw up. I met them when they joined my team, sight unseen, for our first season two years ago. It took them a couple of months to realize that "no-check" hockey meant "no-check" hockey (although there are plenty of people who "have trouble stopping," but that's a different story). For a while there, I kept expecting to walk in the locker room and see them playing with their slot cars. Once it kicked in that this was hockey for old guys (I'd say the average age of guys playing in our league is about 45. The range is 21-65), they adjusted their game and became model citizens. Sure, they are great players by rec hockey standards, but the best thing about them is their personalities. They know they're stuff and always have something constructive to say without being obnoxious. Having young guys around makes things more fun, and forces you to try a little harder so you won't embarrass yourself in front of them . . . sort of like covering your bald spot and sucking in your gut when you see a pretty young girl, even though she is oblivious to you.
And then there are the rest of us . . . the guy who wants to get the rink a little early so we can discuss "strategy," but usually arrives five minutes before the game, the addict who keeps track of his plus-minus statistics, knows who every other player is playing at every level in every league in the DC area, and is the first to eyeball ringers ("I know that guy plays for the Zodiacs in the Laurel league. He's an A player. Find out if he's registered.") brought in to upgrade a team, the guys who work on Capitol Hill who take their Blackberrys to the bench and check their messages between shifts, the guy who won't take a shower after the game, the guy who reminds everyone that he was president of his law school class, the token Republican whose enthusiasm for guns and other weapons of violence immunizes him from the abuse that regularly flows back and forth in the locker room, the "specialist" who only plays left wing and the guy who keeps insisting that every game is his last one, something he has been doing for two years. For a while, we had a team doctor, although, as an OBGYN, that didn't do us much good.
Elan just left us to move to New York. We'll find someone else to take his place but there is no way anyone can replace his personality. I'm not sure what it says when a bunch of 40-something guys are hanging their heads because they're really going to miss hanging around with a 26 year-old guy on Tuesday nights at midnight.
But . . . we still have Lowell.
* * * * * * * * * *
The most remarkable thing about the whole adult hockey madness is that, with just a few exceptions, everyone is out to have a good time and not cause any problems. A few months ago, the hockey club our kids play in, Montgomery Youth Hockey, held its now-annual "Coaches Tournament." Translated, our club donated some ice time to the coaches who donate their time during the year to coach kids. Gary, of course, drew up the teams and organized the event and we skated for about two consecutive hours with only a minimal break between periods and games. Our skill levels varied wildly, from the most novice player to the guys who played junior or minor league hockey, and played it pretty well. But once the better players got an idea of who could or couldn't do what, they adjusted their games to get everyone involved. Naturally, the only meltdown came from the goalie who used to play for my team, and by that time I had put on waivers.
Then, in something that would never happen in any other sport, we all lined up at center ice after the games were over and went through the traditional post-game handshake line that is unique to hockey. No referees or "league officials" were there, no league officials, no one, really, except a bunch of guys whose best days, to the extent we ever had any, were way behind us. Isolated moments of confrontation were quickly forgotten, and smiles and laughter replaced the sometimes-too-intense attitudes that we have on the ice. No one "made" us shake hands. We just did it because that is what you always do.
Besides, there was beer on ice in the locker rooms waiting for us. And in the world of table top hockey for grown-ups, that is all that ultimately matters.


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Ah. The "Profile Bio". Something all of us know how to make, but many would think it obscure. There is no article on wikipedia nor anywhere else that tells you how to make or write one. I shall perform an act of irony, and put the first how-to make a Profile Bio in a Profile Bio. Many are just one-hundred and eighty characters, but Desura has generously provideed us with one-thousand. If Desura had only provided us with one-hundred and eighty characters, I would not have the space to tell you all of this. As a matter of fact we have four-hundred and eleven characters at this period. There are three main types of Profile Bios. The first is the classic "Long Winded Nothing", like this one. The second tells you everything, and I mean everything, about the person writing the bio. The third is all lies. There is a fourth, but it doesn't count for much at all. The fourth kind of person doesn't write anything at all. You have no life, you read a 1k letter essay. I don't friend losers like you
This is a phenomenal game with fantastic music. The levels are easy enough to play, and going back for SS provides a nice challenge, unlike so many games where it's impossible to fail. If all that's too easy for you, there are a few extremely difficult levels in each area that are harder to finish. Of course, you'll have to find them first...
Totally badass engine, it does exactly what I needed it to do.
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In May my brother came to visit.
In June my brother-in-law and his family moved out of state for a job opportunity. All the siblings got together one last time the day they were leaving. It was a bittersweet time. I'm super excited about their new adventure together, but I miss them so much!
My sisters-in-law and me
All of us.
At the end of June (the day before my birthday) marked one year of a good friend's passing. I will never forget our time together and I don't think I will ever stop missing him.
I wrote about my friend Jared here. Take a minute and read it.
Jeremy and I have been together for 4 years and in a couple of weeks we will be celebrating 3 years of marriage!
We took a trip to Santa Cruz awhile ago, just for fun.
I've been working on new jewelry ideas:
If you are ever interested in any of my jewelry, feel free to tell me.
I am sold out of the owl earrings and necklaces, but have more owl items coming!
I have been spending a lot of time with this cutie! My adorable niece.
I have been missing these wonderful nieces of mine.
They took a piece of my heart with them when they moved away.
So, there is a little picture update for all of you. I would like to say I will be better at writing in the future, but I can't promise that. We will just have to wait and see what the future holds. One thing I know for sure, God has been blessing my life and opening my eyes to new things and new possibilities.


