So how are we doing surrounded by the blazes that are pummeling the California mountains? We're not suffering as the victims are, we're just feeling vaguely miserable. The air has been full of smoke and a fetid miasma for about six days now, and while the heat has backed off a little bit - it's high 80s instead of 90s - we were trying to keep the house closed up for a while despite the resulting lack of chances to cool it off. But eventually the smell got in the house anyway, so we gave up.
I'm trying to keep track of the exact geographic locations of the fires, but it's not easy. Newspaper articles sometimes give links to official fire maps, so I bookmark those, but they're not always updated, and since there's nothing intuitive about the URLs, I can't hunt for a more recent one that way, and search engines are no help at all. The state fire site evacuation zone list is less up to date than the newspapers, and has no useful maps. Nor are the newspaper articles always a help: a photo of a house burning in Boulder Creek gave its location as the intersection of two streets which are at the far opposite sides of town, so I don't know where it is.
There appears to be slow progress in containing the fires, aided in the coastside case by slightly foggier weather, but another tropical storm passing through yesterday and today may bring more lightning, which is what set off the fires in the first place a week ago. However, at least last week's powerful thunderstorm was not replicated last night. But the real fire season in California is October and November (Paradise burned on November 8), and I wonder what will happen then.
Meanwhile, I feel even more cooped up than I had previously during the pandemic, despite actually getting out. A minor but urgent medical situation got me into the Kaiser facility for the first time since before the shutdown. It was fairly empty and a little spooky, including my first elevator ride in at least six months. (Signs said, limit of 2 people in an elevator.) Another thing I experienced here is that the difficulty of hearing through masks can put real difficulties in communication. I have more visits ahead of me, and my doctor wants this finished before October, which is also when flu season starts.
Somewhat earlier, I decided to take another virus test. The county has decided to eliminate the walkups that make you stand in line for three hours, as I did the last time, and moved to an online appointment system. Stations are open for 3 days and appointments are taken for a couple days before that. I found one open for the next three days, and while all the slots for the first day had been taken, there were still plenty for the other days. It was a drive-through located in the parking lot of the county fairgrounds. You pull up, lower your window, they scan your appointment barcode, then you lower your mask and they swab your nose (swirling around the lower nostril again - I still haven't experienced the way-up-the-nose version that I'd earlier read was obligatory) while you sit in the car. The e-mail assuring me I was OK came so heavily encrypted I almost couldn't open it.
Flu shots this year are going to be drive-through too, my doctor says.
Kalimac's corner: a journal by DB
Monday, August 24, 2020
Sunday, August 23, 2020
Democrats, day 4
I didn't see all of this, for various reasons. I didn't see the 13-year-old stutterer, who is said to have been inspiring. I didn't see the opening, which resulted in my walking in to the tv room in the middle of one of Julia Louis-Dreyfus's monologues and not recognizing her, because I hadn't seen her since Seinfeld went off the air. I didn't think too highly of her lame jokes, like attempting to mispronounce "Mike Pence," not in the context of all the inspiring stuff elsewhere in the show.
Stuff like: Lots of ex-rivals telling us what's good about Biden, most effectively and believably from Bernie Sanders. Lots of stories about Biden phoning people out of the blue, or taking half an hour to talk to some random citizen he just met. (If he does things like this all the time, as implied, he wouldn't have time to get anything else done.) So many tributes to Beau Biden and John Lewis, it was as if they were the stars of the show. The award for worst failed attempt to be inspiring goes to the young couple who quizzed their little girls about current events for an agonizingly extended period of time. Sometimes, "mouth of babes" is not a guarantor of wisdom.
Biden's speech was the usual aspirational stuff about how he wants to be president of all the people. Does that ever work? At the end, the mockup of the big cheering crowds at other conventions took the form of Joe and Kamala and spouses waving in the usual fashion at a video wall. Then they walked out into a drive-in theater full of cars that were honking; I'd hate to be a neighbor to that theater, especially as it must have been 11 pm where they were.
Stuff like: Lots of ex-rivals telling us what's good about Biden, most effectively and believably from Bernie Sanders. Lots of stories about Biden phoning people out of the blue, or taking half an hour to talk to some random citizen he just met. (If he does things like this all the time, as implied, he wouldn't have time to get anything else done.) So many tributes to Beau Biden and John Lewis, it was as if they were the stars of the show. The award for worst failed attempt to be inspiring goes to the young couple who quizzed their little girls about current events for an agonizingly extended period of time. Sometimes, "mouth of babes" is not a guarantor of wisdom.
