the smedley log - suburban scrawl

At least they’re not bragging about the copy-editing

From the text of an ad touting Philadelphia Media Holdings’ improved circulation numbers in last Sunday’s Inquirer special business section:

“Critics had said ‘pigs will fly’ before the Inquirer and the Daily News gain circulation. Well, they flew earlier this year and they’re flying again. The Philadelphia Inquirer had it’s largest circulation gain in five years and ranks #1 in daily circulation growth among the top 50 U.S. newspapers. The Daily News has had it’s first circulation gain in nine years. And not to be outdone, philly.com experienced a dramatic 42% growth in pageviews.” [emphasis added]

I’m one of those folks who’s genuinely rooting for the local newspapers to do well, so I should at least commend the Philly papers for improving circulation in a climate increasingly unsympathetic to dead tree journalism. Being familiar with a few of the faces behind the Inquirer and Daily News, I’m truly happy for them.

That said, here’s a brief grammar refresher:

its = possessive form of “it”
it’s = “it is”

Walking man

Posted by mobile phone:
I’ve been hosting my brother-in-law Steve this weekend, for his trip to Philly to run the marathon. As a non-participant, I’ve still managed to cover a good distance on foot since the race began. I’m currently resting (and finally getting some food) at Starbucks at Market and 18th. Just locating a place not mobbed with race watchers has been an adventure.

One unexpected bit of fun arose this morning when, just after dropping Steve off, I discovered a parking spot on Race Street (which I drove down thinking the name of the street might have been a sign).

The space, while incredibly close to the marathon finish line, did pose a challenge to my somewhat rusty city parking skills. I’m even a little proud of myself for squeezing the car in without incident; I may post a picture of it when I post a couple from the marathon itself.

Thanks…

to all the folks who supported me in this past Sunday’s JDRF walk. I walked in Tyler State Park, starting at 10 on Sunday morning, and was finished about 45 minutes later. There was quite a crowd of participants there for the event, and while I apparently didn’t hit my goal, I did better than I expected to when I set out on my little mission.

One price I may have paid for my swift pace up and down many of the park’s scenic hills is a persistent pain in my right foot. I thought it was just sore at first, but I’m starting to wonder why it isn’t feeling any better yet. Hopefully it’s nothing serious, but I should know more when I talk to the doctor tomorrow morning.

A few days to go…

until I walk to cure juvenile diabetes. I wanted to thank all the generous folks who’ve either donated their hard-earned cash, helped spread the word about the effort, decided to walk for the same cause, or simply didn’t think me a shill for soliciting their cash online

It’s all appreciated. This post is just a reminder to those who haven’t contributed but have been meaning to do so. This isn’t to make anyone feel guilty; it’s just to remind a few folks who intended to donate but haven’t gotten around to it yet.

I have a feeling once it’s all said and done and they tally the offline contributions, I may actually hit my goal.

Related links:
JDRF.org
My walk page

A triumph of Goodwill

Yesterday afternoon, after hearing one of my favorite, under-the-radar bands at Starbucks, I went thrift store browsing for a few items I keep hoping to stumble across.

One such item is a good, sturdy, wooden chair to go with the ancient roll-top desk my parents gave me. The desk has been in the family since its creation several generations ago. I was pretty happy to get the desk, and it has become one of my favorite places to sit and write. There must be something about my creative urges that feed off of the character of antique furniture.

As I wandered through the Goodwill store on a Sunday afternoon, finding none of the other items I sought, I saw an old wooden teacher’s chair with a three dollar price tag on it. upon closer inspection, I noticed a small, round, brass plate on the back of the chair signifying its origin as not only American made, but also as being from Philly. Feeling incredibly lucky to have found it, I grabbed it and went straight to the checkout and then home.

So now I have a Philly made chair to couple with my Trenton made desk. A little cleaning and detailing and maybe someday I’ll be able to pass them both on to someone else.

Creativity and generosity

This evening in Philadelphia, my favorite music frontman will collect a little recognition for something non-musical. U2 singer Bono is about to receive the Liberty Medal at the National Constitution Center in a ceremony I wish I could attend (though I absolutely cannot, for a variety of reasons).

The thing that has struck me about Bono’s humanitarian side is how willing he is to tackle huge issues, like third-world health and poverty. There are a few voices in the wilderness who still speak out against his effort, but I prefer those who bite off more than they can chew to those who merely sit in the corner criticizing idealism.

I, myself, am usually somewhere in between.

“Don’t admire people for their wealth, but for the creative and generous ways they put it to use.”
- H. Jackson Browne

A little help?

I’d like to start this all-too-rare blog post by saying to all my friends and co-workers who have been gloating presumptuously over the “demise” of Donovan McNabb: HA!