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Prolotherapy, also known as Proliferative therapy regenerative injection therapy (RIT), is a form of treatment for chronic musculoskeletal pain. It is commonly used to correct arthritis, back pain, neck pain, sports injuries, whiplash, carpal tunnel syndrome, chronic tendonitis, partially torn tendons, degenerated or herniated discs, TMJ, sciatica, and fibromyalgia. Prolotherapy is particularly effective because it corrects the original cause of pain, rather than merely alleviating symptoms.
Patients whose pain has increased despite anti-inflammatory medications, cortisone shots, arthroscopy, and joint replacement surgery typically feel relief after undergoing prolotherapy. Additionally, many athletes use prolotherapy to accelerate the recovery time from injuries like ACL tears. Patients who wish to participate in prolotherapy must have a strong immune system, maintain a healthy diet, have normal hormone levels, and be able to move and exercise.
How it works
First, the physician performs a palpatory exam to locate the area causing the pain. It is important that the injections are inserted into the areas causing the pain, not the areas where the pain is felt.
A proliferant, or mild irritant solution, is injected into the problematic ligament or tendon, where it attaches to the bone, causing a localized inflammation. The inflammation increases the blood supply and the flow of nutrients to the area and stimulates the tissue to repair itself. New collagen, which is the building block of ligament and tendon tissue, is formed and begins to shrink, tightening the area that was injected and strengthening the tissue.
Injections may also be given to injured joints to stimulate cartilage growth and repair injured tissue, as well as to reduce the joint instability that leads to degeneration.
The average number of injections needed is between four and six, though the amount is variable and can be as low as two injections or as high as ten, depending on the body's ability to heal itself and the technique and skill of the physician.
Prolotherapy techniques
Hackett-Hemwall Dextrose Prolotherapy
With Hackett-Hemwall Dextrose Prolotherapy, the irritant solution contains dextrose (sugar) and an anesthetic (either Procaine or Lidocaine). Multiple injections are given at once, into and around the injured area. Multiple body parts can be treated during the same visit and other proliferants may be added to the base solution.
Platelet Rich Plasma Prolotherapy
Platelet Rich Plasma Prolotherapy requires the patient's blood to be drawn and processed to extract growth factors. The growth factors are then added to the proliferant and injected into the injured area. Additionally, dextrose is injected into the areas surrounding the injury.
Platelet Rich Plasma Prolotherapy is used for more advanced injuries that require the growth factors' assistance in stimulating new growth in the injured area.
Stem Cell Prolotherapy
All joints have a limited ability to heal themselves. Stem cell prolotherapy is unique in that it makes joint anabolic (in the process of building).
The stem cells are obtained from bone marrow (from the shin or hip) or fat (from the love handles or stomach) and are mixed into a solution with platelet rich plasma. The stem cells and platelets help generate additional new growth.
Like Platelet Rich Prolotherapy, stem cell prolotherapy is used for more advanced injuries. Treatments are administered every six to eight weeks.
Prolotherapy is typically a permanent solution to chronic pain. It ultimately improves function of the area injected, reduces stiffness, and reduces or eliminates pain. After the first visit, 50-75% of the pain is reduced, and the pain continues to diminish over the remaining treatment period. By reducing pain, prolotherapy also enables patients to improve the strength of the injured area.
- Bruising in treatment area
- Increased pain
- Swelling
- Stiffness
- Joint effusion
- Infection
- Puncture of lung if treating spine
- Tendon/ligament injury
Side effects and outcomes are unique to each patient and will be discussed before any treatment options are prescribed.


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From the Blog
- STRESS: WHAT'S THE REMEDY? 26-May-2014
- You're only as old as you feel... 11-Feb-2013
- What time is it? Where are you working? 03-Apr-2012
- You Don't Have to be What You've Always Been…. 16-Mar-2012
- Employers Save by Hiring Older Workers 06-Feb-2012


