I made a new tag — "pretzels" — and applied it retroactively.

This was, perhaps, the most satisfying retroactive application of a new tag I have ever done. Check it out: "pretzels."

The trick with tags is to hit the right level of generality. For example, "food" is too general. What's the point? But should there be a tag for every food that happens to play a role in a blog post? Pretzels came up in the first post today. So did crackers. I already had a "crackers" tag — I love crackers — and it felt like the right time to start a "pretzels" tag.

The retroactive application of a tag is a bit of a chore, but it's relatively easy when you have a distinctive word to search for, but it's so rewarding to turn up a lot of varied posts, which is what happened this time. 

There was the story of a disastrous crowd crush in 1896 in which a promise of pretzels played a role.

"Them crackers are salty and they made me thirsty."

Says tiny little Mickey:

That's Robert Blake. I'm reading his obituary this morning, "Robert Blake, ‘Baretta’ Star Acquitted in Wife’s Murder, Dies at 89/His film and TV career began with 'Our Gang' comedies and was highlighted by a performance as a mass killer in 'In Cold Blood.' But he led a tempestuous life" (NYT).

"New York City public school cafeterias are going vegan-only on Fridays under a new policy from famously health-conscious Mayor Adams, who has touted the benefits of a vegan diet."

The Daily News reports. 

Vegetarian is too easy. It includes favorites like pizza and mac and cheese. 

Education officials said there will be a grace period where some nonvegan but vegetarian backup options like cheese sandwiches will still be temporarily available. Vegan backup options like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and hummus and pretzels will also be available....

Gianni Faruolo, a seventh-grader at the Professional Performing Arts School, said he thinks the plant-based switch is “cool.” His mom, Dana Faruolo agreed. “I think it’s great, having options, teaching kids new things.”

Yes, it's valuable to teach through what's for lunch. I hope what they teach is that a meal without meat or eggs or dairy can be perfectly appetizing. It's at least as likely that they end up teaching that vegan = disgusting.

"Pretzel in pocket."

A very short podcast for reasons explained in the first minute.

Topics: "Pretzels, height, crabs, white-presenting voters, roll-off voters, Wikipedia, Billie Eilish, George Harrison, David Bowie, Chrissie Hynde, Emanuel Macron."

"You think that you're the man/I think, therefore, I am/I'm not your friend/Or anything, damn."

So sings Billie Eilish in this new video, which I'm reading about in Vanity Fair — "Jimmy Fallon Parodies Billie Eilish's New Video, Angers 30 Rock Staff" — and watched only so I could understand what Jimmy Fallon had done that pissed people off... and because I like Eilish enough to check out the song, especially since she's highlighting Descartes' famous quip:

 

Here are the lyrics — at Genius — where the annotations include the information: "The video is just the way the song feels to me of just kinda like careless and not really trying.... It’s some random, chaotic, don’t care shit." Some of the best videos have been made like that, with the singer randomly walking along someplace mouthing the lyrics and interacting with this and that. (Yeah? Which ones?!)

Here she's in an empty mall at night, but — as in a dream — the food places are lit up and the fresh food items are ready to be taken and eaten. Notably the pretzels. It's a realistic dream for COVID times. Just to go to a mall again and have a stupid pretzel. Wouldn't it be nice?!

Now, I'm up to speed to watch the Jimmy Fallon parody...

 

Ha ha. COVID dream becomes COVID nightmare. I wish I had a "pretzel" tag, but I won't start one because it would be annoying to add retrospectively, given the metaphorical use of the word. I quoted someone in 2012 saying Mitt Romney "twisted himself into a pretzel, speaking vacuously." How boring to sift through such outdated ephemera. Mitt Romney twists himself into a pretzel, therefore he is. 

But there are also tasty crumbs to be found in a search for "pretzel." There's this — "Pretzels and free will" —  from the first half-year of this blog:

"Then the shelter-in-place order forced us into co-consuming three squares daily. It was a disaster...."

