Obit watch: March 19, 2020.

March 19th, 2020

Alfred M. Worden, Apollo 15 astronaut. NASA tribute page.

Apollo 15 was NASA’s first moon mission devoted mainly to science. The flight of Apollo 11 in July 1969 had fulfilled President John F. Kennedy’s call for America to reach the moon by the end of the 1960s. But the three lunar landings that preceded Apollo 15 had yielded relatively modest insight into the moon’s origin and composition.
Major Worden, of the Air Force, spent three days in orbit operating a pair of cameras in his space capsule Endeavour.
Those photos provided the sharpest images ever taken of the moon, an achievement that led to the mapping of its rugged terrain. Major Worden also operated an extensive package of instruments to enhance knowledge of space and the moon itself.
En route home, he released a “sub-satellite” — carried by Endeavour and weighing about 78 pounds — that was designed to orbit the moon for at least a year and radio back data on its gravitational field and other technical information. It was the first time such a space vehicle had been deployed.
He also undertook the first walk in deep space, spending 38 minutes tethered to Endeavour while more than 196,000 miles from Earth as he retrieved canisters of film attached to the skin of the craft.
The other Apollo 15 crewmen — Col. David R. Scott and Lt. Col. James B. Irwin, also Air Force officers — became the seventh and eighth men to land on the moon, having descended in their Lunar Module, Falcon, from the space capsule piloted by Major Worden. They spent 18½ hours exploring its surface and covered about 17½ miles in their rover — both NASA records — and returned to the capsule for the flight home with some 170 pounds of rock and soil samples.

Obit watch: March 18, 2020.

March 18th, 2020

Stuart Whitman, another one of those knock-around TV and movie actors. THR.

He was “Marshal Jim Crown” on “Cimarron Strip”, played a child molester in a British movie called “The Mark”, was “Sergeant Walters” on “Highway Patrol”, and did guest shots on a whole lot of 70’s TV. (No “Mannix”, though.)

Lyle Waggoner. Things I didn’t know: he tried out for “Batman”. He was the first “Playgirl” centerfold. He did guest shots on “Lost in Space” (the original) and “Supertrain”. And he was in “Catalina Caper“.

The return of hoplobibliophilia.

March 17th, 2020

Half-Price Books had another coupon sale last week (before everything went to heck in a handbasket), and I managed to hit most of the sale days. (I missed Monday and Thursday, for reasons.)

On the non-gun book front, I picked up mostly small beer: a copy of Laura Shapiro’s What She Ate: Six Remarkable Women and the Food That Tells Their Stories for $8.49 plus tax. I know it sounds awfully feminist, but I’m interested in food history and food anthropology, and I’ve enjoyed Shapiro’s other books.

My other non-gun book purchase was the three volume non-abridged (I’m pretty sure) Modern Library edition of The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire (in the ugly brown covers) which I got on Sunday using a 50% off coupon: originally $40 for the set, so $20 plus tax. It seems to be in at least good, if not very good, condition, and I probably could have gotten it for about that price plus shipping through Amazon’s used market, but this was just easier. (Yes, I could also have downloaded it for free from Project Gutenberg: indeed, I actually have. But I’ve found it hard to read the PG edition, and it was worth $20 to me to have a printed copy.)

And what of gun books? Well, I did find a few of those…

Read the rest of this entry »

Obit watch: March 17, 2020.

March 17th, 2020

Genesis Breyer P-Orridge:

Genesis led the influential British rock bands Throbbing Gristle and Psychic TV, dabbled as a dominatrix in New York, ran a soup kitchen in Kathmandu, hid out from Scotland Yard, organized a cultlike fan club that asked initiates to send in their bodily fluids, and undertook a long-running surgical project to merge identities with her wife, Jacqueline Mary Breyer, in a single nongendered being they called a “pandrogyne.”

Apropos of nothing in particular…

March 16th, 2020

“The Machine Stops” by E.M. Forster.

“A Journal of the Plague Year” by Daniel Defoe from Project Gutenberg.

I’m not sure I’ve ever linked this before: the diary of Samuel Pepys in blog form.