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I find it amazingly difficult to complete an assignment, from start to finish, in one brutal sitting. Take, for instance, this gasbags homework. It's not that hard and it's almost completely from our notes, but instead I'm playing with garbanzo beans and updating my blog. Fortunately, I have a lot to write in the next week, so I'm using this as an excuse to get me started on the very mechanics of writing things, such that I am better able to talk about my experiences in the world of astronomy. The one downside is that I've been told that my personal statement reads like a cookbook, so I'm not quite sure that the food blogging is helping. ;)
The aforementioned farmers' market veggies sat sadly in my refrigerator, feeling abandoned yesterday. Instead of making the stir-fry I had planned, we went to Chuy's instead, and I had lackluster flautas and watery salsa. I felt that I had to make amends to my delicious veggies and so for dinner last night, I made chicken and veggies, cooked in parchment paper with roasted garlic mashed potatoes. The mashed potatoes will be making an appearance at Thanksgiving, so I wanted to practice a bit. I'm still working on perfecting the recipe, so more details to come on that later when I've decided that it's good enough.
Chicken in parchment
1 boneless, skinless chicken breast, halved into two congruent pieces
2 tbs olive oil
2 tbs butter
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tbs basil
1 tsp tarragon
1/2 tsp red pepper flakes
broccoli florets, cut into small, uniform pieces
1 green pepper, cut into small slices
2 20in sheets of parchment paper, folded in half and then reopened
preheat the oven to 400. mix the olive oil, basil, tarragon, garlic, red pepper flakes and veggies. season chicken breast w/s+p. Set down 1/4 of the vegetable+herb mix on the fold of the parchment + 1/2 tbs of butter. place the chicken breast down on top of that and then place another 1/4 of the veggies and another 1/2 tbs of butter. Seal up the parchment paper to make a sac, much like making an empanada... out of paper that is infused with silicone... repeat. Place the two chicken sacs on a baking sheet and bake for 35+/-5m until it's done. Nom nom away.
03 November 2008
NaBloPoMo Day Three: Continuous Cooking
posted by julie k h aka jkru at 2:42 AM
3 comments:
i can't believe you! stealing cookthink recipes and passing them off as your own... for shame, woman.
- November 4, 2008 at 8:32 AM
- jkru said...
Oops! I definitely didn't mean to do that!!! I'm usually good about crediting the source. Though, in my defense, I have a blog readership of about two people, only one of whom would ever consider cooking something I've posted, so my posts are mostly so I can dig up recipes I've cooked before. I'll most definitely be sure to include the citation and link in today's post. Thanks for keeping me on my toes!
- November 4, 2008 at 11:05 AM
- Johnny Banana said...
Man, it's too bad no one ever thought of such a recipe before.
- November 5, 2008 at 2:02 AM
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An eye lash curler can help you show your lashes off and open up your eyes. It makes the lashes more visible- even small ones. If picking a curler is leaving you cross-eyed, let us help you review your options- based on recommendations from Beautilish. Your lashes will thank you.
Contrary to popular belief, eyelash curlers will not rip all your lashes out—even if you prefer to apply mascara first (though we don't recommend it). Realistically speaking, you may lose a lash or two here and there with regular curling, but this is normal. If your curler pinches or pulls when you use it, it may not be the best choice for your particular lashes.
Everyone's lashes are different. A curler that works great on your friend's smaller eyes may feel awkward on your longer lids. Take both your eye shape and lash length into consideration when choosing a curler. Look for long clamps that curve along your lash line to ensure you don't miss a curl!
If your lashes are especially short, you might benefit more from a less curved curler. A flatter clamp will make it easier to get close to your lash line without having to manoeuvre the curler at odd angles, which can cause stress to the little hairs. A point curler is flat and meant for curling small, hard-to-reach inner lashes, so it might be a good option for short eyelashes, too.
If you're serious about lash curling, an electric curler can be a great option for a high power curve that lasts all day. The design is often clunker than run-of-the-mill metal curlers, and the idea of putting something hot near one's eyes is enough to make most of us a little uneasy. Before you nix the idea, know that most electric curlers don't get hot enough to burn you, and the heat level won't cause damage to your lashes either.
Take a tip from the pros and warm a regular metal curler with a hair dryer for a few seconds before using. It works just as great as an electric model, but for a fraction of the price. Of course, on a frantic morning you may find yourself wishing you'd splurged.
Even though there are hundreds of fanciful and high tech curlers hoping for a home in your makeup bag, sometimes the best choice is the simplest. The good old do-it-yourself metal clamping curler is without a doubt the easiest to find, most user-friendly option.
Read more articles on Beauty & Personal Care.
Though all possible measures have been taken to ensure accuracy, reliability, timeliness and authenticity of the information; Onlymyhealth assumes no liability for the same. Using any information of this website is at the viewers' risk. Please be informed that we are not responsible for advice/tips given by any third party in form of comments on article pages . If you have or suspect having any medical condition, kindly contact your professional health care provider.


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If "The Electric Company" was your childhood PBS TV favorite, you'll have to wait until Feb. 7, 2006, to get your fix. That's when Sesame Workshop (formerly Children's Television Workshop) will release 24 of 780 episodes of the kid (and adult) classic in a four-DVD boxed set.
The 24 episodes will have the most memorable skits, least repetition and best representation of celebrities (including Morgan Freeman, Bill Cosby and Rita Moreno), says Heather Hanssen, a spokeswoman for Sesame Workshop.