memory's outbox
before I forget to tell you...
From an article in the NYTimes.
Recently, I have started to notice pseudo stats. Numbers that seem to imply something profound, but are missing the data that matters. Take the quote above. On first read, the numbers above seem to indicate that ~ 99% of all incumbents win (or at least, that is how I read it). But, that’s not what it says. It says in one percent of elections, an incumbent lost.
Here’s what it doesn’t say: Of all the elections since 1982, how many of those elections involved an incumbent seeking re-election?
Without changing the numbers above, both of the following statements could be true:
A. Incumbents win 99% of the time.
B. Incumbents lose 100% of the time.
If all 2,958 elections involved an incumbent seeking re-election, and the incumbent lost in 39 of those elections, then A is true.
If only 39 of the 2,958 elections involved an incumbent seeking re-election, and all 39 lost, then B is true.
Don’t get me wrong, I am sure the win percentage for incumbents is shockingly high, but the stat above doesn’t get us there. And it scares me that if I had been reading a bit quicker, I’d be trotting out “99% of all incumbents win” at dinner parties when the conversation veered toward the horror show that is Albany.
I first heard Johnny Cash’s version of Hurt on a mix that Luke made for me. I was driving down Falls Road in Baltimore and just about stopped the car.
This isn’t a memory… I was born 6 months later, but I want this shirt.
Supposedly, 25,134fans drank 60,000 beers. Pandemonium ensued.
It all started when a drunk Indians fan attempted to steal Texas outfielder Jeff Burroughs’ cap. From an entry in Wikipedia:
“Confronting the fan, Burroughs tripped, and Texas manager Billy Martin, thinking that Burroughs had been attacked, charged onto the field, his players right behind, some wielding bats. A large number of intoxicated fans – some armed with knives, chains, and portions of stadium seats that they had torn apart – surged onto the field, and others hurled bottles from the stands… Realizing that the Rangers’ lives might be in danger, Ken Aspromonte, the Indians’ manager, ordered his players to grab bats and help the Rangers.”
My favorite part is that all of the bases were stolen during the riot (and were never returned).
Soundwave holds a special place in my consciousness.
Am I making it up or did he actually have an actual transforming tape that fit into the cassette deck?
** Google Search **
Hmmm… according to Wikipedia, there were several micro-cassettes Buzzsaw, Laserbeak, Ravage, Rumble, Frenzy, and Ratbat.
(via dens)
Another legend of my youth and, unlike the Lancer, I spent untold hours at the Record Exchange recycling my music collection, bringing in CDs I no longer wanted and receiving credit which I could use to buy albums I coveted. We still call it the “Record Exchange” though it has gone through many name changes and is now the CD and Game Exchange.
Photo circa 1985 courtesy of The Cleveland Memory Project.
The Lancer was a legend (certainly in my mind, and by the looks of all the cars parked akimbo on Saturday nights, in real life as well). About half way between downtown Cleveland and my home on the east side, it was one of the only remarkable things on my travels down the Carnegie corridor.
For me, Carnegie was a way to get home from downtown or the airport. It was a liminal place. The Lancer, was a waypost, a mark that I was half way home.
A visit to the Lancer has been on my list of Cleveland holiday visit to-dos forever, sitting just north or south of a stop by the The House of Swing (Where Jazz is King!) another legend from my youth, and a place I only saw from car windows.
I never got to go to the Lancer. I’m gonna go to the House of Swing next time I am home.
ps. Check out the large version of this photo, taken by Cleveland SGS. Stunning.
Reminiscing about iconic images and characters from my childhood that I had forgotten about.
The buzzard from 100.7 WMMS
The question he is answering is, “What do you want to do before you die?”
The answers are then streamed on a screen just outside this photo to the left.
It’s an ad for The Buried Life on MTv. I passed this somewhere in the mid-forties on 5th avenue on my way to lunch.
