Skip to content

Lazare, the Last Veteran

Yesterday, Lazare Ponticelli, France’s last living veteran of World War I, died at the age of 110. “Today, I express the nation’s deep emotion and infinite sadness,” said French President Nicolas Sarkozy.

I learned, somewhat unexpectedly, that I am loosely related to Lazare. He was my husband’s mother’s father’s cousin. Looking at the photographs accompanying his obituary, I thought I could see a faint resemblance, especially around the hairline.

Lazare and my grandfather-in-law were born in Italy. Their fathers were brothers who emigrated to France with their families. At 16, Lazare lied about his age to join the French Foreign Legion and fight against the Germans. After the war, he and his brothers started a successful piping company in Paris. Like many men who live to such an age, he developed both a long view of the world and a certain bluntness. Not long ago, he said simply, “War is completely stupid.”

Until about a year ago, Lazare was one of a small group of surviving French veterans of the First World War. Then, one by one, the others died. My husband and I found ourselves quietly rooting for him to be the last, though it is a strange thing to root for. In January, the second-to-last veteran passed away, leaving Lazare as the final living link. Winner! we joked.

But, there is no real triumph in outliving 8.4 million fellow soldiers. There is only the weight of having seen so much, and the strange position of receiving recognition on behalf of men who did not live long enough to receive any. There is also a particular kind of loneliness in being the last person who remembers, in holding memories of trenches and battlefields that will soon belong entirely to history.

May they all rest in peace.

Posted in In the News.

Tagged with , , , .

Comments Off on Lazare, the Last Veteran

By Meredith – March 13, 2008

Hobbit or Hobbled?

Last year, Indonesian and Australian paleoanthropologists made a jaw-dropping announcement: The several 3-foot tall skeletons and single grapefruit-sized skull that were discovered in 2004 on a remote island in Indonesia are the remains of a distinct species of humans called Homo floresiensis, who branched off from human lineage at least 800,000 years ago. Not only did the species survive up until 12,000 years ago (as compared to poor Neanderthal’s demise 24,000 years ago), it’s the cutest species in the genus Homo yet. (Aw! I want one.)

The excitement over this newfound extinct hominid is only matched by the fervor with which the claims are disputed by scientists who feel that the skeletal remains are of modern humans who were afflicted with a genetic development disorder. These scientists point to recently-discovered inhabitants on another island 1000 miles north to support their argument that the general human population in Indonesia at the time was on the smaller end of the human height and brain-case scale, and that these H. floresiensis skeletons were actually dwarfs or malformed humans.

In other words, heralding a whole new hominid species based on the discovery of a few exceptionally short people would be like pointing to women in California as evidence that the human race has evolved the ability to store fat exclusively in their lips, or pointing at the inhabitants of the state of Florida as evidence that the human race is severely mentally retarded. (Sorry, that was in extremely bad taste. I would like to pre-offer apologies to all severely mentally retarded people for comparing them to Floridians).

Regardless, the discovery of these little skeletons has captured the public’s imagination, or at least the public who understands and accepts words like “genus,” “evolution,” and “human lineage” as not being sacrilege. Among these godless geeks, the Homo floresiensis’ public relations has been helped by widespread media use of their nickname of the “Hobbit,” after the Lord of the Rings. One can only assume that had the remains been discovered several generations ago, the newspapers would have dubbed the island “Munchkinland” and its inhabitants “Munchkins.”

Posted in In the News.

Tagged with .

Comments Off on Hobbit or Hobbled?

By Meredith – March 12, 2008

Re-Employment Day #1

The first day at a new company is always stressful. The new employee is introduced to dozens of people. The new employee is inundated with critical information. The new employee is constantly wondering: Can I do this job? Will I like it here? Who will be my allies? Who will be my enemies? Where do I find the office supplies?