And then I’d like to ask for your help in a cause that both Donovan and I hold dear, which is defeating diabetes. On October 28, I’ll be taking part in a local walk to raise money for juvenile diabetes awareness and research.

If you happen to know me in real life and want to pass a donation along directly to me please feel free – I promise I won’t keep more than half for myself ;). Otherwise, you can go to my personal fund-raising page by clicking here and donating online. My fund-raising goal will be $500.00 this year. It’s a little on the ambitious side, but I know a lot of generous folks, so I’m aiming high.

Once again, if you’d like to help, get a hold of me in real life or click here. And if you’d like to enroll for one of this fall’s fund-raising walks (or rides), click on over to the JDRF website.

Thanks!

Really, I didn’t have anything better to do

I’m moving – as in physically changing my abode – starting on Tuesday. The upheaval in my life has opened up various opportunities, including changing many address profiles, packing things and transferring or setting up service arrangements.

One change I was contemplating was a switch from traditional phone service and DSL to the much vaunted Comcast Triple Play. So I wandered over to the Comcast website to try to alter my service profile. At a certain point in the process, I was pushed into a chat with one of their distinguished “analysts.” Here’s how it went: [Read more →]

Two century marks in one day

On a glaringly bright Saturday when my car thermometer once again hit triple digits, I found myself in South Philly helping celebrate the hundredth anniversary of my illustrious employer. Of course, I can’t take full credit for a century’s worth of success (only the last twelve years or so).

I only took a couple photos (and worse yet, with my phone’s camera), but I thought I’d post the above picture of a car on which the digital dashboard thermometer was not an option.

While I was away

I’ve been neglecting this site as of late. I’ve even been a bit spotty with the haiku habit. But here’s something I would have mentioned here if I had been attending to the internets over the past couple days: Marisa got a little more pub for her Reading Terminal project in the form of a brief feature on Wednesday’s 11 o’clock news. Pretty cool.

crabs of convenience

if memory serves,
the 11th was the date
of Frank’s arrival.

Dead letter office

Happy Fourth of July to the passersby!

I realized a slow build up of thoughts has been sifting through my mind, things that would otherwise be discarded or forgotten. One thing is my report on the candidates forum at Bright Hope Baptist Church on Monday. Find it by clicking here, if you’re interested.

Then there’s John Oates, (from tonight’s Welcome America headliners, Hall and Oates) who wants to be my friend! Apparently, he’s actually using Twitter and reaching out a bit to the common folks. Of course, I accepted his overture of friendship. I’m not sure if I’m going to attend the festivities in center city tonight, but I was fond of Hall and Oates’ music coming up in the early to mid 80s, so there is a certain ache of nostalgia rumbling through my bones.

Finally, here’s an outtake from the Q&A section of the Chicago Manual of Style Online that was featured in a Harper’s reading from (I believe) the February issue. This one involves the “proper usage” of emoticons, via The Chicago Blog:

Q: Is there any standard for the usage of emoticons? In particular, is there an accepted practice for the use of emoticons that includes an opening or closing parenthesis as the final token within a set of parenthesis? Should I incorporate the emoticon into the closing of the parenthesis (giving a dual purpose to the closing parenthesis, such as in this case :-); simply leave the emoticon up against the closing parenthesis, ignoring the bizarre visual effect of the doubled closing parenthesis (as I am doing here, producing a double-chin effect :-)); or avoid the situation by using a different emoticon (some emoticons are similar :-D), placing the emoticon elsewhere, or doing without it (i.e., reword to avoid awkwardness)?

A: Until academic standards decline enough to accommodate the use of emoticons, I’m afraid CMOS is unlikely to treat their styling, since the manual is aimed primarily at scholarly publications. And the problems you’ve posed in this note have given us added incentive to keep our distance.

The thing that brought the emoticon question to mind is a letter I wrote to someone in the Modern Letter Project a week or so ago. It occurred to me that I don’t feel comfortable using emoticons in handwritten notes. But then how will they know I’m just kidding?

Feeling thankful for the small things today

I meant to post yesterday on the one year anniversary of my daily haiku habit, but I’ve been so preoccupied I forgot. I really thought I would’ve grown tired of them by now. Turns out I’m quite addicted to them (though the qualitative output may vary).

In other news, as I mark the exact moment I entered this world 35 years ago, I should be en route to the Presidential Candidate Forum sponsored by ACORN (Association of Community Organizations for Reform Now). The forum will be held this afternoon, starting at noon, at Bright Hope Baptist Church in North Philly. A gaggle of bloggers, of which I am one, have been allowed to cover the event, though at last check, I’m not sure if they’ll have wi-fi capabilities in the church or not. Still, it should be an interesting way to spend part of my birthday – and I’ll blog about it somewhere (definitely on Philly Future, perhaps here, too), eventually.

