Brian D. Buckley

I listen to the news on NPR (National Public Radio) every morning — I’m one of those people. Occasionally they advertise other programs that are on NPR at other times of the day. One program they keep talking about is the Rough Draft Diaries.

I have absolutely no idea what it’s about.

Now, I’ve never actually listened to it, so I don’t expect I should know much about it. But I have no idea whatsoever what this program is. And it’s weird, because I’ve heard dozens of little ads for it, which are specifically designed to entice their listeners, and which change from week to week. Generally even a 10-second ad (whether it’s radio, TV, web, whatever) gives you at least some idea of what the product is. Science show, game show, documentary, podcast, reality TV, horror movie, political commentary, classical music. You may not understand the product at a deep level, but you get what category it’s in. But with this show? Nothing.

I’ve tried to piece it together from the fragments of data I’ve received, which are minimal:

• The title: Rough Draft Diaries. Are we talking about the rough-draft versions of diaries? Or diaries about rough drafts? The latter seems more plausible — I’m imagining perhaps a series of interviews with artists, writers, etc., who talk about their works-in-progress.
• The ads often feature the host asking a guest to choose three “nominations.” The guest (invariably someone I’ve never heard of) makes three choices, which all seem to be nonprofit organizations of some kind (again, groups I’ve never heard of). The host then says “You’ll have to tune in to find out which one I picked.”

I think that’s it. That’s all I know.

But those two fragments seem completely unrelated to each other. And, absent any other context, the request to “tune in to find out which one I picked” feels almost surreal. A Person chooses among three Groups selected by Another Person; rough drafts are perhaps involved? How can you say no?!

I could, of course, simply google the damn thing and find out in thirty seconds what it’s all about. I have not yet done this, for several reasons:

• I’m mildly stubborn on occasion.
• The show’s content itself — from the microscopic amount I know about it — really doesn’t entice me at all. I don’t especially care about the show. I’m more just enthralled by the existence of the mystery.
• I’m also sort of fascinated by how long this bubble of ignorance can last. The more ads I hear, the more bizarre the gap in my knowledge becomes, and it’s hard to look away.
• I like bullet points?

If any of my readers knows the solution to the riddle of the Rough Draft Diaries, you can leave it in the comments, or let it remain a mystery — your choice. Alternatively, you can make something up and see if I’m savvy enough to tell the difference.

Happy weekend, and may all your diary drafts be rough.

I keep wanting to post something longer and more substantive, but things keep getting in the way. Sometimes I’m busy with work, sometimes with Evan, sometimes (as in the past few days) being sick. And beyond that, my brain feels lately like it’s all over the place. Not sure if I’m more fractured than normal, or just noticing it more, but here are some of the fragments that have been rattling around my skull lately:

• Last night, after finishing Isaiah, I read Lamentations (it’s short — just five chapters). It’s about the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple circa 2,500 years ago. Very sad reading, especially because it uses very specific images of suffering. I think that being a parent makes a lot of those images more real.
• I’ve been learning more about WordPress.org and how to use plugins, which is interesting. I’m constantly struck by how everything in the world — things I’ve barely thought about, or never even heard of — has its own little universe inside, with its own rules, philosophies, arguments, misconceptions, villains, and heroes.
• Evan can now say yellow (“veh-woh”), blue (“bvooh”), purple (“puh-puh”), and green (“hee”) to mean those specific colors, with surprising consistency. It’s so cool.
• The Frozen song “Let It Go” is infamous among parents, but I actually love it (especially with the video). We showed it to Evan recently, and he was enthralled. I keep admiring the animation, the music, the singing, the writing, the specific word choices, and the way the scene operates in the overall story. My brain keeps analyzing it, breaking it down into pieces and seeing how they fit together. I know how absurd that sounds, and I would say that I’m sorry or embarrassed, except that both of those would be lies.
• My brain does anagrams constantly now. It’s almost subconscious — anything I see, I start rearranging letters. Elsa = sale. Turing = I grunt. Delsym (a cough medicine) = my sled. I think I’m going crazy. Loco = cool.
• Betsy just returned from a business trip, and it’s good to have her back. (Betsy = bytes.)
• In the span of a single month, I did work for both MIT Press and McGraw-Hill. I am feeling like a bona fide Real Editor.
• I’ve been making a big push to work on Crane Girl for at least 30 minutes a day, even on weekends and holidays, even when I’m sick. Right now I’m on a 13-day streak, which is cool. One good side effect of working on a project regularly is that it starts to seep into your subconscious, and you find yourself thinking about it even when you’re not “supposed” to be.
• Etc., etc.

All done.

I just finished reading the biblical book of Isaiah for the first time, as part of my extremely-slow-but-not-quite-dead Great Bible Read. Isaiah’s a remarkably complicated book, and I may write about my thoughts in more depth if I ever get time.

