JUNE
23, 2026 
THRU-NESS
Is it good or bad to be through?
Bad: The boss fired me, shouting “You're through!”
Bad: My partner broke up with me, saying “We're through.”
Ambiguous: The captives escaped through the hole in the fence.
Ambiguous: I'm using a new credit card for this purchase. I hope it goes through.
Good: I've finished my assigned chores, so I'm through with that task.
Good: During the World Cup's group stage last week, Mexico became the first nation to claim a spot in the Round of 32. The second team through to the knockout round was the United States.
JUNE
21,
2016 
OTHER
ODDBALL DOUBLE-SPACERS
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I insert two spaces between sentences, just like Mrs. Powers taught us back in high school typing class. On old-fashioned typewriters, all the characters were the same width. The big fat pica period took up a tenth of an inch, as much as an “m” or a “w.” Thus, for better readability, we were instructed to end sentences with a period followed by two spaces. Kids today have proportional fonts on their computers, and they’re told one space is sufficient. Some of us older folks simply feel this is wrong, as wrong as ending a sentence with a preposition. Like Mark Evanier wrote a year ago, we don’t care what people consider “correct” nowadays. We continue to type according to the manner up in which we were brought. |
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By the way, I was taught to touch-type. So was Eric D. Snider’s mom. He reports that before going to bed one night, Momma Snider took an Ambien to help her sleep and also sent an e-mail message. But her left hand drifted one key to the right, good became hoof, and the message ended like this:
“Lovr my ambirn though. Hoof nihhy.”
I myself once typed something like that in class. Mrs. Powers remarked, “Well, at least this proves you weren’t looking down at the keys.”
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Another double-space blogger is TV veteran Earl Pomerantz (1945-2020), winner of Emmy awards for The Lily Tomlin Special in 1975 and The Cosby Show in 1984. Twenty months ago, Earl reflected on his early career when his boss rejected his comedy-writing efforts. “It was not that I was attempting to be different or boldly original in these cases. I was simply opaquely ‘out of sync’ with the ‘conventional human reaction.’ Now I was not only not thinking the way the majority of people think — I was also not feeling the way the majority of people feel.” |
I, too, often have atypical reactions.
For example, suppose a couple learns they’re going to have their first baby. Everybody’s gonna jump for joy! When the child is born, no matter whether the news is “It’s a boy” or the exact opposite “It’s a girl,” everybody gushes “How wonderful!”
However, my instinctive response is “How unfortunate! That couple’s carefree days are over. Now they’ll have to forget about themselves and rearrange every waking moment around the needs of an immigrant newly arrived in this country — an annoying, demanding stranger who has no reasoning ability. And no height.”
As
Randy Newman sang,
more or less:
(I couldn’t resist adding a couple of pieces of clip art.)
Anyway, Earl went on: “I have noticed that, even now, I continue to find myself promoting what is the equivalent of the ‘ninth most popular’ opinion concerning certain matters of the day. In this space recently, I have expressed my position on the likes of suicide — ultimately a personal decision — and on spousal abuse involving NFL participants — why be surprised when a man in a violent profession behaves violently when they are off the clock? But not a single ‘professional observer’ has considered these positions worthy enough to include in their widely disseminated public pronouncements.”
Well, Earl, I’m not a professional observer, but in this space I’ll narrowly disseminate your worthy thoughts, including others from last fall:
• “Deflategate” makes us wonder why both football teams can’t use the same properly-inflated ball. Other leagues function that way.
• In personal injury lawsuits, compensatory damages rightly go to the plaintiffs to repay their medical costs or whatever. But where should punitive damages go? Not to the already-compensated plaintiffs, but to the rest of society (the people) like a fine.
• Pete Rose should be in the Hall of Fame, but with a plaque detailing not just his on-field accomplishments but also his later misdeeds that got him banned from baseball.
It all makes sense to me.
JUNE
18,
2016
PARDON
ME?
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The Donald claims to be a Christian, but apparently he neither loves mercy nor walks humbly with his God (Micah 6:8). He has little use for the concept of contrition. Mark Evanier remarks, “There are people who believe that never admitting you're wrong is the same thing as being right.”