The first day that a former employee returns to a company that they had previously left is also stressful, but for different reasons. The new-old employee is re-introduced to dozens of people who they never thought they would work with again. Back for your second tour of duty, huh? There is no pressure to make a good first impression, but there is a certain amount of contrite sheepishness: Yes, I’m back. I was wrong to stray. I missed you all. The new-old employee is inundated with critical information that they had long since given their brains permission to forget about. The new-old employee is constantly wondering: Is so-and-so really glad to see me back? Does that white board have the same systems diagram on it? Will they ever fix the squeaky Ladies Room door? Why did I leave the first time?

Complicating the return of a former employee to a company is if, during the interim, the employee got married and changed her name. Fortunately, this deflects attention from any embarrassing circumstances surrounding the employee’s return, such as getting laid off from the start-up that the employee ran away to join. New-old co-workers are compelled to focus on the more gossip-worthy fact that the new-old employee’s new last name is the same last name of the French guy who also left the company the previous year.

Posted in The 9 to 5.

Tagged with .

Comments Off on Re-Employment Day #1

By Meredith – March 11, 2008

In the News

Google Maps Meat View

Yesterday the Boston Herald reported that Google Maps Street View captured Boston City Councilor Sal LaMattina on the sidewalk in front of his East Boston home, washing his trash cans with a hose, totally shirtless. I have nothing really to say about this, except: Yow, baby! Who cares if he’s shirtless, it’s totally hot to see a man engaging in supererogatory cleaning. Hey, Mr. Councilorbaby, come over to my house, I’ve got some trash cans you can hose down. Really.

Ban to the Bones

A parent in Waltham, Massachusetts is lobbying to have the best-selling novel The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold removed from the library shelf at her daughters’ middle school due to its graphic and mature content. The mother clarifies that she’s “not banning anything,” she only wants the book to be permanently removed from the library so that no one can read it. Kinda exactly like banning, except without the word’s ugly connotations and the sense that someone’s intellectual freedom is being violated.

The Burkaberry

I admit, there have been days when I wished I could just crawl into a burkha. They look really warm and comfortable, and would make for a low-maintenance morning routine. Plus, I’d go through the world in my own little shell, protected from the prying eyes of man-beasts whose libidinous desires may be aroused by the sight of me in jeans and a sweater. So I was intrigued when I read about the Burkaberry — a traditional burkha done entirely in Burberry’s distinctive plaid, complete with stylish black mesh eye slit. But as tempting as would be to brandish the irony of wearing 14th-century desert garb designed by a luxury British fashion house, well, a black one would probably be much more slimming.

Posted in In the News.

Tagged with , , .

Comments Off on In the News

By Meredith – March 10, 2008

Too Wit

Today I voraciously consumed Viva la Repartee: Clever Comebacks & Witty Retorts from History’s Great Wits & Wordsmiths by Dr. Mardy Grothe.

Reading all these historical tales of great wit has humbled and rendered me shy to attempt wit of my own. So tonight I will cull just one of the hundreds of stories for your amusement. After weighing the attributes of various favorites, the following on page 140 jumped out:

While browsing one day in a used bookstore in London, George Bernard Shaw happened upon one of his old books. Opening the book, he was surprised to discover it was one he had previously given — and personally inscribed — to a friend: To So-and-So, With esteem, George Bernard Shaw.

Instantly sensing a rare opportunity, Shaw snapped up the book, had it gift wrapped, and arranged for it to be delivered to his friend. Before doing so, however, he added a few words after the original inscription: With renewed esteem, George Bernard Shaw.

Posted in Culture.

Tagged with , .

Comments Off on Too Wit

By Meredith – March 9, 2008

New Kids on the Block Flashback

Rumors are flying about a reunion of New Kids on the Block, the seminal late-80s/early-90s boy band whose music reached such heights of cheesy crappiness as to directly cause the subsequent public embrace of grunge and gangsta rap. Because the band originated from the Boston area, the local media is reporting these rumors and inducing vivid, jarring flashbacks to the year 1989.