Stuff’s getting serious watch: part II

March 14th, 2020

The April Wanenmacher’s Tulsa Arms Show has been cancelled.

In light of current events, we do not want to put our exhibitors, spectators or employees at risk. For over 65 years we have held two shows a year without exception until now. For the safety of everyone involved, this is the right thing to do.
Additionally, we are very concerned that the Governor of Oklahoma will follow the example of other states and limit the number of people allowed to gather in one space. Should this happen, we want to give everyone as much time as possible to change their travel plans.

Again, I don’t think this is any vast conspiracy: I think, as the Wanenmacher people say, they are just being cautious.

(And I can’t get that upset: Mike the Musicologist and I had put off going until November of this year, even though the April show is normally the one we’d go to in our rotation. This year, though, the S&WCA Symposium is in Tulsa in June, so we decided to push Wanenmacher’s out to November so my wallet would have time to recover.)

Happy Pi Day!

March 14th, 2020

Sadly, the celebration this year is more than a little subdued, and not just because Pi Day falls on a Saturday.

I had actually planned to do Pi Day (observed) on Monday at work. I’d even ordered pies six days in advance. Unfortunately, that was overtaken by events.

So, in lieu of pie, have some Pi: a blog post from Timothy Mullican about his record-setting calculation of Pi to 50 trillion digits, on what’s basically commodity hardware.

(Wikipedia’s chronology of Pi computations.)

(y-cruncher homepage.)

My culture!

March 13th, 2020

They are appropriating it!

Seen at the HEB in Lakeway last night.

In other news, stuff’s getting serious: Buzzard Day in Hinkley, Ohio, has been “postponed”. It is not clear to me if anybody has conveyed this message to the buzzards.

Also, by way of Mike the Musicologist: the High Caliber gun show this weekend in Conroe has been cancelled by the city. I checked the Premier and Saxet web sites, and don’t see anything there about those shows. But none of these organizations is really good about updating their websites, in my opinion.

(For the record, I don’t see any grand conspiracy here to run gun shows out of business. I think it’s just precautionary. But I’m open to evidence otherwise.)

Also by way of MtM: Blue Bell has closed their “Visitor Center, Ice Cream Parlor, Country Store and Observation Deck” until further notice. The ice cream parlor and country store in Sylacauga are also closed until further notice.

And. of course, no bet with Lawrence on Gonzaga this year. That’s a shame, as I was pretty sure this was Gonzaga’s year.

Random notes: March 11, 2020.

March 11th, 2020

Great and good FOTB (and official firearms trainer of WCD) Karl sent us a note yesterday: Hookers & Blow are touring.

Or is it “Hookers and Blow is touring”? “Hookers and Blow” is a singular collective noun, so it seems like it should be “is”, but somehow that rings false to my ear.

ANYWAY, “Hookers & Blow” is a band. Specifically, “the now legendary project formed by long time Guns N’ Roses keyboardist Dizzy Reed and Quiet Riot guitarist Alex Grossi”. Sadly, their tour is not taking them out of California: but they do have a new single coming out on March 23rd, which I’ve already pre-ordered.

Thanks, Karl! Looking forward to seeing you on the 29th!

In related news: 23 years for Harvey “I’m going to give the NRA my full attention” Weinstein. This is actually buried pretty far down the NYT front page: though, to be fair, the stuff above it is all corona virus or election news.

Interestingly:

In the days following news reports about how he used his power to sexually assault women, Harvey Weinstein made a desperate plea for help in emails to two dozen influential people, including the billionaires Michael Bloomberg and Jeff Bezos.

Obit watch: March 10, 2020.

March 10th, 2020

Max von Sydow. Variety. THR.

Man classed up everything he was in.

R.D. Call, movie and TV character actor. He was in “Born On the Fourth of July”, “Last Man Standing”, and “Waterworld”, as well as a fair amount of TV. Of particular note: he was in “L.A. Takedown”, the TV movie that later became “Heat”.

Obit watch: March 4, 2020.

March 4th, 2020

I’m dropping into the obscure here, but I have reasons.