Finally, kudos to the first person who can explain the relevance of the title to this post. Of course, I’ll have no way to know if you googled it or not…

Mastering the media

First Scott shows up on CNBC’s Fast Money (regarding his expertise as “the Apple blogger“), then Marisa gets her own feature in Philadelphia Weekly (regarding her Reading Terminal Market project).

There must be something in the water over at Fork You studios that helps people get noticed.

A different kind of manifesto

As recent clouds of thought leave this blog lacking in fresh material, I thought it a good idea to redirect a few of you to an item from one of my regular reads.

Dave Luna, known for his unique brand of hit-and-run blogging (not to mention one of the greatest blog titles in history), has written a couple more verbose entries lately. The competitive writer in me wanted to believe he’d been keeping his posts short to mask some deficiency in his writing skills, but after reading this post about standing on the brink of unemployment, I’m pretty sure that’s not the case.

Bittersweet memories of a sweet spot

When I was a young boy my mother worked the graveyard shift at Frankford Hospital. On non-school nights, when my father would drive her to work from our home in the northeastern suburbs, I would sometimes get to ride along. Sometimes we’d even complete the circuit by having a family breakfast on the way back from picking her up in the morning (there were always great breakfast spots to choose from, like the Tiffany Diner, for instance).

Along the way, I would notice the various buildings lining the roadway. There was the Nabisco factory, which often smelled of the snack cookies they were baking there. The Pepsi-Cola plant was a little further along. And then there was the Whitman Chocolates building.

I had somehow forgotten in the years since that the Whitman Sampler ever came from around here. Back when the Whitman headquarters was still in Northeast Philly, it was one of several prominent landmarks for folks traveling up and down the Roosevelt Boulevard. Now it’s memorialized by a shopping plaza with anchor stores like Wal-Mart and Lowe’s.

Ah, the sweet stench of progress…

unmetered verse

basking in the glow;
ignoring the change-grubbing
monsters of Ludlow.

Tales from the terminal

Lest it slip my mind for even one more day, I want to mention that one of my all-time favorite Philly destinations has finally been immortalized in blog format.

Stories from Reading Terminal Market is a new spot for personal recollections about Philadelphia’s renowned farm market. Marisa McClellan, who’s got a knack for conveying just that sort of story, is the the writer behind it all. You’ll want to check it out. You may even want to reach out and share a story of your own with her.

Click here to check it out.

One week after impact

I appreciate all the people who’ve expressed their sympathies after last week’s auto mishap. Of course, some of the well-wishing emanated from offline contacts of mine, a surprising number of which were folks I didn’t know were reading this site until they shared those wishes.

I’m feeling quite a bit better this week, and I think the worst of the muscle spasms and aches has passed. The car is still awaiting its visit to the auto surgeons, but there’s no desperate hurry.

I attended Marisa’s relatively public birthday celebration last night with many other fascinating folks, a few of whom I didn’t know prior to the big event. It was a lot of fun, even if I was a bit tired throughout most of yesterday.

And this afternoon I’m cleaning, and sneezing, for a few hours before I decide what the rest of the day is going to bring.

Could be a lot worse

“…one shot of perspective,
a couple more to kill the pain.”
- Bill Mallonee

Yesterday was long. In many ways.

It started as a typical Mother’s Day. During its first half, I spent some time with my mother, which was nice. Then I got to see the majority of the Phillies game on TV, though I left before the disappointing finality of it could sink in.

Then I kept myself busy with a variety of small tasks until it was late enough for me to travel to the airport to pick up some girl from a flight that was delayed far too long. After about half an hour standing by the baggage claim carousel, we were on our way.

Let me say that at this point, the day already seemed about twelve hours too long to me. Not that it was a horrible day, but I was hoping it would wind down relatively quickly from there.

Which is why my more cynical self should have suspected what came next. It involved a disabled vehicle in the middle lane of a notorious Philadelphia expressway. Add three other cars having varying degrees of success avoiding said vehicle.

For reasons known only to a little card from the insurance company, I’m not really supposed to discuss it in detail, but suffice it to say, the vehicular skirmish lengthened the interminable day by at least another hour. Thank God it was only an hour, and all injuries appear to have been minimal. The car is damaged, but drivable; for the most part, so am I. I just have to wait for the soreness to subside.

On the bright side, these events took us into the earlier part of today, which just happens to be Marisa’s birthday. Which is a good thing, especially since we made it to this point alive.

It could have been much worse, but I’d still like to think it could get better.