Biden's speech was the usual aspirational stuff about how he wants to be president of all the people. Does that ever work? At the end, the mockup of the big cheering crowds at other conventions took the form of Joe and Kamala and spouses waving in the usual fashion at a video wall. Then they walked out into a drive-in theater full of cars that were honking; I'd hate to be a neighbor to that theater, especially as it must have been 11 pm where they were.
Thursday, August 20, 2020
fires
The brush fires I previously mentioned, ignited over last weekend by lightning strikes, have turned into massive mountain-fire conflagrations. The town of Boulder Creek, which I visited on Sunday, was put under mandatory evacuation on Tuesday, and while at last report the town hadn't burned yet, the buildings at the redwoods state park just up the road from it had. Evacuations have now extended to nearly half the county, albeit the more wooded and less heavily settled half.
Over here in the valley on the other side of the mountains, the air has been smoky and murky for the last couple of days. The fire hasn't crossed the mountain crest, but it's completely uncontrolled due to the hot dry weather and the overextension of firefighting needs in lots of other similar fires elsewhere in the area. We're closer to the near edge of the fire than the far edge on the other side is.
If the fire does go over the mountain, could it then extend down into the urban flatlands which we're about 2 miles from the foothills edge of? That's happened a few times - it happened in the big Santa Rosa fire a couple years ago - and the magnitude here is unprecedented. And if an evacuation order is issued, how will people get out of this dense urban area, and where will they go? Still, when I go out in a bit for a little necessary grocery shopping prior to our regular pickup order, I think I'll fill up my car's fuel tank.
Over here in the valley on the other side of the mountains, the air has been smoky and murky for the last couple of days. The fire hasn't crossed the mountain crest, but it's completely uncontrolled due to the hot dry weather and the overextension of firefighting needs in lots of other similar fires elsewhere in the area. We're closer to the near edge of the fire than the far edge on the other side is.
If the fire does go over the mountain, could it then extend down into the urban flatlands which we're about 2 miles from the foothills edge of? That's happened a few times - it happened in the big Santa Rosa fire a couple years ago - and the magnitude here is unprecedented. And if an evacuation order is issued, how will people get out of this dense urban area, and where will they go? Still, when I go out in a bit for a little necessary grocery shopping prior to our regular pickup order, I think I'll fill up my car's fuel tank.
Wednesday, August 19, 2020
Democrats, day 3
To an extent this was the day of ordinary people battered by circumstances. There were victims of gun violence, headlined by Gabby Giffords. There were small businesspeople trying to make it through the virus shutdown. Most daringly, there were families being torn apart by deportation of their undocumented immigrant members. Although one article calls this the most gut-wrenching part of the evening, there are those who don't think adult undocumented immigrants deserve any sympathy at all, no matter what their circumstances, so I call this feature daring.
The chair declared Kamala Harris nominated for VP by default, because there were no other nominees. I'd wondered how they were going to handle that. Go through the whole roll call again? Surely Rhode Island wasn't going to cook up another plate of calamari.
After that, the nominee's speech was a well-crafted piece focused on the upbringing she owes to her mother, with a relative minimum of biting DT. More biting had come from Barack Obama earlier - normally ex-presidents aren't that hard on their immediate successors, but as Obama said, these aren't normal times - but he framed his speech largely aspirationally. This, I think, is necessary: if you're going to criticize the US for not meeting ideal standards, it's necessary, if one is to avoid complete cynicism, to observe that the Constitution points to those standards and provides a road for us to get closer there.
Plenty of other good speeches by great women of the likes of Nancy Pelosi, Elizabeth Warren ("There's nothing I love better than a good plan. And Joe Biden has lots of good plans"), and, sigh, Hillary Clinton, looking much older than she did four years ago, but not as much older as she'd look if she were President, that's for sure.
The meager applause and cheering after Harris's speech worked a little better than the nomination one last night.
