With home-based devices, for some people, it's all about convenience and nothing else. They want to save time when they get home from work in the evening or to avoid using up half their weekend in the garden trying to develop green fingers. For other people, they enjoy trying out different smart devices to see what works well and upgrading to better models as they're released. Then there are the pragmatists who don't love technology per se but embrace technology as a reality and try to get the best mix of features for the price.
Knowing what kind of technology person you are will avoid disappointment when sizing up what home devices to buy and the ones to leave until the new version comes out. Which ones to buy and those to skip altogether as too clever for their own good is an important consideration too.
Let's now look at a few types of devices for the home that are useful for homeowners.
Different software companies and manufacturers have put together their own smart home systems. Some manufacturers have created a series of products that can all communicate together and work as one. Others have chosen the standalone approach, which is less successful.
A later innovation in the Internet of Things is for software and technology brands to create a software platform that manufacturers can sign up to. Approaching it this way makes it possible to expand the list of devices that are compatible with a certain platform. Therefore, while Samsung has their SmartThings platform, there's a growing list of alarms, lights, sensors, video cameras and other systems that work on specific software platforms like Amazon Alexa or Apple HomeKit.
At present, if you're planning to own several different smart home devices over time, then for the ones that network together and work cooperatively (door locks and alarm systems, for instance), you're better off picking a single platform and sticking to it. For iPhone and iPad users, the Apple HomeKit-based devices make a lot of sense. For Amazon customers, the Alexa-compatible devices are interesting. People who love everything Samsung could buy into their SmartThings platform, but it's likely to be more limited in scope and product range.
The time of the wireless smart door lock has come. They're now in their 2nd, 3rd or fourth iteration which has helped to iron out the bugs, fix any security issues, and provide different approaches to the home security arena.
Smart locks work in a variety of ways depending both on the features of the lock itself or the system they're connected to. Some may use an NFC, Bluetooth or Wi-Fi connection to confirm the identity of the person who's approached the door; a smartphone is often enough to unlock your front door. Other systems include a physical numeric keypad, a fingerprint sensor or have dual protection with a non-internet connected deadbolt for the more security conscious homeowner.
While a lock may go through its unlocking procedure, some like the Schlage Smart Lock will connect to their Schlage house alarm system too. There are enough locks that don't have a keyhole to pick at all; they're touch-based instead.
Locks will often have an app to control them that runs on iOS or Android. They may also integrate with a larger set of home devices produced under the same brand. Beyond that, they'll be marketed as "works with" a home brand like Amazon Alexa, Samsung SmartThings or Apple HomeKit. Not every lock is made to work with all mobile platforms or home systems either. You must pick the best from the ones which are compatible with your existing home system or the whole system you're putting into place now.
Putting CCTV in your home or on the entrances and exits is a good preventative measure. It works for offices and just as well for residential homes too. With CCTV installation, which you can get done using CCTV installers like ACCL if you're around the London area, they can be completed efficiently without creating debris to clean up after the CCTV installers have left.
Some cameras run wirelessly and share a live feed over the internet via a secure login whereas as some keep the cameras strictly closed circuit. When there are cameras going into secure areas or private areas, then this could be preferred in the age of huge data break-ins happening at major firms left and right. When using a cabled, wired network of CCTV cameras, no one sees the images but you unless you want them too. This provides a greater level of privacy for people who care about that sort of thing.
A robotic vacuum is a next level in not losing part of the weekend to various chores around the house. The robotic vacuum roams around the floor doing the vacuuming for you. Some of them accept voice commands, like the EcoVacs Deebot N79 which plays nice with Amazon's Alexa voice command system. They offer different suctions levels for improved cleaning, but the battery gets drained faster that way. Most models have a return-to-base feature where they can go back to their charging unit before they run out of juice.
Robotic vacuums are not perfect. They will struggle to go over bumps in the carpet and won't climb up the stairs to do the upper levels too. Pet hair is a bit rough for them, but they do accept a modest amount unless you have a dog that molts all day. Their navigation is provided via sensors that learn where the furniture is and avoid the walls. However, they do still bump off furniture at times, so a home with antiques shouldn't have a robotic vacuum. While you'll still need to dust and perform other cleaning tasks, pushing the vacuum around the floor each weekend is one chore you can minimize or remove entirely from your chores list.
For people with gardens, the other time saver is a robotic lawnmower. Long gone are the days where you have to risk your toes with a manual lawn mower; now you can set a robotic mower on its way and it'll do the job for you.
Robotic lawn mowers work by trimming a minor amount. They move around and chop a little more and move off. Some are better at climbing up inclines or dealing with uneven terrain than others. The battery also makes a big difference to the cutting time because the mower needs recharging sooner.
While you still need to use a trimmer to cut the edges of the lawn to make it look proper and not overshadow the plant life, you can save 30-60 minutes every weekend with a robotic mower, which really adds up over the years. They're pricey though, so it's a real investment in buying back your free time.
There are numerous home devices that can take the stress out of performing chores, improve security or give you remote access over the web to things you previously had to be there to do yourself. Being able to unlock the front door for a friend who's coming over when you're running late or using energy-efficient smart light bulbs to turn the lights on and off when you're on holiday is cool. It also has a practical application too. Whilst homes are just fine without smart devices, their addition provides new options for homeowners who wish to go the extra mile.