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Trump opposes not only asking for forgiveness but also granting forgiveness. Rather than pardoning Americans who came to this country illegally, he would arrest all 11 million of them and send them back to Mexico or wherever. Roy Cohn (far right), his lawyer and confidant starting in the 1970s, taught him key tactics of aggressive litigation and a “never apologize, always counterattack” approach. |
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Ten years ago I wrote a piece pretending to be a college student who’s similarly heartless — and similarly clueless about what Jesus said. “Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.” It’s this month’s 100 Moons article. |
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JUNE
16, 2026 In the NATO phonetic alphabet (“Alfa Bravo Charlie”), the tenth letter is Juliett. Supposedly when an aviator says that name over his radio, it will be interpreted as J by all speakers of Western European languages. An exception: Italian speakers who hear the name perceive it as Giulietta, which begins with a G. I suppose that Shakespeare, in his tragedy that begins “in fair Verona, where we lay our scene," ought to have titled the play Romeo e Giulietta. That would be pronounced roh-MEH-oh eh joo-LYET-tah. But in the epilogue to Henry VIII, he confessed to 10:1 odds against getting unanimously good reviews. |
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‘Tis
ten to one this play can never please |
Nay, I fear |
Please clap. Over and out.
JUNE
13,
2016
CUP
CROWDS
The
puck bounced my way! One, my local team won another title for
the City of Champions; two, I was able to avoid the celebrating mob.
Last night the Pittsburgh Penguins clinched the National Hockey League’s Stanley Cup by winning Game 6 in San Jose. Had they lost, the series would have been tied at three games apiece, forcing a deciding Game 7 to be played back here in Pittsburgh on Wednesday. And my presence would have been required.
The playoffs consist of four best-of-seven rounds. This year they provided me with employment for eight nights plus a “set day,” which is more than usual.
Two long months ago, the Rangers opened the first round in Pittsburgh, and I was in a mobile unit as the Madison Square Garden Network’s graphics operator. Then I moved inside the building, where a control room way up on Level 7 sends pictures to the video screen (or “jumbotron”) suspended over the ice far below.
The photo above is by technical director Mike Kendlick. I was behind a keyboard for one game against the Capitals and three against the Lightning.
Following the Pens’ overtime win on May 4, Edward Coll shot this picture above from atop a garage on the corner of Fifth Avenue. I would have been in the crowd of gold-shirted folks in the lower right, waiting to cross Washington Place and retrieve my car from the garage.
But do you think that’s a “crowd”? That’s nothing.
As the playoffs heated up, the Penguins were in position to win the Cup if they could beat the Sharks in the final round. Many more media types than usual converged on Pittsburgh for the Final, and the league arranged many more accommodations for them. Once again I was inside a truck in the TV compound, this time working Games 1, 2, and 5 for NHL International. Our pictures were fed to broadcasters in China, Finland, and other countries around the world.
My coordinator John Vivirito and I were puzzled whilst preparing for Game 5. As far back as we can remember, our statisticians have been giving us power play stats like this: “Tonight, the Penguins are 2 for 4 with 7 shots,” meaning that they had 4 power play opportunities, during which they put 7 shots on goal, 2 of which went in the net. We wanted to type up the series stats. It was easy to find out that the Penguins were 1 for 8. With how many shots? No one knew. That number wasn’t in the stats summary, nor was it reported in the four individual box scores. Has the NHL stopped keeping track of power play shots? Why were we not informed?
Perhaps the championship would be won in Game 5. Everybody in town wanted to be there when history was made. The average price for a ticket sold on the secondary market reached $1,631, according to SeatGeek. StubHub’s cheapest seat was over $1,400.
Even at those prices, the building was filled with 18,680 fans, a Consol Energy Center record. [The building would be renamed PPG Paints Arena less than four months later, as strugglng Consol Energy sold its naming rights.] There appeared to be an equal number outside, spilling into the streets. Just before puck drop, Angel Johnson took this picture of her monitor in the control room.
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A big video screen along Fifth Avenue enabled at least some of those without tickets to watch the game. The back of it is seen here from Duquesne University’s Power Center. Jacob Klinger of PennLive wrote that fans on the steps of Epiphany Catholic Church, the red brick building in the background, “had to peer through several trees just to see the big screen TV. Those in front of them on the grass looked through two glass walls at the corner of the arena, their views obstructed by the panels of the windows. Some couldn't tell what score it was without asking those around them.” There were so many people on the streets that the city brought in a second giant screen and set it up in Market Square, two-thirds of a mile away. |
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I wondered how I would be able to get to my car after the game. If the home team won, the jubilant spectators inside the building would stream out to join the screaming mob outside. A huge rowdy throng would celebrate the win. The police had announced they wouldn’t try to stop the merriment at first. They would wait 90 minutes before moving in to urge people off the streets. But traffic would take a long time to clear out, and there would be drunks.