The music was pretty good. I could have lived without Billie Eilish, whom as I wrote once before just makes me want to re-listen to Tori Amos instead, but it wasn't terrible. I liked the guy who sang "Stand by Me" bilingually. The jazz song at the end was quite good: the singer kept the foundations of the song and built ornaments on top instead of tearing the whole thing apart as jazz singers usually do; and I really liked the piano accompaniment. The introduction of Kamala Harris by her sister, niece, and stepdaughter was backed by what sounded incongruously like the love theme from Inception, and if you remember that movie you'll know why it'd be incongruous.
The chair declared Kamala Harris nominated for VP by default, because there were no other nominees. I'd wondered how they were going to handle that. Go through the whole roll call again? Surely Rhode Island wasn't going to cook up another plate of calamari.
After that, the nominee's speech was a well-crafted piece focused on the upbringing she owes to her mother, with a relative minimum of biting DT. More biting had come from Barack Obama earlier - normally ex-presidents aren't that hard on their immediate successors, but as Obama said, these aren't normal times - but he framed his speech largely aspirationally. This, I think, is necessary: if you're going to criticize the US for not meeting ideal standards, it's necessary, if one is to avoid complete cynicism, to observe that the Constitution points to those standards and provides a road for us to get closer there.
Plenty of other good speeches by great women of the likes of Nancy Pelosi, Elizabeth Warren ("There's nothing I love better than a good plan. And Joe Biden has lots of good plans"), and, sigh, Hillary Clinton, looking much older than she did four years ago, but not as much older as she'd look if she were President, that's for sure.
The meager applause and cheering after Harris's speech worked a little better than the nomination one last night.
The music was pretty good. I could have lived without Billie Eilish, whom as I wrote once before just makes me want to re-listen to Tori Amos instead, but it wasn't terrible. I liked the guy who sang "Stand by Me" bilingually. The jazz song at the end was quite good: the singer kept the foundations of the song and built ornaments on top instead of tearing the whole thing apart as jazz singers usually do; and I really liked the piano accompaniment. The introduction of Kamala Harris by her sister, niece, and stepdaughter was backed by what sounded incongruously like the love theme from Inception, and if you remember that movie you'll know why it'd be incongruous.
incidentals
On Tuesday I headed out in search of coolth again. This time I decided to try one of the county's designated cooling centers, mostly in community centers and such, and picked one in a nearby town's library because I knew where it was. Local libraries are still closed to the public except for pickup of books reserved online, but I was kind of hoping that those of us in search of coolth would be allowed free range of the stacks, but no luck: the cooling center was the library's multipurpose room reached from a side entrance. Good thing, then, that I'd brought my own book to read, but I needn't have brought my own water bottle because they had a supply of those.
What I was afraid was that the center would be full, but it wasn't: there were only four other people there when I arrived at 1 pm when it opened; when I left at 3:30 there were about 15 and it still wasn't full. However, I decided to leave at that point, instead of half an hour later, because some of the new entrants decided to sit closer to me than I was comfortable with.
I used my extra half hour (before I needed to get home and start dinner so that it'd be ready when the evening's speechifying began) to shop at a bulk discount market, where I got into a very strange discussion with the checkout clerk. I'd bought a package of Tillamook Country Smoker sausage sticks, which are my favorite brand, and he asked about that, and was surprised when I said it's not the same company as the Tillamook that makes cheese and ice cream. He thought you couldn't have two companies with the same name. I said no; trademarks only apply to the line of business that you're in, and I know they're separate companies because I've visited both in the Oregon town they're named for. Having heard him discussing rock music with the previous customer, I said it was like Apple Records and Apple Computer, which stayed out of each other's way until the latter entered the music business, and then they had to work it out. But he was convinced that Apple Records dissolved when the Beatles did. If only I'd been able to look it up online on the spot, but by this time we'd passed handling the groceries and I ought to let the next person in line in.
On returning to my computer that evening, I found that the Oregon Shakespeare Festival had put online for members only a recording of another of their plays that had had a brief run in March before everything closed: this one was called Peter and the Starcatcher, supposedly the backstory to Peter Pan. I couldn't say, because when I started watching it I only got about halfway through Act 1 before giving up. It was tedious and, like their The Cooper Children, full of spoken expository lumps unfolding great wads of plot and needlessly describing things you could see happening simultaneously on stage. Though supposed to be hilariously funny, it was devoid of anything actually amusing - even though it wasn't written by Terry Pratchett - and, to top it off, it made more mistakes about the nomenclature of British nobility than I had ever previously seen packed into one sentence. Not having any idea how the word "Lord" is used is typical enough, but thinking that lords are created by knighting them is a new one on me.