Rafael Cancel Miranda. Mr. Miranda was one of the four men who shot up the US Capital on March 1, 1954.

Mr. Cancel Miranda, a hero to many who favor independence for Puerto Rico but a terrorist to many others, was 23 when he and three companions attacked the Capitol, spraying gunfire from the gallery into the House chamber and injuring five congressmen as 243 House members were debating a bill involving migrant workers from Mexico.
The four — the others were Lolita Lebrón, Irvin Flores Rodríguez and Andres Figueroa Cordero — were not satisfied with the agreement that had made Puerto Rico a United States commonwealth in 1952, believing that it was a sham and that the island essentially remained an occupied colony.
Ms. Lebrón waved a Puerto Rican flag briefly and shouted about independence as the attack unfolded and House members sought cover. The four were overpowered and arrested.
Although the scene was chaotic, Mr. Cancel Miranda, at least, was convinced that most of those injured “got hurt by my gun,” as he put it when he was freed in 1979.
“No congressman in particular was the target,” he said then. “It was just an effort to shoot up the place. If we aimed to kill, believe me, that would have happened.”

All four men served “lengthy prison sentences”, at least by NYT standards. Wikipedia says that Mr. Miranda was sentenced to 85 years.

In 1977 President Jimmy Carter commuted the sentence of Mr. Figueroa Cordero, who had cancer and died in 1979. President Carter freed the other three in 1979, though they had never sought clemency, considering themselves political prisoners.

Mr. Miranda was the last surviving member of the quartet.

I’ve been going back and forth about this one, and came down on the side of inclusion. Not because this person was famous, but because this is another example of the kind of thing the paper of record does well: the obit for the person who was important to the community in some way, without necessarily being famous.

In this case, Matvey “Falafel” Natanzon, backgammon player.

His illness prematurely ended a roller-coaster career during which he went from sleeping under a bench in Washington Square Park, where he lived for nearly six months after college, to mastering backgammon, a board game that combines rolls of the dice with strategic checker moves.

In his short pants, sweatshirt and knitted wool hat, Mr. Natanzon could look like an amiable loser to his easy marks, as he baited them with his nonstop babble and swaggering hubris.
He would graduate to winning (and, on rarer occasions, losing) tens of thousands of dollars in as little as an hour; achieve celebrity status in a game that had migrated from black-tie casino tables to cheesy hotel ballrooms, where baseball caps worn backward were de rigeur; and be named the top player in an unofficial ranking by his peers, known as the Giants of Backgammon.
“Falafel is, without a doubt, backgammon’s No. 1 commentator and is probably its best-known celebrity,” Joe Russell, the chairman of the backgammon federation’s board, said when he awarded Mr. Natanzon the organization’s Lifetime Achievement Award in 2018. “He has been in the top 10 of the Giants list seven straight times, and has been voted No. 1 twice and No. 2 once.”

He was 51. A brain tumor got him.

Obit watch: March 3, 2020.

March 3rd, 2020

James Lipton. THR. I wish I had more to say about him, but my anti-cable TV policy means that I never saw an episode of “Inside the Actor’s Studio”, and I’m way too young to remember “The Lone Ranger” on the radio.

One thing I don’t think I was consciously aware of until I read his obit: he also wrote An Exaltation of Larks.

Claudette Nevins. She was one of those knock-around actresses: she was in the original production of “Plaza Suite” and toured nationally with “The Great White Hope”. She also did a lot of TV, especially in the 70s: “Barnaby Jones”, “M*A*S*H” (she was the woman Charles Emerson Winchester “married” while drunk in Tokyo), “Mrs. Colombo”, “Switch”, “Lou Grant”, “The Rockford Files”, “Electra Woman and Dyna Girl”, “The F.B.I.”…and the list goes on. (She even did an episode of “Police Squad“. (“In Color”!)) Never did a “Mannix”, though, at least per IMDB.

Obit watch: March 2, 2020.

March 2nd, 2020

I was going to make this a special true crime edition, but I got overtaken by events.

Jack Welch, former CEO of GE.

