If you like concrete, parked cars, and taxiing airplanes, the O’Hare Hilton stands alone.
If you like concrete, parked cars, and taxiing airplanes, the O’Hare Hilton stands alone.
In Columbus, at least, Greek restauranteurs must be an emotional bunch who wear the core elements of their personalities on their shirt sleeves. In the footprint of our fair city, we’ve got dining establishments identified with a Mad Greek, a Crazy Greek, a Simple Greek, and even a Yappy Greek.
Yesterday, though, we were in a good mood at lunchtime, so we ventured to The Happy Greek. It’s a Short North staple that’s been there for decades — which makes it all the more bizarre that I’ve never been inside its doors. But there’s a first time for everything.
The Happy Greek has all the trappings that you’ve come to expect in a Greek restaurant, including wall paintings of happy dancing Greeks and a bar fashioned to look like the Acropolis. (Surprisingly, the proprietor wasn’t outfitted like Socrates.) And, of course, a menu that features lots of salads and other traditional Greek fare.
My theory on a new restaurant is that you first try one of the basics from their menu, and if that is good you then branch out to other options on subsequent visits. Since I don’t eat salad, Greek or otherwise, I went for the lamb pita sandwich with onions, tzatziki sauce, and fries. The sandwich was big, with lots of succulent lamb and fresh pita bread, enjoyably messy to eat with your hands, and very tasty. The fries were a little on the salty side for my taste, but the seasoning did go well when I started to use the fries to mop up stray pools of the tzatziki sauce, which was so good I could have imbibed it by the tumbler. I’ll definitely come back.
And I should add that the people inside were very friendly, too. With a name like The Happy Greek, they’re pretty much required to be, I guess.
Who among us has actually read the “emergency exit plan” on the back of the hotel room door? I’d ask for a show of hands, but it would be embarrassing. The “emergency exit plan” is right up there with mattress tags, airline safety brochures, and iPhone warranty cards in the “least read documents in human history ” category.
Here’s the problem. I could read and thoughtfully digest these instructions in the cool rationality of evening, but if I go to bed and am rudely awakened from a sound sleep by fire alarms and acrid smoke I’m not going to remember any of it. I won’t recall that I’m supposed to call 66 on the land line to alert hotel security, or try to “safely extinguish” any fire myself, or feel the door to determine if it’s hot, place cold wet towels at the base of the door to keep blistering hot smoke from billowing in, and “maintain calm” while awaiting further instructions.
Further instructions? From whom? Mr. Asbestos Man, who can somehow wade through the flames and get to the other side of my blazing metal door to shout instructions at me? Or the concierge, who’ll be calling every one of the hundreds of rooms to give the guests specific instructions calibrated to the individual circumstances? No, I think I’ll just engage in a panicky dash to one of the four stairwells that are supposed to accommodate the throngs of desperate guests trying to escape the flames.
Maybe there’s a reason nobody reads these things.
The U.S. may be ahead of the rest of the world, generally, when it comes to innovation and invention, but Japan always seems to be a little bit ahead of America when it comes to the speed of acceptance and application of newfangled technology.
So it should come as no surprise that the Wall Street Journal has reported that some Japanese TV network will soon employ a robot as a news anchor. People are making a big deal out of it, viewing it as another sign of robots encroaching on previously human jobs — even though this development has been predicted for years.
The robot, named Erica, has been created to resemble a long-haired woman and looks like a Japanese anime character converted to corporeal form. She/it — I guess we’re going to have to get instruction on the politically correct way to refer to a gender-specific robot, eh? — will be equipped with a form of artificial intelligence that will allow her/it to read the news, although the new stories she/it reads will have to be selected by humans. Erica apparently will be the first “android anchor” in the world.
Hey, wait a second! I just realized . . . does this mean that the people who currently read the news on American TV stations aren’t robots? Who would have guessed?
The Cleveland Indians announced today that, as of 2019, they will be removing their racist “Chief Wahoo” logo from the team’s jerseys and caps. The cartoon of the grinning man with a bright red face, big nose, teeth like piano keys, and a feather sticking out of his head has been a lightning rod for criticism for years and, according to reports, was the subject of significant discussion between the team owner and the baseball commissioner leading up to the team’s decision.
It probably is no coincidence, either, that the Indians will host baseball’s All-Star game in 2019.
Having been born in Akron, Ohio and going to Indians’ games since I was a little kid, I grew up with Chief Wahoo — but I think it’s well past time to retire him. He’s an offensive caricature, and the fact that he’s been associated with the team for decades doesn’t change or excuse that. The team has increasingly been moving to the block C, which I think is pretty good, and I like the script Indians logo, too.
Native American activists also are advocating for the team to ditch the name Indians. I have more mixed feelings on that issue. I recognize that the name Indians is an historical anachronism, but I think calling an athletic team by that name is a sign of respect — and I also like the nickname The Tribe, which has a pretty cool, inclusive meaning. We’ll have to see whether getting rid of Chief Wahoo relieves the pressure on the team name, or intensifies it.
I don’t post on Twitter, and “follow” only Richard’s Twitter feed and perhaps one or two more. Twitter is always asking me to follow more people and offering up suggestions about who I might find interesting, but I always delete the suggestions. I don’t have time to “follow” the tweeted musings of dozens of people, and figure I’d spend more time deleting notices of their tweets than actually reading them.
So the statistics that purport to show that tens or hundreds of thousands of people follow the Twitter feed of random celebrities or unknown people whose shtick is simply to react to other social media posts, for example, or that Facebook posts have received thousands of “likes,” astonish me. I shake my head and wonder: How can so many people find time in their days to look at the detritus of social media?
The answer is: maybe they can’t, and actually don’t. And maybe the impressive statistics that supposedly show that they do are filled with fake followers, and fake likes, from fake people.
The New York Times ran an interesting article over the weekend called “The Follower Factory” about how entrepreneurs, governments, and criminals have created entire legions of fakery. Some companies have created thousands of fake, automated accounts and sell them to celebrities and businesses that crave followers and retweets to appear more popular on-line. Facebook recently disclosed that 60 million fake accounts have populated its site, distributing likes and affecting “trend lines” and influencing advertising content. Twitter and other social media platforms also are affected by fake accounts. And when part of the power of social media platforms comes from their claims to have millions of people participating in their platforms, how aggressive and effective are the social media sites themselves going to be in policing the fakery?
The Times story quotes politicians who suggest that perhaps the answer to this is to come up with some kind of government regulatory scheme. To be sure, the government should become involved if the fake accounts cross the line into identity theft. But short of that, why should the government intervene if some pathetic former pro athlete wants to buy fake followers to puff up his social media profile? And if the gullible are going to agree with a tweet because the tweeter has lots of fake followers, rather than because of the substance of the opinion expressed, or advertisers are going to accept fake statistics rather than insist on data that can be verified as reflecting the actions of real people, it seems like that is their own problem. The government has bigger, more important, more concrete things to worry about.
We’d all be better off if people stopped paying attention to followers, and trend lines, and likes, and started to actually think things through themselves.
Once, Baiae was a resort city on the Italian coast for the wealthy patricians of Rome. Then, volcanic activity caused the city to vanish beneath the waves, as the coastline moved inland.
Divers have now located the town, and discovered that much of the artwork — including statues, tile designs, and mosaics — has been preserved beneath the water. Pretty cool! It would be a great place to go for a dive — if my ear drums had not been blown out by prior, ill-fated scuba activity.
Who knows? Maybe there is something to that Atlantis myth.