What I was afraid was that the center would be full, but it wasn't: there were only four other people there when I arrived at 1 pm when it opened; when I left at 3:30 there were about 15 and it still wasn't full. However, I decided to leave at that point, instead of half an hour later, because some of the new entrants decided to sit closer to me than I was comfortable with.
I used my extra half hour (before I needed to get home and start dinner so that it'd be ready when the evening's speechifying began) to shop at a bulk discount market, where I got into a very strange discussion with the checkout clerk. I'd bought a package of Tillamook Country Smoker sausage sticks, which are my favorite brand, and he asked about that, and was surprised when I said it's not the same company as the Tillamook that makes cheese and ice cream. He thought you couldn't have two companies with the same name. I said no; trademarks only apply to the line of business that you're in, and I know they're separate companies because I've visited both in the Oregon town they're named for. Having heard him discussing rock music with the previous customer, I said it was like Apple Records and Apple Computer, which stayed out of each other's way until the latter entered the music business, and then they had to work it out. But he was convinced that Apple Records dissolved when the Beatles did. If only I'd been able to look it up online on the spot, but by this time we'd passed handling the groceries and I ought to let the next person in line in.
On returning to my computer that evening, I found that the Oregon Shakespeare Festival had put online for members only a recording of another of their plays that had had a brief run in March before everything closed: this one was called Peter and the Starcatcher, supposedly the backstory to Peter Pan. I couldn't say, because when I started watching it I only got about halfway through Act 1 before giving up. It was tedious and, like their The Cooper Children, full of spoken expository lumps unfolding great wads of plot and needlessly describing things you could see happening simultaneously on stage. Though supposed to be hilariously funny, it was devoid of anything actually amusing - even though it wasn't written by Terry Pratchett - and, to top it off, it made more mistakes about the nomenclature of British nobility than I had ever previously seen packed into one sentence. Not having any idea how the word "Lord" is used is typical enough, but thinking that lords are created by knighting them is a new one on me.
Tuesday, August 18, 2020
Democrats, day 2
The part I was wondering about was the roll call vote. I shouldn't have worried. The same party activist/flunkies who usually announce their states' votes simply appeared with their states' party standards planted usually in some scenic spot, gave their brief puffery, and then announced the votes for Sanders and for Biden in almost exactly the same wording. (Some of them said "the next president of these United States." Why, are there some other United States?) You could usually tell which ones were live by whether it was night outside in them. The sequence went by quickly and the variety was entertaining. The nomination victory celebration afterwards, unfortunately, was small and tinny, more so than I think was absolutely necessary.
The opening keynote was delivered by a raft of young elected officials trading off one phrase at a time each. Energetic but exhausting. Some of them made surprise revelations of themselves as gay. I suspect some viewers might be viscerally repelled by that, but if so, they're bigots.
Somewhere in there also, Rosalyn and Jimmy Carter, in that order, without being visible on video, spoke slowly. Then Bill Clinton spoke both slowly and hoarsely. The final speaker of the evening was Jill Biden, who belied her introductory clip program full of crisp vigor by speaking ... even ... more ... slowly. By this point, Tybalt playing with a catnip bag toy was more interesting to watch as well as cuter.
Substantive content of the whole seemed to be about 30% praise of Biden, 50% denunciation of Trump, and 20% exhortations to text this to that. It felt too much like an infomercial.
The opening keynote was delivered by a raft of young elected officials trading off one phrase at a time each. Energetic but exhausting. Some of them made surprise revelations of themselves as gay. I suspect some viewers might be viscerally repelled by that, but if so, they're bigots.
Somewhere in there also, Rosalyn and Jimmy Carter, in that order, without being visible on video, spoke slowly. Then Bill Clinton spoke both slowly and hoarsely. The final speaker of the evening was Jill Biden, who belied her introductory clip program full of crisp vigor by speaking ... even ... more ... slowly. By this point, Tybalt playing with a catnip bag toy was more interesting to watch as well as cuter.
Substantive content of the whole seemed to be about 30% praise of Biden, 50% denunciation of Trump, and 20% exhortations to text this to that. It felt too much like an infomercial.
