Grand Harmony Restaurant, Chinatown, New York, 12/25/08

Following the Jewish tradition of eating Chinese food on Christmas brings to mind the year that I had the Worst Chinese Food in the World. We were vacationing in the Florida Keys a few years back, spending a couple of nights in each of a few, er,  key spots. On Christmas Eve, we settled in at a B&B in Big Pine Key, and had a great dinner at a nearby seafood restaurant. We spent Christmas day driving around, checking out the various sites on Big Pine and neighboring keys, and by evening we were famished. And in trouble. Big Pine, it turned out, was basically locked down for Christmas, and everything was closed. This was an eventuality that, as big city Jews, we hadn’t anticipated. After driving around for about two hours, and not finding anything at all to eat, we eventually landed in a strip mall that had an open restaurant. A Chinese restaurant. A terrible Chinese restaurant. I don’t remember the name of the place, but I do remember that the food bore about as much resemblance to real Chinese food as a Burger King bagel does to the real product of that name.  We left the restaurant relieved that we weren’t going to starve to death, but aware that the amount of time we had spent circumnavigating the middle keys could have just as easily been spent driving down to Key West, where we could have had a real meal. But it was a reminder of the historical roots of the Chinese Food on Christmas tradition; namely, that there are places where that’s really all that’s open on that day, and if your choices are bad Chinese food or fasting, well, Christmas ain’t Tisha B’av, so the sweet-n-sour something-or-other usually wins out. Thus are traditions—and serious cases of indigestion—born and propagated.

When reporters visit North Korea, they’re usually given a highly restricted itinerary, consisting largely of visits with happy workers, tours of gleaming-but-empty buildings, and lectures about the glory of the Great and Dear Leaders. And, based on this Times report , the latest batch of reporters—who accompanied the New York Philharmonic on its historic visit to the Hermit Kingdom—had to follow the same script. But there was at least one striking lapse on the part of the group’s handlers, during a visit to the country’s National Library:

A librarian said the library had room for 30 million volumes and was 95 percent full. Two-thirds were said to be foreign-language books. The librarian summoned up some books on a conveyor belt and spread them out for the visitors to see. They were mostly computer books: “Electronic Packaging, Microelectronics and Interconnection Dictionary,” and a Windows 95 guide.

Yes, that’s right. Windows 95! If this is what they’re showing off to the press, who knows what’s actually in the rest of those 30 million volumes? Manuals for repairing your ‘46 Packard? The latest on that wacky new disco dancing craze? Suddenly, I’m a lot less worried about the North Korean nuclear program.

This might be old, but I just saw it on a car this morning. Sort of says it all when it comes to manufactured patriotism. And ribbons.

The image on this post was a birthday present from my brother, and it’s certainly a unique one. This ad for the Sony Watchman FD-30A, circa 1985, features none other than yours truly on its simulated screen (you can tell it’s simulated, since it’s a color image, and the FD-30A is a black and white model). How did I end up on the small screen (yes, it’s hard to tell, but trust me, it’s me)? Well, back before marketers got the big idea that they could charge movie companies big bucks to feature their flicks on TV ads, they bought images from stock photo agencies. And my father happened to own one of those agencies. So, for this particular ad, the client chose a picture of me (taken many years earlier, natch), and slapped it up on the ad, giving me some extremely small measure of fame, and the ability to boast, some 22 years later (and nearly 40 years after the actual picture was taken), that I could’ve been a successful child model! Oh, and check the price on the ad. This beauty went for $269 on sale back in ‘85. Adjusting for inflation, that works out to over $500 today. Considering that handheld TVs go for well under $100 today, and $500 can get you a high-end PMP, it’s not surprising that even collectors don’t have a lot of interest in this clunker. Last I checked, you could pick one up for about $30 on eBay. And since those models don’t have my face on them, I’m not about to bid on one.