Eh, ’twas a rough night. For the second time in a month, I was awakened in the wee hours by overwhelming nausea. Considered barfing, didn’t, and eventually it faded enough that I could sleep again. I don’t know what it might be, and don’t plan to worry about it until it happens again. Chances are, I’m fine. You’re always fine, until you aren’t.
Speaking of which: Courage, Moe.
It’s Good Friday, which means nothing much is going on, here or anywhere else. Further, not much will be going on Monday, either — the cities are closed, the schools are closed, etc. I’m all for adequate leisure time, but criminy, some of these folks need to work in newspapers for a while. We got New Year’s, Memorial Day, July 4, Labor Day, Thanksgiving and Christmas off. Excuse me while I chomp my cigar and whine about kids these days.
Fortunately, we have some pretty good bloggage today, starting with our own Coozledad. His gander is up to something with his sheep. Drake, I mean: Akbar Brynwaladrllwnin. Wouldn’t you love to be an animal on Coozledad’s farm? It must be all that late-night singing around the campfire.
I know we’ve talked about Kiryas Joel before here, the ultra-Orthodox Jewish village north of New York City. The NYT did a piece on them this week; on paper, they’re the poorest place in America, although in KJ, things are more complicated than they look on paper:
About 70 percent of the village’s 21,000 residents live in households whose income falls below the federal poverty threshold, according to the Census Bureau. Median family income ($17,929) and per capita income ($4,494) rank lower than any other comparable place in the country. Nearly half of the village’s households reported less than $15,000 in annual income.
About half of the residents receive food stamps, and one-third receive Medicaid benefits and rely on federal vouchers to help pay their housing costs.
Kiryas Joel’s unlikely ranking results largely from religious and cultural factors. Ultra-Orthodox Satmar Hasidic Jews predominate in the village; many of them moved there from Williamsburg, Brooklyn, beginning in the 1970s to accommodate a population that was growing geometrically.
My local pet store is my favorite pet store ever. Clean, sweet-smelling, it’s the sort of place where even the creatures doomed to end up as another’s dinner, like the white mice, look happy and healthy. Lately they’ve added a ringtail lemur, just for the amusement of customers. There’s a house tortoise, Franky, who lumbers around the store as an official greeter. And there’s a large pond in the front, where lives two lunker red-tail catfish, an aropawa and some sort of freshwater ray. One of the catfish got sick a few weeks ago. The video on how they figured out what was wrong with it is worth watching. You can see Franky watching in one of the later scenes.
OK, an appropriately somber Good Friday to all. Remember, tomorrow night is “The Ten Commandments” — Oh Moses, Moses, you stubborn, splendid, adorable fool!
And a good Easter, as well. Think I’ll go read for an hour, until I feel fully human.