Monday, August 17, 2020
Democrats, day 1
A political convention made up entirely of live feeds and video clips turns out not to feel all that different from one taking place in a big hall, mostly because the same kind of speeches were being made. At the cost of a few glitches in the feed, we avoided all the pfumpfing between speakers that you normally get, and were able to add things like torrents of clips from cell phone videos of ordinary people saying a few words (for one of which they were all Republicans for Biden - a nice touch). The speakers didn't seem fazed by the absence of applause after their applause lines, and a few of the speeches were punctuated by being followed by screen shots full of ordinary people applauding (or, occasionally, not applauding - rather weird).
There was an MC, but Bernie Sanders wasn't introduced: he just appeared, almost unrecognizable in a natty blue suit and a fresh haircut, to talk about policy specifics. His best laugh line: "Nero fiddled while Rome burned. Trump golfs." Michelle Obama talked about public values and empathy. She didn't say, "This is not who we are," she said "This is not who we want to be," which has the advantage of being more accurate. Her best line: "Being President doesn't change who you are. It reveals who you are," which of course took my thoughts back to Lord Acton and to the more perceptive Anglo-Saxon proverbs cited by Tom Shippey.
I was pleased by the small phalanx of black woman officeholders who appeared near the beginning, by the intercut group testimonials to Biden by some of his primary opponents (no Buttigieg, which was a surprise, and no Gabbard, which wasn't), and particularly the section on Covid. Andrew Cuomo, whom I hadn't seen speak before, had an echo of his father's lofty eloquence, but the real star, the Khizr Khan of the evening, was a young woman named Kristin Urquiza, who delivered a fiery account of how her father, a Trump supporter, believed it when the Republicans said it was OK to go out and socialize, went out and socialized, and promptly contacted the virus and died. Most fiery line: "His only pre-existing condition was trusting Donald Trump, and for that he paid with his life." Wow.
A couple musical interludes. Maggie Rogers sang a dull song, but did so in the mannered folksinger style that I enjoy. Billy Porter sort of lost his way near the end of "For What It's Worth" (a highly relevant song today, since it's about cops breaking up a peaceful demonstration), but it was mostly OK.
One thing that did nag at me was the repeated declarations that Biden would unite us, while Trump only divides us. That may be true, but the last candidate to say, "I'm a uniter, not a divider," was George W. Bush, and remember what happened to him. I'd rather not be reminded.
There was an MC, but Bernie Sanders wasn't introduced: he just appeared, almost unrecognizable in a natty blue suit and a fresh haircut, to talk about policy specifics. His best laugh line: "Nero fiddled while Rome burned. Trump golfs." Michelle Obama talked about public values and empathy. She didn't say, "This is not who we are," she said "This is not who we want to be," which has the advantage of being more accurate. Her best line: "Being President doesn't change who you are. It reveals who you are," which of course took my thoughts back to Lord Acton and to the more perceptive Anglo-Saxon proverbs cited by Tom Shippey.
I was pleased by the small phalanx of black woman officeholders who appeared near the beginning, by the intercut group testimonials to Biden by some of his primary opponents (no Buttigieg, which was a surprise, and no Gabbard, which wasn't), and particularly the section on Covid. Andrew Cuomo, whom I hadn't seen speak before, had an echo of his father's lofty eloquence, but the real star, the Khizr Khan of the evening, was a young woman named Kristin Urquiza, who delivered a fiery account of how her father, a Trump supporter, believed it when the Republicans said it was OK to go out and socialize, went out and socialized, and promptly contacted the virus and died. Most fiery line: "His only pre-existing condition was trusting Donald Trump, and for that he paid with his life." Wow.
A couple musical interludes. Maggie Rogers sang a dull song, but did so in the mannered folksinger style that I enjoy. Billy Porter sort of lost his way near the end of "For What It's Worth" (a highly relevant song today, since it's about cops breaking up a peaceful demonstration), but it was mostly OK.
One thing that did nag at me was the repeated declarations that Biden would unite us, while Trump only divides us. That may be true, but the last candidate to say, "I'm a uniter, not a divider," was George W. Bush, and remember what happened to him. I'd rather not be reminded.
trying to escape the heat
Huge thunderstorms all Saturday night and Sunday morning managed to ignite brush fires in the hills but did nothing to break the temperature. Sunday afternoon I'd had enough, so I finally got fully dressed and retreated to the one air-conditioned site at my disposal, my car. I drove off into the mountains, hoping it might be cooler on the other side. (And incidentally making the third time I've left my county since the pandemic started.) It wasn't cooler, but it was refreshing enough inside the car, even though I was pretty much constantly driving mountain roads for two hours.