Many of the departing drivers would be joyfully tooting their horns three times, for the standard chant of the Penguins fan, “Let’s! Go! Pens!” Usually in the third period, somebody in the arena repeatedly blasts an air horn three times, and the crowd joins in. The same three notes are used for an alternate chant, “H! B! K!”, honoring the “HBK Line” of Carl Hagelin, Nick Bonino, and Phil Kessel. And over at PNC Park, every time a TV camera finds Pirates fans they respond with the same three notes, except over there it’s “Let’s! Go! Bucs!” I’m getting tired of these three notes. At least the standard football chant has some rhythm and melody to it: “Here we go, Steelers, here we go!”
As it turned out, however, the Cup was not clinched on Thursday. Even before the Pens allowed an empty-net goal that sealed their loss, disappointed fans outside started to drift away, hoping to beat traffic. The police were able to reopen one of the lanes on Washington Place. When I crossed it half an hour after the game, it looked like this Twitter photo. Most of the people were gone, leaving only a layer of trash like the aftermath of a Kenny Chesney concert.
I exited the garage onto Fifth Avenue, and after only a couple of blocks of traffic, it was smooth driving all the way to my suburban apartment.
Had the Pens lost on the West Coast last night, they would have returned to Pittsburgh for Game 7, and the throngs also would have returned. But they won! The Penguins are Stanley Cup champions for the fourth time! And though there may be celebrations in the ’Burgh, I can continue to enjoy domestic tranquility in the ’burbs!
JUNE
10, 2026 SEDUCTION
STORY
I was looking out the window of my house one day and saw a simpleminded lad, a young man lacking common sense, walking at twilight down the street to the house of this wayward girl, a prostitute.
She approached him, saucy and pert, and dressed seductively. She was the brash, coarse type, seen often in the streets and markets, soliciting at every corner for men to be her lovers.
She put her arms around him and kissed him, and with a saucy look she said, "I was just coming to look for you and here you are! Come home with me, and I'll fix you a wonderful dinner, and after that — well, my bed is spread with lovely, colored sheets of finest linen imported from Egypt, perfumed with myrrh, aloes, and cinnamon. Come on, let's take our fill of love until morning. My husband is away on a long trip. He has taken a wallet full of money with him and won't return for several days."
So she seduced him with her pretty speech, her coaxing and her wheedling, until he yielded to her. He couldn't resist her flattery. He followed her as an ox going to the butcher or as an antelope bounding into a noose.
Listen to me, young men. Do not let your desires get out of hand. Don't let yourself think about her. Don't go near her. Stay away from where she walks, lest she tempt you and seduce you. A vast host of men have been her victims. If you want to find the road to hell, look for her house.
Well, no, I didn't actually observe this PG-13 rated incident. Believe it or not, the racy story comes from Holy Scripture! Apparently the Lord was looking out His window when He observed the simple-minded youth.
This portion of the Word of God is found in chapter 7 of the book of Proverbs, mostly the Living Bible translation. At least this Biblical tale is not as violent as the rape and murder episode in 2 Samuel 13.
By the way, you might already know all of this if you've read the Bible from cover to cover.
I have. Twice.
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My grandparents gave me a King James edition on my seventh birthday in 1954. Despite the archaic language, it's a deluxe edition with maps, timelines, archaeological photographs, a concordance, and even my name on the cover. I gave myself an assignment. Starting from Creation, I read four chapters every evening from January 1 through October 25, 1961, noting my accomplishment on the flyleaf. While that project was under way, my fourteenth birthday came along, and my parents gave me a modern Revised Standard Version. I read that volume the next year, from March 9 through December 31, 1962. |
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I have not succumbed to the temptations depicted therein. Following the Proverbial advice, I have not let my desires get out of hand.
JUNE
7, 2026 ARC
DE LA LIBERTÉ
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You've heard that President Donald J. Trump wants to boast of the nation's 250th birthday by erecting a giant 250-foot triumphal arch next to the Potomac River. We do things more modestly here in Western Pennsylvania. On Memorial Day in Tarentum Riverview Memorial Park, just down the hill from my apartment, my state senator Lindsey M. Williams joined in the observance at this arch next to the Allegheny River.