It was a time when successful, lavishly paid corporate executives were more admired than resented. Mr. Welch received a record severance payment of $417 million when he retired in 2001. Fortune magazine named him the “Manager of the Century,” and in 2000 The Financial Times named G.E. “the World’s Most Respected Company” for the third straight year.
Mr. Welch’s stardom extended beyond the business world. In a 2000 auction for the rights to his autobiography, Time Warner’s book unit won with a bid of $7.1 million, a record at the time. “Jack: Straight from the Gut,” written with John A. Byrne, was published the next year and eventually sold 10 million copies worldwide.

He attacked bureaucracy and made sweeping payroll cuts, creating a more entrepreneurial, if more Darwinian, corporate culture. He led the globalization of G.E.’s business, both expanding sales and manufacturing overseas. And he made G.E. far more dependent on finance, as banking and investment grew as a share of the American economy.
Mr. Welch distilled his management concepts into one-sentence nuggets. “Control your destiny, or someone else will.” “Be candid with everyone.” “Bureaucrats must be ridiculed and removed.” “If we wait for the perfect answer, the world will pass us by.”
His goal at G.E., Mr. Welch wrote in his autobiography, was to create “a company filled with self-confident entrepreneurs who would face reality every day.”

Mr. Welch was also attacked when he was leading G.E., especially for slashing the G.E. work force, which earned him the nickname “Neutron Jack.” But most of the second thoughts about him and his management legacy have arisen in recent years. The superstar chief executive, laser-focused on enriching shareholders, is often criticized today as a symbol of corporate greed and economic inequity.
The widely diversified corporation that Mr. Welch built is also out of favor, an idea underlined by G.E.’s precipitous decline in the last few years.
The New York Times business columnist James B. Stewart wrote in 2017, “Hardly anyone considers Mr. Welch a management role model anymore, and the conglomerate model he championed at G.E. — that with strict discipline, you could successfully manage any business as long as your market share was first or second — has been thoroughly discredited, at least in the United States.”

Joe Coulombe, founder of Trader Joe’s.

Linda Wolfe, writer. She started out writing short fiction, and was clipping true crime stories to use in novel plots…

A turning point of sorts came in 1975, when twin doctors, both gynecologists, were found dead in their trash-filled apartment on Manhattan’s Upper East Side. It turned out that Ms. Wolfe had been the patient of one of them, years before — only briefly, but that was enough to propel her to investigate the case and turn to a life of writing about crime.
“This will sound callous,” she told The Los Angeles Times in 1994, but she felt lucky that she had had “the ‘good fortune’ of knowing somebody involved in the kind of story I had been clipping.”
Both doctors had been barbiturate addicts and had died not of an overdose but of the drug’s typically severe withdrawal syndrome. Ms. Wolfe, by then working at New York magazine (she worked there for 25 years as a contributing editor, writer and restaurant reviewer), wrote a journalistic account of the case, “The Strange Death of the Twin Gynecologists.” Her article inspired the David Cronenberg movie “Dead Ringers” (1988), which starred Jeremy Irons.

She became a prominent true crime writer.

She would go on to write several books and magazine articles that delved behind some of the nation’s most sensational headlines. Her articles included “The Professor and the Prostitute” (1983), about a Tufts University professor who bludgeoned to death the prostitute he loved, and “From a Nice Family” (1981), about a teenager in Dallas who killed his mother and his father, who was the president of Arco Oil and Gas.
One of her best-known books was “Wasted: The Preppie Murder” (1989), so called because the perpetrator, Robert E. Chambers Jr., had bounced around various elite schools and lived on the Upper East Side. He pleaded guilty to first-degree manslaughter in the 1986 strangulation death of Jennifer Levin in Central Park after they had had sex behind the Metropolitan Museum of Art. He was released in 2003 after serving 15 years in prison and subsequently went back to prison on drug charges.

I read parts of The Professor and the Prostitute quite a while back: it shows up pretty frequently at Half-Price Books. I might have to grab a copy next time I’m there.

Finally, Dr. Charles Friedgood. I’d never heard of him either, but this is one of those interesting true crime stories (for multiple reasons). Dr. Friedgood was convicted of killing his wife in 1975.

