The Wombat File Is Yours to Keep

Holy cats. Has another week gone by? Yikes. Well, I don't guess I really can moan about how busy I am when some people have been posting and having babies in the same week (welcome, young William J. Ewins!).

Enought throat-clearing. Onward to the brain-bruisr of the hour:

He was born in 1861 to William R. and Edmonia Taylor Fall. Due to poor health as a child he headed west and settled, taking up the law. He served as the captain of an infantry troop in the Spanish-American war, later entered politics and became one of the first holders of national elective office from his state. He left that office in 1912 for an appointed position at the highest levels of government, where his responsibilities included the management of natural resources.

In 1929, Mr. Fall achieved a historic "first." What was it? Bonus point: by what name do we know the event that led to this "first"?

First correct answer posted to comments wins a rare package of marshmallow peeps rendered in the likeness of your favorite Bloomsbury group writers -- from Lytton Strachey to E.M. Forster, they're all here, just in time for Easter! No Googling or furtive picking at that dead skin on the back of your elbow. Stop it. Stop it. One guess per comment, but comment as often as you like.

Posted by BT at 11:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (12)

Today's Gallagher-style-melon-smasher is a product of the Wombat's stumbling upon one thing in looking up another. Two very different products of The Great Cornucopia of Media are linked by one talented actress.

You probably know Stephen Vincent Benet for short stories like "The Devil and Daniel Webster" (or at least Simpsons-style parodies of same). You probably don't know that a line of his poetry furnished the title for Dee Brown's classic work Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee.

You may not know that he also adapted a myth from the early history of Rome into a short story, translated into an American setting. This was then adapted into MGM film which garnered an Academy Award nomination for best picture.

Among the large principal cast ensemble was a woman whose first movie roles had been in Slaves of Babylon and as "the gilded girl" in Serpent of the Nile in which she was clad only in gold paint) would later have a recurring role on a televsion program which was a big hit during its short two-year run. At the height of its popularity, it was the only prime time TV show other than Peyton Place to be broadcast twice in one week as part of its regular schedule, airing at 7:30 p.m. both Wednesdays and Thursdays.

What was the film adapted from SVB's fictional adaptation? Who was the paintworthy cast member? What was the television show she later appeared in?

First correct answer posted to comments gets an autographed copy of Tony Snow's old newspaper column calling for Clinton aides to testify under oath. No Googling or trying to pretend that you never laughed at a Gallagher bit. One guess at each part of the question per comment, but comment as often as you like.

Posted by BT at 12:07 AM | Permalink | Comments (34)

Yes, technically it's still Thursday. That means the Australian continigent will probably run away with this one. Stupid spherical earth!

All set?

Dactylopius coccus ranges from Mexico down into tropical and subtropical South America, feeding primarily on cactus. It was used by the Incas, and when colonization brought awareness of the creature to Europe, it became highly prized there; one use was in the makings of the robes of Roman Catholic Cardinals. During the colonial period, they were Mexico's second most valuable export after silver. Ranches devoted to raising Dactylopius coccus were tried in numerous locations in Africa and the Mediterranean, with the greatest success occurring in the Canary Islands, still large producers of the creatures.

For what purpose is this creature now raised?

First correct answer posted to comments wins an old, semi-functional Simon Says that won't give you credit most of the time for getting the sequence right, which is really frustrating. No Googling or doing whatever else I would tell you not to do if I weren't so damn tired. One guess per comment, but comment as often as you like.

Posted by BT at 11:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (14)

In Thirteen E-Z Steps

1. Indulge in a couple of months of mounting anxiety/paranoia about availability of local Pre-K slots, via rumor on neighborhood listserv, playground chats, in line at Fairway, etc.

2. Realize that if you pay your current (private) preschool what it's asking for another year, you'll never forgive yourself. Convince yourself to bank on the public system. Attempt to dismiss rising anxiety levels and believe that despite increasingly wild speculations on listserv (playground, Fairway, etc.) all will be well. Eschew paying massive nonrefundable deposit and enjoy three days of self-righteous satisfaction ("We're not the kind of people who need a fancy-pants preschool").