I’ve gotta mention one thing, though. In Isaiah 60:17 (NRSV), God is quoted as saying:

Instead of bronze I will bring gold,
instead of iron I will bring silver;
instead of wood, bronze,
instead of stones, iron.

So, just to clarify, for planning purposes: gold & silver yes, wood & stones no. Bronze & iron … (Rereads verse.) Bronze & iron …

A simple “could not connect” would have sufficed.

I was just trying to check my email. 😦

I’m fascinated with etymologies (word origins), and my obsession is only growing with age. More and more often, I’ll hear a word, a phrase, or a name, and just have to know where it came from. And then I’ll go find out.

There are worse hobbies.

So anyway, when Betsy brought home some Häagen-Dazs ice cream recently, I got curious. What kind of a name is Häagen-Dazs? What language is it? What does it mean? Is it a proper name, or a word, or two words, or what?

The Häagen-Dazs Our Story page (which features an oddly sexualized photo that depicts no ice cream) offers the following:

In 1961, Mr. Mattus decided to form a new company dedicated to producing his new super-premium ice cream. He called this new brand “Häagen-Dazs” – a name that conveys an aura of old world tradition and premium quality.

… which is accurate, but also curiously vague. Why did he pick that name? What does it mean?

When you learn the answer, the vagueness is understandable. The name doesn’t mean anything. It’s nonsense. Reuben Mattus — who lived in New York at the time —  just made up nonsense words, one after another, till he came up with some nonsense that conveyed … what was it, again?

Oh yes: “an aura of old world tradition and premium quality.”

Well played, ice cream man, well played.

Me: The news is all about sensationalism, splashy headlines, scandals, and gossip. Give me something real. Something that matters.

News: Okay. There are five million Syrian refugees who —

Me: No, that’s horribly depressing and I haven’t even had coffee yet. I mean, it’s important, but — what else do you have?

News: Six months after Hurricane Maria, hundreds of thousands of Puerto Ricans are still without electricity —

Me: Also horribly depressing.

News: Okay … well, we’ve got new tariffs in place, NAFTA’s future is shaky, and healthcare reform is still a huge open question.

Me: And I’m glad you’re covering that stuff but it’s also really complicated and there’s not much I can do about it. What else?

News: Let’s see. We can talk about immigration reform, border security, examine the problem from diverse viewpoints …

Me: I’m tired of hearing about that.

News: Um. Facebook privacy concerns?

Me: Yeah, trusting Facebook with personal data is like telling Lex Luthor to babysit your kid. This is not a shocking revelation. Next.

News: Famous person who died recently?

Me: Didn’t even care about them when they were alive.

News: Endangered elephants in Africa?

Me: Depressing.

News: Science has found a new technique for achieving happiness?

Me: Probably over-extrapolating from one or two little studies.

News: Brand-new album by a lesser-known artist?

Me: Eh.

News: Trends in fashion?

Me: No.

News: March Madness?

Me: I assume you’re kidding.

News: Well … (deep sigh) White House gossip and stupid Trump tweets?

Me: YESSSSSSSSSSSS

Okay, I’m exaggerating. But still.

“Hey, can you give me an example of a non sequitur?”

“Yeah, it’s like if someone says, ‘I want to visit South Dakota,’ and someone else says, ‘No, let’s go to Nebraska instead.'”

“What? That isn’t a non sequitur.”

“Are you claiming that my response didn’t follow logically from your question?”

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

I was really excited to see that new movie Annihilation, starring Natalie Portman — except apparently not that excited, because the interwebs inform me that it came out a month ago, and I didn’t even know.

Anyway, yesterday I picked up the novel Annihilation that the movie was based on. It’s good so far. It’s also part of a trilogy, which surprised me for some reason. I was thinking that a title like Annihilation is hard to top. Where do you go from there? What do you call books 2 and 3? You’re bound to disappoint. (Indeed, the actual titles — Authority and Acceptance respectively — are a bit of a letdown.)

I was talking to Betsy about all this yesterday, and she quite disagreed with my assessment on sequel titles. In fact, she thought of a perfect title for book 2 in a matter of seconds.

I present it now in its full glory. Are you ready? Prepare yourself, if you dare, for…

You might see something cooler than that today.

But I doubt it.

I was thinking about this a couple weeks ago, for reasons I don’t recall. My first thought was Disney’s Snow White (1937), but after a little quality time with Google, I think the real answer is the original King Kong, which came out in 1933 — back when audible dialogue was still an exciting new development in the cinematic world.

What’s the oldest movie you’ve seen?

Alternate question: If I wanted to break my 1933 record, what film would you recommend? I’ve never seen anything with Charlie Chaplin, any suggestions there?