"Worried about shortages, Charlie brought home dumplings, noodle concoctions, matzo ball soup, peanut butter, tuna salad, half pounds of cold cuts, rolls, pita bread — enough to feed a family of 12 in a bunker for months. We were two, one on a strict 1,200 calories a day. This felt like a jarring invasion, ruining the careful strategies that shielded me from my urges and had taken me years to cultivate.... When I found half a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels in his closet, I polished it off and accused him of flagrant insensitivity. 'Your mom sent me those last year,' he said in his own defense. 'I have one a month.'... But I’d wed someone who could eat just one chocolate-covered pretzel per month? We were clearly incompatible.... [M]y obsessive tendencies... gravitated toward food... For me, ceasing entire categories (candy, refined carbs and anything processed) proved easier than moderation. Meanwhile, Charlie maintained his greasy fried fetish, refusing exercise.... Two years ago, visiting my retired parents in Florida, I heard Mom ask Dad, 'What do you want for breakfast, honey?' — followed by lunch, snack, dinner, dessert. Their lives revolved around the dishes she fixed for him. 'Let’s never be like that,' I whispered to Charlie, who nodded in relief. We felt sure that our usual mealtime [eating separately] was sustainable. Then the [coronavirus lockdown] disintegrat[ed] our food boundaries.... ... I saw how blessed we were to (metaphorically) break bread daily. I felt grateful that we could feed each other. 'What do you want for breakfast, honey?' I asked him this morning, echoing my mother... ... I vowed self-control, respect, staying out of his space...."

From "I had a perfect marriage. Lockdown made us fight about food — constantly/It took years to manage my overeating. The pandemic wrecked all our careful routines," by Susan Shapiro (WaPo).

The highest-rated comment over there: "On a serious note - advice to all married people out there. I lost my wife - quite unexpectedly - to cancer 2 years ago. I can now remember EVERY argument we ever had - and I now realize how stupid they ALL were. The ordinary - IS the extraordinary. Never forget it - and Always remember it."

"The September stampede during the hajj in Saudi Arabia killed at least 2,411 pilgrims... three times the number of deaths acknowledged by the kingdom three months later."

According to a new AP count, "based on state media reports and officials' comments from 36 of the over 180 countries that sent citizens to the hajj." The official Saudi number is still 769. The linked article, in the NYT,  says 2,411 makes this year's disaster "the deadliest in the history of the annual pilgrimage." The previous high was a 1990 stampede that killed 1,426.

So "deadliest in the history of" the hajj, but have there been stampedes — "crush" is really the better word — that have killed more? I don't think so. According to Wikipedia's "List of human crushes," which includes crushes in all settings — including the 1903 fire in the Iroquois Theatre and the 1979 Who concert —the 1990 crush was the previous high. The second highest was only 603 (in the Iroquois Theatre fire) or the Kumbh Mela stampede (at a festival celebrating independence in India) which killed 500 to 800.

So the 1990 hajj crush was already almost twice as big as any other crush in history, and this year's crush was almost twice again as big.

CORRECTION: I did not look closely enough at the separate chart for the 19th century on Wikipedia's list of human crushes. There is, in fact, one more crush, in 1896, and it was larger than the 1990 Mecca stampede: the Khodynka Tragedy, which killed 1389:

Nicholas II was crowned Tsar of Russia on 26 May 1896. Four days later, a banquet was going to be held for the people at Khodynka Field. In the area of one town square, theaters, 150 buffets for distribution of gifts, and 20 pubs were built for the celebrations. Near the celebration square was a field that had a ravine and many gullies. On the evening of 29 May, people who had heard rumours of coronation gifts from the tsar began to gather in anticipation. The gifts which everybody was to receive were a bread roll, a piece of sausage, pretzels, gingerbread, and a commemorative cup. 

At about 5 o'clock in the morning of the celebration day, several thousand people (estimates reached 500,000) were already gathered on the field. Rumours spread among the people that there was not enough beer or pretzels for everybody, and that the enamel cups contained a gold coin. A police force of 1,800 men failed to maintain civil order, and in a catastrophic crush and resulting panic to flee the scene, 1,389 people were trampled to death, and roughly 1,300 were otherwise injured. Most of the victims were trapped in the ditch and were trampled or suffocated there. Despite the tragedy, the program of festivities continued as planned elsewhere on the large field, with many people unaware of what had happened. The Tsar and his wife made an appearance in front of the crowds on the balcony of the Tsar's Pavilion in the middle of the field around 2 p.m. By that time the traces of the incident had been cleaned up.