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After overcoming addiction and exiting homelessness, Leroy Ambrose takes on kidney disease with a positive outlook
Leroy Ambrose says he is healthier and happier than he's ever been."Having kidney failure was the best thing that ever happened to me," he says.
While not the typical response to a chronic health condition, Leroy comes from the perspective of someone who experienced years of homelessness and survived addiction.
As one of the 850 million people globally with kidney disease, Leroy wants to help others if he can, by sharing his story with the hope that it may influence others to reach out for help.
"The people at Northwest Kidney Centers have changed my attitude about life, he says. "Without them, I wouldn't be alive. Now I love myself and I want to help other people avoid or get out of a similar path."
A child of alcoholic parents, Leroy began to drink and use drugs as a teen. Despite what successes he had, Leroy says he never felt like he fit in with society, and every time life dealt him a blow, he'd return to the streets and the crowd that he knew. Over the years, he spent time in jail, overdosed and attempted suicide, and experienced homelessness.
Then, about 18 months ago, Leroy was given the diagnosis of kidney disease after falling ill and being hospitalized. He wasn't ready to hear the message, however, and quickly left the facility, refusing his first appointment with Northwest Kidney Centers.
But just six months later, Leroy woke up in the hospital with a catheter for dialysis in his chest and a diagnosis of kidney failure. A nurse told him that he hadn't been expected to survive and that his last rites had been performed in case he didn't wake up.
After this harrowing experience, Leroy became a regular patient at Northwest Kidney Centers. He credits the staff and care of Northwest Kidney Centers with helping him become healthier and happier than he's ever been.
"The people caring for me were like family. They taught me how to eat better and how to exercise. They helped me find my own place to live. Now I pay rent. I pay bills," he says with pride. "I never thought I'd be able to pay any bills."
"We see a lot of folks who come to us very sick and aren't able to battle their addictions at the same time as adapting to dialysis. Leroy has been a role model and a wonder," says Beth Shanaman, a registered dietitian at Northwest Kidney Centers who works closely with Leroy and enjoys his positive outlook.
During the years he was homeless, Leroy says he was never able to save money. Since then he was able to save enough to buy his first pet, Kona, a lab and pit-bull mix, as well as the necessary food and supplies.
These days Leroy looks forward to coming in for dialysis treatments. "I may have kidney failure, but I'm healthier than I've ever been."
"We are so thrilled for him," says Shanaman.
More recently Leroy has been working with staff members at his unit to explore vocational opportunities that are available to him.
He sums up his new outlook on life like this: "There isn't anything I can't do if I put my mind to it."

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


Zip across the water with the CIS Frigate 2.4GHz RTR Electric RC Boat. This amazing RC boat is only 6.1 inches long and can fit in the palm of your hand! It's extremely detailed and fast for it's size! When not on the water this RC boat is kept safe and sound charging in its own clear display box. When you're ready to race your friends take out the 2.4GHz transmitter and the RC boat without worrying about any frequency interference while racing more than one RC. Make a big splash with the CIS Frigate 2.4GHz RTR Electric RC Boat today!


