Amazing that dockworkers are going on strike during a time when most Americans are reeling from inflation. Pure terrorist blckmail doing it during the election.
To quote the motto of the International Garment Pressers Union, "Strike While the Iron is Hot!"
Which made me turn to Wikipedia to determine that Calvin Trillin is thankfully still alive.
One of my uncles briefly knew Trillin, when both were growing up in Kansas City. Both kind of similar looking and similar sense of humor, which in my most woo-woo moments makes me think on how places shape people. It would be fun to seek Trillin out and see if he remembers my uncle, plus another notch on my Odd Penchant for Encounters with Famous People log. The very formal nod from Gorbachev as he departed a restroom remains my favorite, though the giggle from Debra Winger when I muffed my first take as Student on Bicycle in Terms of Endearment was a close second. Lower ranked incidents were my wife introducing a guy named David, backstage at a concert she was playing in Eugene Oregon, and not realizing it was David Ogden Stiers until his fat clammy hand closed over mine and I said, "holy shit" and he chuckled. A deep throaty emphysema chuckle.
Also lower ranking was Alan Ginsberg, mostly from me being nine and having minimal idea who he was until my mother said "show him your poem." I did, he read it, and then laughed so hard his face turned red and tears formed. He really was a kind gentle person.
And then there was Bob Kerry, governor of Nebraska, who was amused to learn I had been his neighbor (a kind of slummy apartment across from the Governor Mansion) and said something about wishing he had kept his blinds drawn. Ya had to be there.
I guess if there's a pattern to be discerned, it's that I was blessed to meet famous people who didn't take things too seriously. I expect Jbottle, if still around, would sacrifice body parts to earn a giggle from Ms Winger.