I stopped in at a grocery in the mountain town of Boulder Creek, which I've patronized before - I always need some sort of destination when I go out driving. Not only were they out of the item they used to carry that nobody else did, but they've ceased carrying the entire brand. A shame, but typical. I headed back towards home on the other back road, which at least has been repaired from the time half of it fell into a gully when I was last on it several years ago. Quite refreshed by the time I got home, and ready to attack the making of dinner.
I stopped in at a grocery in the mountain town of Boulder Creek, which I've patronized before - I always need some sort of destination when I go out driving. Not only were they out of the item they used to carry that nobody else did, but they've ceased carrying the entire brand. A shame, but typical. I headed back towards home on the other back road, which at least has been repaired from the time half of it fell into a gully when I was last on it several years ago. Quite refreshed by the time I got home, and ready to attack the making of dinner.
Sunday, August 16, 2020
it's still Kamala
I was watching Seth Meyers' commentary on the Kamala Harris pick, and noticed that Meyers, who knows how to pronounce her name correctly, didn't remark on the fact that his clips show both Mike Pence and Sean Hannity identically mispronouncing her name. There's no excuse for that at this point; she's been in the news for quite a while and has made clear how to say her name. Checking other commentaries like Trevor Noah I find other Republicans also getting it wrong, though most Fox News hosts get it right or at least stumble over it a different way. The exception being Tucker Carlson, who on being explicitly corrected started ranting about how it doesn't matter and that asking for the correct form amounts to claiming she should be immune from criticism. What?
(I saw some comments saying that Biden got it wrong too. No he didn't.)
I think this is going to become a new Republican mispronunciation meme. The most lasting old one was also on display: despite the closed captioning spelling it correctly, Pence in his remarks twice called Harris "the Democrat candidate." He can't even get the name of the party right, and so can't most other Republicans going back at least as far as Bob Dole.
In other VP pick news, while she's the first ever Democratic national-ticket nominee from California (and indeed, as a friend observes, from west of the Central Time Zone), here's one that says she has one predecessor: Adlai Stevenson in 1952 (they forgot about 1956). I think that's really stretching it. Stevenson was born in L.A. but he had no other connection with the state.
Also pointed out by the ooo-ee-ooh Twilight Zone squad, Kamala Harris was born on the same day that Herbert Hoover died.
(I saw some comments saying that Biden got it wrong too. No he didn't.)
I think this is going to become a new Republican mispronunciation meme. The most lasting old one was also on display: despite the closed captioning spelling it correctly, Pence in his remarks twice called Harris "the Democrat candidate." He can't even get the name of the party right, and so can't most other Republicans going back at least as far as Bob Dole.
In other VP pick news, while she's the first ever Democratic national-ticket nominee from California (and indeed, as a friend observes, from west of the Central Time Zone), here's one that says she has one predecessor: Adlai Stevenson in 1952 (they forgot about 1956). I think that's really stretching it. Stevenson was born in L.A. but he had no other connection with the state.
Also pointed out by the ooo-ee-ooh Twilight Zone squad, Kamala Harris was born on the same day that Herbert Hoover died.
Saturday, August 15, 2020
sweltering in place
It's been very hot. Especially today.
In the morning, when it was still relatively tepid outside, we went to the park for another session of B's Socially Distanced String Quartet.
When we came back, I stripped down, put on my lightest-weight robe, and spent most of the afternoon downstairs, where it's less hot, reading old Sprague de Camp fantasy novels. Getting dressed again to go in search of somewhere cooler, with a restroom, did not appeal.
Tybalt is stretched out lying on the linoleum.
In the morning, when it was still relatively tepid outside, we went to the park for another session of B's Socially Distanced String Quartet.
When we came back, I stripped down, put on my lightest-weight robe, and spent most of the afternoon downstairs, where it's less hot, reading old Sprague de Camp fantasy novels. Getting dressed again to go in search of somewhere cooler, with a restroom, did not appeal.
Tybalt is stretched out lying on the linoleum.
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