While he admitted that he had injected his wife, Sophie Friedgood, 48, with a painkiller, Dr. Friedgood insisted that he had not intended to kill her. She had suffered a stroke in 1959, when she was 33, and had become an invalid.
Dr. Friedgood was convicted of second-degree murder after prosecutors proved to a jury that he had deliberately given his wife an overdose at the family’s 18-room home in Great Neck, N.Y., where they had reared their six children.
Her cause of death was recorded as a stroke, but the police grew suspicious because Dr. Friedgood had signed the death certificate himself and rushed the body out of state for immediate burial in accordance with Jewish religious custom.
Five weeks later, he was arrested at Kennedy International Airport with more than $450,000 of his wife’s cash, negotiable bonds and jewelry. Prosecutors said he had intended to fly to Europe to join his paramour, a Danish nurse who had sometimes cared for Mrs. Friedgood and with whom he had fathered two children. He had begun his affair with the nurse in the late 1960s.

He was sentenced to 25 years to life. He was released on compassionate grounds in late 2007, after being diagnosed with terminal cancer. He’d served 31 years and was 88 when he was released.

He lived another 11 years after being released. According to the NYT, he died in May of 2018 at the age of 99, but his death had not been reported until now.

Obit watch: February 28, 2020.

February 28th, 2020

Freeman J. Dyson, noted physicist.

As a young graduate student at Cornell in 1949, Dr. Dyson wrote a landmark paper — worthy, some colleagues thought, of a Nobel Prize — that deepened the understanding of how light interacts with matter to produce the palpable world. The theory the paper advanced, called quantum electrodynamics, or QED, ranks among the great achievements of modern science.
But it was as a writer and technological visionary that he gained public renown. He imagined exploring the solar system with spaceships propelled by nuclear explosions and establishing distant colonies nourished by genetically engineered plants.

Dr. Dyson called himself a scientific heretic and warned against the temptation of confusing mathematical abstractions with ultimate truth. Although his own early work on QED helped bring photons and electrons into a consistent framework, Dr. Dyson doubted that superstrings, or anything else, would lead to a Theory of Everything, unifying all of physics with a succinct formulation inscribable on a T-shirt. In a speech in 2000 when he accepted the Templeton Prize for Progress in Religion, Dr. Dyson quoted Francis Bacon: “God forbid that we should give out a dream of our own imagination for a pattern of the world.”
Relishing the role of iconoclast, he confounded the scientific establishment by dismissing the consensus about the perils of man-made climate change as “tribal group-thinking.” He doubted the veracity of the climate models, and he exasperated experts with sanguine predictions they found rooted less in science than in wishfulness: Excess carbon in the air is good for plants, and global warming might forestall another ice age.
In a profile of Dr. Dyson in 2009 in The New York Times Magazine, his colleague Steven Weinberg, a Nobel laureate, observed, “I have the sense that when consensus is forming like ice hardening on a lake, Dyson will do his best to chip at the ice.”

He was also skeptical of the “nuclear winter” theory.

He considered himself an environmentalist. “I am a tree-hugger, in love with frogs and forests,” he wrote in 2015 in The Boston Globe. “More urgent and more real problems, such as the overfishing of the oceans and the destruction of wildlife habitat on land, are neglected, while the environmental activists waste their time and energy ranting about climate change.” That was, to say the least, a minority position.
He was religious but in an unorthodox way, believing good works to be more important than theology. “Science is exciting because it is full of unsolved mysteries, and religion is exciting for the same reason,” he said in his Templeton Prize acceptance speech. “The greatest unsolved mysteries are the mysteries of our existence as conscious beings in a small corner of a vast universe.”

Any advanced civilization, he observed in a paper published in 1960, would ultimately expand to the point where it needed all the energy its solar system could provide. The ultimate solution would be to build a shell around the sun — a Dyson sphere — to capture its output. Earthlings, he speculated in a thought experiment, might conceivably do this by dismantling Jupiter and reassembling the pieces.

He was also one of the folks behind Project Orion.

