parabolic or sky-tree

H and I were in the Taunus recently and afforded a rather close-up view of one of the other-worldly structures, a television tower, that one generally just sees from a great distance and in passing, are usually perched on high, remote promontories like a bucket-brigade of relays.

With satellite cities and other ad hoc methods so prevalent, I wondered if such landmarks were not relics of an older age. I remember being amazing with the installation my uncle assembled in his backyard, to liberate his family from cable television and the paucity of broadcast channels, and though much smaller and subject to some regulation (and with growing alternatives), I thought the trend just continued a-pace.

I was puzzled with the recently finished superlative in Japan, the landmark Tokyo Sky-Tree, a broadcasting tower, and second tallest manmade structure in the world. Being number-one is a very transitive and sometimes subjective thing to achieve, for however long one can hold the title—and it was not a cathedral, after all, one of the more tenacious title-holders. I learned, however, more than just feeding signals to car radios, these towers are still quite functional, thanks in part to an evolving middle-manship when it comes to the airwaves.  Transponders originally rose above the landscape to surmount natural obstacles, but high-rises and the interference from climbing electronic smog create new reasons to take a commanding position.  I am sure such a view of the city below is worth the effort as well.

radiant baby

 This happy child’s chair, I think, is a fitting homage to social activist and artist Keith Haring. There are quite a lot of memorials dedicated to Haring, who passed away in 1990, and his ideas—plus numerous legacies and influences in the world of pop art, music—helping create Madonna’s signature look, painting Grace Jones and designing the set for Solid Gold, and gave us universally recognized symbols of awareness and affirming joy.

I always think about Haring’s artwork on my way out the door, my apartment located above a cash- and-carry (Selbst- abholung) bedding chain. At first, I went a little negative, thinking that the company adopted this distinctive symbol without appreciation but realized that I could be wrong.  I wonder if their choice of logos had anything to do with making a stand or a statement.

snow patrol

Just when we thought the taunting series of reprieves and relieving afternoons of sunny weather signaled the onset of Spring, it started snowing again. It seemed more transfiguring, however, this time after the hopeful breaks in the weather, thinking each blast was one final assertion from a very stubborn and gloomy Winter, a vow to return despite our best efforts to throw Nature out of balance. This last snow-ball fight may be an indication that we are instead taunting the Seasons and more unseasonableness is on order.
This strange ribbon effect traced along the metal flag poles looks like the icing of thaw and a place where the snowflakes can stick. It was not the hoisting strings, like I first thought but I guess the trail of a drip.  I was braving the uncertain weather in search of a flea-market, just on the edge between what’s comfortably reached on foot (though not in this slush) and what might justify the bother of driving (in this slush).
Quite a few others agreed that it was worth dragging out their belongings for this social-hour, under a covered parking-lot. I found a few treasures, including this heavy and solid copper watering can with a narrow spout for the delicate jobs, and this teak glasses rest fashioned like a nose and mouth. I think it’s Danish.

cracker-jack

I’ve always thought that candies, like colas (and more adult beverages too), attain this strange sort of nostalgic immortality and despite insolvency, changing tastes, and increasing competition seem to remain on-offer, even if in a subdued, bottom-shelf sort of way.

Dots, Tab, Shasta, the medleys of grab-bag treats with half-forgotten names can be had with a little intentional departure from the latest fads and reminiscing. I guess I don’t have any such cravings myself but I appreciate the traditions and cult status surely. There were two news items in the past few days that caused me to wonder about our treat icons, mascots, really, apart from whatever chemical concoction is the delivery vehicle. Due to regulation that prohibited the inclusion of “non-nutritive” items within food (and I guessed it was a more recent restriction to protect young children from swallowing their prize inadvertently), German Kinder Überraschung chocolate eggs were considered contraband in the US.

Disa- ppointingly, the product, which side-steps the arcane proscription by designing the eggs to be split apart and isolating the prize inside with a protective membrane so no one could choke on it by accident, is not from the same makers and surely won’t have that Dyson’s Shell made with the same quality. The fact that the American producers include “Choco” as part of their name makes me fear that the quotation marks are deserved. I do wonder what nutritive content might be encased in chocolate, but nonetheless, the carapace is important. The other story concerned the reanimation of the Twinkie planned by Hostess’ successor company. While it is surely hard to keep an incorruptible, indestructible snack off the shelves, I wonder if for even the most avid fans whether this is a positive development, since some experiments in should maybe be allowed to expire gracefully.