Correction, part 2: The Russian crush was less than the 1990 Mecca crush. I miscorrected!

Question: "Why is Barack Obama drinking beer at 11am?"

Answer: He's in Bavaria, acting Bavarian.

Angela Merkel... treated him to a full Bavarian breakfast of white sausages, pretzels and foaming lager... Bavarians don’t down a quick pint before heading to the office every morning. It originates in Frühschoppen — a local tradition of meeting for a drink late in the morning on Sundays and holidays. According to Bavarian custom, the sausages cannot be eaten after 12 noon, because no preservatives are used and they are made fresh every day. Therefore those who wish to wash their sausages down with a beer must get supping before that time. The local saying is that the sausages must not be allowed to hear the church bells chime noon.

I have too many Obama tags already and it's too late in The Story of Barack Obama to make an "Obama eats food" tag, so I'm just going with the closest thing I've got. It begins with "Obama eats..." anyway. Too bad I don't have "Obama drinks beer." There was that famous "beer summit" that maybe half of the people have forgotten by now. That would have been the time to create an "Obama drinks beer" tag. So I'm going with "Obama and drugs." Close enough, no?

"Pretzels and free will."

That's the title of a blog post of mine from June 11, 2004. I just feel like reprinting it:

As I was grading bluebooks in the café at Borders today, two little girls sat down at the next table. Each had a glass of water and a package of pretzels.

GIRL A: Tell me a story.

When you make pancakes, "all creativity is disallowed. There are no variations to pancakes."

Says Chip Ahoy in last night's Lavender Café:

Homemade pancakes are like a thick batter. The batter will have milk and flour salt and sugar and probably vanilla. Extrapolate from that. Blueberries bleed and turn the batter a weird color. You can hold off and toss the berries onto the pancake after the batter is poured onto the pan. Very specific ratios must be followed. If the batter is too thick or too thin then adjustments are not allowed. In fact, all creativity is disallowed. There are no variations to pancakes. If you change one single thing, this kitten here get's it.

21 trillion eggs
17 B-52's of milk pasteurized to minus 27 degrees Celsius
1 light year vanilla extract
487 billion salts
18 pretzels
42 giraffes of green and yellow wines
bake for 400 trees and smash flat with a box of toothpicks.

Serves 81 for 18 minutes each. Serve with ratchets and propellers. Surplus can be frozen for 76 years.

I meant to mention, this only works for the little over half of you guys here who live on the planet were twenty trillion dollars in national debt is not a deciding factor in national elections. I heard you guys were here and thought, hey, maybe they'd like some pancakes bon appétit.

Bon appétit! 

The chocolate milk controversy.

Some people think schools shouldn't give kids chocolate milk, but what if it's the only way to get them to drink milk?

Stupidest compromise: Change the sweetener in the chocolate milk from fructose to sucrose.

Additional, non-milk-related controversy:

Jostled by the new politics of school lunch, Fairfax officials have vacillated over other staples. This year, for example, they removed salt from pretzels, but weeks later they were coaxed into putting it back.

You can't remove salt from pretzels. The saltless thing is not a pretzel. It's like serving "regular" milk and calling it chocolate milk.

"For those of you who carry just a wallet, how the heck do you do it?"

Dr. Helen got sick of carrying a purse, but finds it hard to edit down to just a wallet. She asks for advice. I was a staunch purse-avoider for many years. I was over 40 before I started carrying a purse and even then, I did it only some of the time. So I'm almost an expert.

First, get a very slim wallet. Dr. Helen links to the one she bought, and I can see from the picture that it is way too bulky. It's made of thick, pebbly leather and folds over twice. Ugh! This beautifully designed wallet by Comme Des Garcons is the best slim wallet I've ever encountered. Yes, I wish it were cheaper, but it's a beautiful design. When you're wearing pants with decent pockets, you can carry that in one pocket and your keys in the other.

But if you need anything more — cell phone, lipstick — it might get too bulky. A jacket can add some pockets, but the best solution is really a very small purse with a thin shoulder strap. And that's probably more comfortable and free than stuffing things in your pockets. The right kind of tiny purse with your essential things can be put inside a larger handbag, so that it's easy to switch from heavy to light. For example, I love this big bag, and I can put my laptop, papers, multiple pairs of glasses, cameras, books and everything in it, along with the much smaller bag that is easily taken out and used separately.