I was the exactly the right demographic: 12 years old, female, white, middle-class, suburban. I liked music. I liked boys. I had the proven ability to get consumed by fads. But for some reason, despite the frenzied hoopla that emanated from the magazines, radio, and my peer group, New Kids on the Block just did not stick to me.

My circle of friends at the time had some hardcore NKOTB fans (I’m not naming any names, but you know who you are.) At the lunch table, they traded tidbits of personal information gleaned from Tiger Beat and SuperTeen magazines (Jordan puts ketchup on everything! Danny wears glasses off-stage! Donnie is learning Chinese!) They relayed news about tours or how the singles were faring in that week’s Top 40. Most of all, they talked about which NKOTB was their favorite, and why.

At that point, I was looking beyond Top 40 radio and discovering Led Zeppelin, the Rolling Stones, and Janis Joplin — music that seemed revolutionary in my cloistered suburban world. But if I had to feign delirium over five guys doing faux rap to synthesized pop in order to fit in with my friends, of course I tried. It was the first time I felt peer pressure, and I crumbled like a Chips Ahoy.

So, when it came time to enthuse about our favorite individual NKOTB, I picked Jordan. He was the most visually appealing to me, and I liked his name. Plus, Jordan was the most common crush to have. Had I picked Jon or Donnie, I would be at a loss to summon the requisite fervor. Joey was also popular, but too predictable and also short for my tastes. And picking Danny as my favorite would be like announcing that I’m a sick freak. No one liked Danny.

I couldn’t keep up the charade of being a NKOTB fan for very long, though. I refused to buy their tapes, books, trading cards, lunch boxes, sleeping bags, or t-shirts, and my lack of merchandise revealed my lack of commitment to the band. By the time the band’s popularity waned, I had long moved onto punk music. So, if there is a NKOTB reunion, maybe I’ll indulge in a bit of nostalgia by hiding in my bedroom and blasting “Holidays in the Sun” while the rest of my peer group converges to relive the musical magic that was “Hangin Tough”.

Posted in Nostalgia.

Tagged with .

Comments Off on New Kids on the Block Flashback

By Meredith – March 8, 2008

The Atlantic Drowns Britney

I suspect that I was not the only subscriber to The Atlantic Monthly who was shocked and dismayed to see Britney Spears on the cover of the April 2008 issue. I do my best to defend my home against the onslaught of Britney images that seek to tintillate interest in the ongoing dramas of this poor, ridiculous woman, but here she is, her face covering the Atlantic banner, looking vulnerable in a pair of oversized sunglasses, surrounded by cameras and outstretched hands. She is truly inescapable. (Heck, she’s even on this web site.)

The Atlantic Monthly is supposed to be brain food, a source of informative coverage and commentary about foreign affairs, politics, and cultural trends. At least they could have stuck their Britney musings towards the back, with the book reviews, food and travel writing, and the monthly woman’s essay that is usually backlash against the femininist backlash, backlash in support of the feminist backlash, or ranting about housework. I do not dispute that Britney Spears is a disturbing cultural trend, but finding her on the cover was like ordering a healthy grilled fish at a restaurant and being served fudge-drenched chocolate cake.

Of course I ate the cake. I totally lapped it up. The journalist splits his time following Britney’s omnipresent pack of 30 to 45 “shooters,” and expounding on this new brand of “powerful and lucrative” paparazzi, born out of “the online convergence of instant images and dramatic story lines [that] encouraged the idea that the news was filter-free and that readers were part of the story.”

Candid shots of stars used to be fodder for marginalized tabloids, but in the past 5 years, mainstream media has grown ever-more eager for these pictures and video clips, too. And even the Atlantic, in the guise of reporting about the reporting, is eager to get a piece of the Britney bonanza.

Posted in In the News.

Tagged with , .

Comments Off on The Atlantic Drowns Britney

By Meredith – March 7, 2008

Craigslist Ad: Really, Really Good Editor Needed

I saw this posted on Boston Craigslist in the Writing Gigs section. Damn it, I accept a job just yesterday, and now this golden opportunity comes along. My timing has always been unfortunate.