3. Plunge into renewed anxiety. Realize you might wind up with no preschool at all next year unless you have a good "back-up" for your zoned school, in case the rumors of skyrocketing demand turn out to be true. Wonder if your fancy-pants pre-school can be persuaded to keep you on a waiting list even without a deposit.

4. Research back-up schools in case zoned school doesn't work out.

5. Discover the insufficiency of your research tools.

6. Discover the one thing you can learn about each potential back-up school is that
   a. it will be a bitch to get a kid there and back five days a week.
   b. it has even fewer pre-K slots than your neighborhood school.

7. Treat mounting anxiety with
   a. moderate amounts of red wine.
   b. network television.
   c. mutually supportive conversations with other parents going through the same thing, resulting in increased anxiety for all concerned.
   d. large amounts of red wine and network television.

8. Phone neighborhood school and all back-up possibilities several times. Create a spreadsheet matrix of the conflicting answers about times, methods, and durations of Pre-K regristration periods. Annotate with contingencies as outlined by officials at regional and district offices. Include statements from the school, periodically posted online, which contradict all of the above.

9. Consult matrix whenever anxiety level drops into reasonable state.

10. Allow the fact that all registration will occur in a desperate one-day blitz, in which one's "place in line" at each back-up school will be determined by when you get there with child in tow, to penetrate last undamaged redoubts of brain.

11. As "PK-Day" approaches, formulate battle plan for attacking list of schools. Play-dough, toy trains, and Playmobil figures may be employed to map out assault strategy. Realize that the person smart enough to market software allowing parents to automate this process would make enough money to hire freaking Mary Poppins.

12. Assemble birth certificate, immunization record, maternal grandmother's horoscope, power bill, tax return, bag of properly sorted recyclables (rinsed), and six proofs of purchase for Veggie Booty.

13. Consult weather, assemble good-behavior bribes and join the Amazing Race. On the big day, try not to get carried away.

Posted by BT at 12:08 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

A late start! Aahhh! Marsupial panic. Let's just do it...

Simeon E. Baldwin, a Yale professor and the publisher of Baldwin's Connecticut Digest suggested a gathering in 1878 in Saratoga Springs, New York, by colleagues drawn from 21 different states. The result was the creation of an organization that survives to this day. Simultaneous with its founding, the practice which it supports began moving from an emphasis on speaking to one on writing. Baldwin, incidentally, later switched his political party affiliation, to the Democratic party, and was elected governor of Connecticut.

What organization was he instrumental in founding?

First correct answer posted to comments wins an autographed copy of Scooter Libby's intrigue-filled novel The Apprentice. No Googling or ratting out the veep!
One post per comment but comment as often as you like.

Posted by BT at 11:05 AM | Permalink | Comments (13)

Please cast your votes for

The Worst Rock Couplet of All Time

Jim Steinman's Steadman's lyrics are disqualified.

Posted by BT at 07:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (21)

I got nothing by way of a preamble, here. Oh, the SHAME of it!

Born with the first name of Pearl (later dropped), this author hit the Publishers Weekly annual bestseller lists for the first time in 1914, and his first yearly No. 1 was published four years later. It opened with a quotation from Robert Louis Stevenson, and its first chapter was one 256-word-long sentence of description, which concluded with "...and where, out beyond the golden land, asleep and peaceful, stretched the illimitable Pacific, vague and grand beneath the setting sun."

The author's last book to make the annual list was published in 1924, though the writer continued to have a flourishing career until dying in 1939.

Who is the author?

First correct answer posted to comments wins a Groat o' Johns. No Googling and no hiring one of those new SAT prep tutors to try to cram your head with synonyms for antipathy and antonyms for synesthesia (although if you can think of an antonym for synesthesia, I'd be most grateful. Stupid crossword puzzle!). One guess per comment but if you don't comment often the editors of National Lampoon will shoot that puppy.

UPDATE: This remains unsolved as of Saturday night...we'll keep going at least through Monday if no one comes up with the correct answer sooner. See the comments for additional clues.

Posted by BT at 12:01 AM | Permalink | Comments (44)