Finally, don't think so much about how annoying the big bag is. Look at the problem in a positive way. It's interesting to try to figure out ways to do all sorts of things more efficiently. The handbag issue is just one example of the many things in life that could be simplified and improved. It's good to develop your awareness of this and to enjoy thinking creatively about how to become more efficient. For example, think of how encumbered you are by the project of consuming several meals a day — all that shopping, cooking, chewing, cleaning up. The equivalent of the skinny wallet here is the Posh Spice approach to food — no meals, just a restricted set of snack items. Posh has chosen soy beans, pretzels, diet Coke. I think you could put together a much better selection, like maybe smoked almonds, carrots, and latte.

Travel light!

ADDED: Dr. Helen blames women for the lack of pockets in women's clothes. She states that women are "slaves to fashion." Eh. Some are. Some aren't. Here's her evidence:

Try going to the opening of a local Sephora (a make-up store, for those of you who aren’t “in the know”) and watch the parade of women swoon and swarm through the store as if they are on a drug-induced high. Then take a look at the puzzled faces of the men or boys they’ve dragged to the place while they watch the mysterious behavior of these women who are practically foaming at the mouth about make-up and tell me that this fashion — along with a lust for purses — is anything but the desire of the women themselves doing the longing.

But I've been lusting and longing for beautiful women's clothes with well-designed pockets for decades. That doesn't cause it to be in the stores. I think free markets work pretty well, but I still don't believe what is in the stores equates to what we really want.

But I must say, I was in Sephora the other day (to spend $22 for lip balm — "sweet and tart blackcurrant oil cushions the lips with plumping fatty acids"), and the women were in some crazy dream world. One woman raves to another that this cosmetics line is all natural, and the other oohs with excitement and surprise. But some women had in fact dragged men along with them, and way these men looked made me want to slap them back to consciousness and shout at them to get the hell out of there. I'm not saying that men must be very masculine or that there's something wrong with a man who actually wants to go into Sephora and buy something. (They have plenty of men's products, and beautiful salesladies will eagerly help you select great gifts for women.) But these particular men looked as though they had atrophied into mere appendages of women. They were willingly and weakly standing there discussing the women's products. They were placidly accepting their diminished existence. That's how I saw it anyway.

"'I'm sorry, I was hungry' has become a culturally acceptable way to apologize for brusque behavior."

Oh, yeah? Or is this just another topic the NYT editors discovered by reading blogs and whipped into an article that could seem to be about a new topic and then just happen to have a hip blogging angle?

In an age of electronic navel gazing, when people blog about their every emotion, the hunger-mood connection has been able to be fully expressed and, one might say, feed on itself. Thousands have told their cranky hunger stories online, from a famished driver who admitted to cursing at other motorists, to a woman who wrote that her honeymoon might have been an affair to forget had she not packed snacks.

I mean, I can't complain if this is their methodology. My main methodology is to read the NYT and find things to talk about. And then I can weave in some bloggish critique of the dreaded MSM. But about this new social trend of adults excusing themselves for the babyish weakness of losing control when hungry:

A new vocabulary has evolved around victual despair, with the afflicted referring to their nasty moods as "food swings." Those who say their hunger frequently morphs into anger describe themselves as "hangry." And the word "hunger" itself seems to have taken on new meaning. No longer merely a physiological state, it is now also thought of as a mood.... Some people use their hunger as a verbal Get Out of Jail Free card. "Maybe I kind of enjoy the excuse to be cranky," said Fernanda Gilligan, a 28-year-old photo editor from Manhattan. Yet many mercurial eaters do not stop at words. They try to control hunger-provoked dramas by scheduling their lives around their next meal. They stock drawers, purses and briefcases as if they were kitchen cupboards to ensure that sustenance is always within reach. For some, a granola bar has become as essential as a cellphone. Anna Yarbrough, 26, a teacher in Boston, squirrels away nibble-friendly fare like string cheese, pretzels, apples and trail mix in her purse and desk drawer. If she and her husband have late dinner reservations, she snacks beforehand. A recent trip to a Celtics game required eating before tipoff and again when she got home. On her wedding day in October she was relieved to learn that there would be food at the hair salon.