I’M WRITTIING A BOOK NEED A EDITOR
THE BOOK IS CALL LIFE OF A KID IN THE GHETTO..
CALL ME OR TEXT ME HOW MUCH /IS ABOUT 100 PAGES I HAVE 39 TO DO FIRST..
TEXT ME HERE 617XXXXXXX@TMOMAIL.NET

Posted in Americana.

Tagged with .

Comments Off on Craigslist Ad: Really, Really Good Editor Needed

By Meredith – March 5, 2008

Disemployment Day #11

Today’s New York Times Business column discusses how the federal government’s unemployment rate is misleading because it does not include unemployed people who “do not have a job, have actively looked for work in the prior four weeks, and are currently available for work,” which was the criteria for being unemployed that the Bureau of Labor Statistics established way back in the 1870s.

The “actively looking for work” distinction is important because the unemployment rate should not count people like stay-at-home moms, dot-com millionaires, 20-something trust-fund slackers, and retirees. But this also means that the 5 percent unemployment rate that politicians often cite does not include prime-age people who just can’t compete in today’s marketplace and have plumb given up. Think of the coal miners in West Virginia, or the furniture tradesmen of North Carolina. The article calls these people nonemployed. (By the way, nor does unemployment rate account for the 1% of the American population that is imprisoned, but that’s another issue).

Since becoming disemployed, I have fallen into a routine where I leave the house between 10am and 1pm. This is prime time for us jobless folk to do our errands while the rest of the populace is settled into their offices. I see mothers pushing baby carriages or leading their babbling toddlers on the sidewalk. I see retirees bantering with store clerks and steering their Buicks down the street at 15mph. I also see a few, but not many, people in the prime of their life. It could be their day off, or they could be a second or third shift worker, or they could be “between jobs” like me.

But I live in Boston, an economically vibrant area where anyone willing and able to work can find something. I know there are places in America where there are no jobs, and I shudder to think about that sense of hopelessness. One factory shuts down and the entire town suffers. People compete for jobs at a Wal-mart, or do odd jobs to pick up cash, but they cannot find a good, steady job if it does not exist. They are nonemployed, idled, waiting, or not waiting.

Posted in Existence.

Tagged with .

Comments Off on Disemployment Day #11

By Meredith – March 5, 2008

Disemployment Day #10

Today is the 2-week anniversary of becoming disemployed. I’m not going to lie: Being disemployed is great! Without the grinding 9-5 routine to structure my every waking (and sleeping) moment, I feel calm and healthy. Monday is no longer a day to rue and dread, it’s just… Monday. I am no longer compelled to squeeze all of my extended errands into Saturday and Sunday. I don’t stare at the clock and wait for 5pm; I glance at the clock and think “Wow, 5pm already! Where did the day go?”

But I can never completely relax. The uncertainty of not knowing where, when, and what my next job will be nags at me. I’ve basically spent the past two weeks at home, sending out resumes, searching job boards, honing my pitch, checking my email, clutching my phone and waiting for my future employer to call.

Well, the end of disemployment is nigh. Today I accepted a new job, which is actually my old job back at the company I left last August, on a reduced-hour schedule. That’s right, I’m working the dream: The 32-hour French work week!

Now I have a week to truly enjoy my disemployment: Daytime cinema, leisurely shopping trips, lunchtime wine, and recreational reading. Funny, I had purchased a clutch of bargain-bin hardcovers just before I was laid off, including Barbara Ehrenreich’s Bait and Switch: The (Futile) Pursuit of the American Dream, in which the author goes undercover to expose layoffs, downsizing, and the rigors of attaining a white-collar job. For the past two weeks, I couldn’t even look at Bait and Switch– I even kind of blamed it for my disemployment — but now I can’t wait to dig in and bask in schadenfreude.

Posted in Existence.

Tagged with , .

Comments Off on Disemployment Day #10

By Meredith – March 4, 2008