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In other news, the President's Friday idea for remodeling Washington is a walkway allowing pedestrians to “promenade” over roadways that separate the Lincoln Memorial from the Potomac.
Then yesterday, as a holder of the prestigious Bachelor's degree in physics from a liberal arts college, I received an alert from the Union of Concerned Scientists. It seems that
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“the Trump administration's Office of Management and Budget (OMB) is proposing that political appointees should decide who receives all federal research grant awards. “Not peer review panels or experts, but political appointees — with no scientific background or expertise — would judge the merit of research proposals, override decisions by subject matter experts, and interfere with federal funding that doesn't conform to presidential priorities. “This rule is an escalation of the Trump administration's relentless attacks on science and evidence-based policymaking in every policy domain.” |
We're invited to submit a public comment on this proposed rule if we agree that funding for research shouldn't be withheld for fear that it might uncover facts in conflict with one of the administration's “prohibited topics.”
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JUNE
4, 2026 Hi! I'm Robin. I suppose you could say I'm a friend of Mr. Thomas, who runs this website. We met last year. We exchanged cheeps. That May, my wife at the time had discovered a nest that had been conveniently left for us atop my friend's porch light. It's indicated below by the yellow arrow, next to the door to his apartment, where it had been for several years. We decided we could remodel this nest and use it to start a family. Technically it would have been illegal to remove it, because the Migratory Bird Treaty Act of 1918 protects more than a thousand species and their nests. |
Then this year, I returned with my new wife Turdys. (No, she's not a “turd.” Our scientific name is Turdus migratorius.) The nest was still there, and she was excited to see it. She immediately began to spruce it up with some new dry grass.
It was only April and we had only just returned to the North, so I told her it was too early to lay eggs. Mr. Thomas says the temperature was often below freezing: 26° on the morning of April 8, and 29° on April 20. But Turdys couldn't wait. She laid three beautiful blue eggs and began incubating them so they would hatch.
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This picture from Facebook shows a different robin mother. Our nest is seven feet above the floor of the porch. To actually look down into it and admire the eggs, Mr. Thomas would have to be as tall as Victor Wembanyama. He is not. |
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However, some of our robin relatives southwest of Kansas City weren't very smart. This spring they built a nest in a similar sheltered area at a height of only three feet — on top of a tire in the spacious wheel well of a big Ford pickup. They chose a 2026 F-250 King Ranch model that was being sold for $93,000 by Olathe Ford Lincoln. Until the youngers hatch and leave the nest, the customer will have to wait to take delivery. |
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Back here in Pennsylvania, Turdys and I were also awaiting delivery.
If I saw Mr. Thomas on the porch, my instincts perceived him as a threat. I immediately flew toward him, screaming as loud as I could. If I had been hunting worms under the nearby tree, I came running across the lawn. A couple of times, Turdys also left the nest to join me in flapping and yelling. But Mr. Thomas didn't seem frightened. He just went about his business, getting in his car that was parked nearby and driving away.
But then on April 27, we learned that the cold weather had prevented a blessed event.
This is not unusual. On average, only 40 percent of robin nests successfully produce young.
April 27 was also the morning that a man fired up a riding lawn mower for the first pass of the season. I've never heard an engine roar so loud, and it passed right next to the porch.
Turdys gave up. She flew off to find another mate, perhaps in a quieter wooded area near Little Bull Creek a thousand feet to the north.
I hung around for a while. One day Mr. Thomas noticed a tiny chick skeleton on the sidewalk. Another time I saw him sitting in his car. We recognized each other, and I trotted over to get a closer look and say hello. But there was no screaming. There was no longer a need to scare him away.
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JUNE
1, 2026 I still stubbornly use cash to pay my bill at most sit-down restaurants, including Elderton's Thee Log Cabin. Returning home from lunch the other day, I retrieved my change from my pocket and accidentally dropped one of the coins onto the kitchen floor. “Ting.” Without looking, I identified the sound as a dime. I was correct. Should I be proud of this ability? |
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On the other hand, to keep track of transactions I no longer use a paper check register and a pen, the way I was taught in school. Many years ago I switched to an Excel spreadsheet.
Today is the first of June in the year 2026. There are various formats in which today's date can be entered into a single spreadsheet cell, including 1/6/2026, 1/6/26, 2026-06-01, and many others. I've decided to use 26.06.01 because it can be sorted into chronological order and it's easy to read and type. Tthe unobtrusive period is right there on the keypad. Should I be proud of my choice?
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