Oh, lord, these people sound annoying. Do you have a cute slang term for getting cranky when people impose too much information about their private physical needs on you? (And do you have a cute slang term for getting cranky at the gratuitous mention of squirrels?) Finally, there's the male-female angle:

In general men do not seem to suffer hunger-related moods as frequently as women do, or at least they are not as likely to admit it.... But why would more women than men be afflicted? "Offhand I can't think of any good, sound biological reason," Dr. Saltzman said. He speculated that the people who say they have food swings are eating smaller meals and therefore need to eat more frequently or that "psychologically they may have a lower threshold" for hunger. Lisa Sasson, a clinical assistant professor in New York University's department of nutrition, food studies and public health, said weight consciousness might explain why more women report hunger-related moodiness..... Dr. Saltzman said food swings may be harder to conquer if they are based not on physical hunger but on "emotional hunger," which is triggered by stress, sadness, depression or even boredom. Emotional hunger is harder to satisfy, he said, because "you can eat and overeat and still not feel sated." [Blogger] Cherie Millns [writes] "My mother told my husband before we got married to make sure he always carried a banana with him, in case of a sudden cranky-pants emergency," Ms. Millns wrote. "It might just save his life."

"Cranky-pants"? Banana? I find that imagery distracting. But anyway, what's wrong with these people? It's one thing to get hungry and to deal with it by eating something, but it's quite another to make a conspicuous production out of it or, worse, to let it become a major issue in your love relationships. And to have your mother tell your husband how to care for you in the very way you'd care for a toddler? Is this really what's going on around America in 2005?

Easter candy controversy.

The Russell Stover candy company is taking some heat for producing a chocolate cross as an Easter candy.

"Obviously they've seen that there's a market for chocolate crosses at Easter," said Lisbeth Echeandia, a consultant for Candy Information Service, which monitors candy-industry trends. "I don't see it growing tremendously, but I think there would be growth in the Christian market." However, not all Christians are happy about it. Chomping on a chocolate cross can be offensive to some, said Joseph McAleer, a spokesman for the Diocese of Bridgeport in Connecticut "The cross should be venerated, not eaten, nor tossed casually in an Easter basket beside the jelly beans and marshmallow Peeps," he said. "It's insulting."

But the point of the Easter candy cross is to satisfy people who think it's offensive to make Easter about rabbits and chicks. And is it wrong to eat a cross? What about the longstanding tradition of hot cross buns? UPDATE: A reader writes:

Not just hot cross buns. What about pretzels, which were designed by monks to resemble arms folded in a traditional prayer posture? Christianity is an incarnational religion. Eating signs of the faith isn't disrespectful. After all, the Eucharist is a preeminent expression of faith. If you can consume God, I can't imagine why you can't nibble on a cross.

Pretzels and free will.

As I was grading bluebooks in the café at Borders today, two little girls sat down at the next table. Each had a glass of water and a package of pretzels.

GIRL A: Tell me a story. 

GIRL B (the older child, in an adult tone of voice): When I was a baby, I loved to look at my mobile. And I slept a lot ...

The girls are both daintily dipping their pretzel sticks in their water before taking bites. They seem to be imitating an adult they have seen dipping a cookie in coffee. A woman sits down at their table and says to Girl B, "I told you about good pretzel manners." Girl A then proceeds to dip her pretzel in water and the woman takes Girl A's water and pretzels away, which the girl thinks is unfair. The girl had assumed that she had the advantage over Girl B for a moment and was free to dip until she was directly told not to.

WOMAN: You heard me tell [Girl B] and you made the decision to disobey.

Girl B still has her pretzels and water, which she now consumes, observing pretzel manners. After a few minutes, she says, "I love pretzels." Girl A immediately says, "I do too," and the subject of whether the woman has treated Girl A fairly continues--"You're being mean"--with the woman absolutely sticking to her decision to keep the pretzels and water from the girl who, after all, "made the decision to disobey," or, more accurately, decided to act on the theory that the general rule did not bind her and that a warning would precede any loss of privilege. The little girl is perhaps 5 years old, and the woman is clearly committed to teaching personal responsibility. As they get up to leave the girl puts her finger on a crumb on the table and pops it in her mouth. With the woman almost out of hearing range, she declares her small victory: "I ate the pretzel crumb!"