In the late 1970s Dr. Dyson turned full force to writing. Anyone with an interest in science and an appreciation for good prose is likely to have some Dysons on the shelf: “Disturbing the Universe,” “Weapons and Hope,” “Infinite in All Directions,” “The Sun, the Genome and the Internet.”
He also entered literature in a different way. He appeared in John McPhee’s book “The Curve of Binding Energy” (1974), a portrait of Ted Taylor, the nuclear scientist who led the Orion effort, and in Kenneth Brower’s “The Starship and the Canoe” (1978). In a memorable scene, Mr. Brower wrote of Dr. Dyson’s reunion with his son, George, who had turned his back on high technology to live in a treehouse in British Columbia and build a seafaring canoe. George Dyson later returned to civilization and became a historian of technology and an author. Dr. Dyson’s daughter Esther Dyson is a well-known Silicon Valley consultant.

Statement from the Institute for Advanced Study. This is a great line:

In 1956, Dyson began a three-year association with General Atomic, where he worked to design a nuclear reactor that would be inherently safe, or, as colleague Edward Teller put it, “not only idiot-proof, but PhD proof.”

I’m going to have to start using “PhD proof” more often in conversation.

This is eloquently stated, and seems like a good note to end on:

“No life is more entangled with the Institute and impossible to capture—architect of modern particle physics, free-range mathematician, advocate of space travel, astrobiology and disarmament, futurist, eternal graduate student, rebel to many preconceived ideas including his own, thoughtful essayist, all the time a wise observer of the human scene,” stated Robbert Dijkgraaf, IAS Director and Leon Levy Professor. “His secret was simply saying “yes” to everything in life, till the very end. We are blessed and honored that Freeman, Imme, and their family made the Institute their home. It will be so forever.”

Obit watch: February 27, 2020.

February 27th, 2020

Kind, generous, and thoughtful Friend of the Blog Borepatch forwarded a nice obit from the Guardian for the late Clive Cussler, which was much appreciated.

In the early 2000s, Cussler agreed to work with co-authors at the request of his US publisher Simon and Schuster, in order to publish more frequently; in 2017 alone, he published four novels. “I don’t give a damn,” he said in a 2015 interview, in reply to criticism of the move. “I never had a highfalutin view of what I write. It’s a job. I entertain my readers. I get up in the morning and I start typing … I want it to be easy to read. I’m not writing exotic literature. I like snappy dialogue and short descriptions and lots of action.”

There’s an interesting obit in the NYT for Dr. Stanley Dudrick, who passed away at 84. I’d never heard of him, but when people say you rank with…

…Joseph Lister and Ignaz Semmelweis, who pioneered antiseptic medical procedures; William T.G. Morton, who popularized anesthesia during surgery; and Sir Alexander Fleming, who is credited with the discovery of penicillin.

What did he do? Well, when he was a medical resident, three people who had gone through “technically sucessful” surgeries died in the hospital. He wanted to know why, and devoted his time to research…

…finding the answer to be deceptively simple. But more than that, he perfected a treatment — one that has been credited with saving the lives of millions of premature infants as well as those of adults with a wide range of ailments, including cancer, severe bowel, kidney and liver diseases, and burns.

The deceptively simple cause?

The cause of the three deaths that had so motivated him, he concluded, was severe malnutrition. The patients had been unable to eat or to absorb enough nutrients to sustain life.
Malnutrition had often gone unrecognized as a direct or contributing cause of death because death certificates typically cited an underlying disease, like cancer or liver failure.

Dr. Dudrick developed “total parenteral nutrition” (TPN)…

…which bypasses the intestinal tract when a patient cannot receive food or fluids by mouth and instead injects nutrients — liquid carbohydrates, electrolytes, fats, minerals, proteins and vitamins — directly into the circulatory system through a vein.

He never patented TPN.

The intravenous delivery of concentrated nutrients proved successful over time in stimulating and restoring normal bodily functions, including immune systems of patients with malignant growths.
The technique has not only increased the chances of survival after operations; it has also spared many patients surgery — often because a diagnosis of malnutrition had not been contemplated and nutrition was not considered a remedy.

One peer who is quoted in the article believes Dr. Dudrick is responsible for saving “tens of millions of people across the world.”