St George Illawarra Dragons second-rower Will Matthews will be aiming to impress when he competes in the traditional Charity Shield fixture at ANZ Stadium, Olympic Park on Saturday.
The Kyogle Turkeys junior has been named in the back-row and will partner utility Jake Marketo due to both Tyson Frizell (back) and Joel Thompson (NRL Indigenous All-Stars) being unavailable for the annual trial.
Matthews was involved in the trial fixture against the Wynnum-Manly Seagulls over the weekend and is happy to have had the opportunity to gain valuable minutes during the encounter.
He admits he hopes to get a few more minutes as he recovers from off-season shoulder surgery and will be using the upcoming fixture as a chance to make his mark in front of the coaching staff.
"It was a good first hit out against the Seagulls and even though we won it still proved to be a very physical game," said Matthews.
"It's been a while since I had an actual game under my belt so it was good to get a few more minutes as I get ready for the Charity Shield.
"We currently have a couple of injuries at the moment with players also involved with the NRL All-Stars match so there will be a few boys including myself trying to impress the coaches.


We've just pushed out an update for the NatureMapr app on both iPhone and Android. It should be available within the next 24 - 48 hours.
This update is an important stability update that addresses minor crash reports on some devices. Please make sure you install it!


GF1 Security Services offers ministry-approved security training and a full range of reliable security service options for businesses, properties, and events in Ontario, including Toronto, Mississauga, Brampton, Scarborough, Malton and the GTA.
GF1 Security Services Inc. was founded in 2009 by Kul Bassi and Raj Khanna as a brainchild of two entrepreneurs who each have a diverse experience in the security industry and a firsthand knowledge of how the industry functions.
Kul Bassi, one of the founders, has more than 15 years' experience in the security industry. With his business background, Kul has brought a wealth of knowledge and experience to the organization.
Raj Khanna, co-founder of GF1 Security Services Inc. also comes from a business background, and has vast experience in sales and marketing. Raj also has 10 years of experience in the security industry, in training and managing.
Our goal is to take our industry to a new high. We accept challenges and dare to meet them.
We know the ins and outs, what works and what doesn't – and, most importantly, how to ensure the safety of your facilities and your people.
Our business model is simple: We provide reliable, quality services with the utmost dedication at the most competitive rates.
Our team of experienced, professional staff and security guards are committed to your safety, with services that are unparalleled in the industry, and backed a promise of your satisfaction.
Through our ministry-approved programs, we develop reliable, confident security guards, prepared to manage any type of security issue.
At GF1 Security Services, our primary focus is always on prevention and safety. Our security guards are trained to understand human behavior, avoid altercations, de-escalate arguments, and deal with incidents in a professional manner ethically, and with clear, direct communication.


The Pennsylvania Constitution requires the General Assembly to meet on the first Tuesday in January each year. The January after a legislative election, newly elected and returning members of the General Assembly take their oath of office.
On January 6, 2015 five members of the Senate and thirteen members of the House who took the oath of office were also members of CAP.


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Manhattan Graduates See High Return on Investment According to Survey that Assesses the Value of College Degrees
Payscale.com 2013 College Education ROI Ranking lists Manhattan College at 32 out of more than 1,500 institutions nationwide.
For the fourth year in a row, Manhattan College ranked in the top 40 for providing graduates with a high return on their investment. In the 2013 Payscale.com College Return on Investment (ROI) ranking, the College is listed at No. 32 among more than 1,500 U.S. colleges and universities.
"At a time when students and families are asking hard — and appropriate — questions about the value of a College education, Manhattan College can point to a long and continuing history of excellent return on investment," said President Brennan O'Donnell, Ph.D. "Our annual presence at the top of this list testifies to our success in combining excellence in the liberal arts with rigorous preparation for the world of work."
Payscale.com reported that Manhattan College graduates receive a 30-year ROI of more than $1.2 million. The ROI figures are calculated by comparing a college graduate's earnings, the total cost of a college education, and foregone wages from choosing to attend college. The ranking also cited the College for an impressive 9.3 percent annual ROI when accounting for financial aid.
The data used for the 2013 ranking was collected from alumni who successfully completed Payscale.com's employee survey. To read more about Payscale.com's methodology, visit their website.
MC Staff Wednesday, May 08, 2013 12:23 AM
Academics,
Alumni,
5 Tips to Land Your Dream Job or Internship
Pete McHugh
peter.mchugh@manhattan.edu


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Exide to remain Autodistribution's main battery supplier
Exide Technologies has renewed its supplier agreement with Autodistribution International Ltd. (ADI), the largest aftarmarket parts distribution network in Europe.
Exide began supplying the Autodistribution network in France in the mid-eighties. Exide's Transportation Business Group will be supplying a range of products to ADI, including batteries and MAXXIMA-branded products. The batteries are marketed under the AD private label, along with the Exide, Fulmen and Tudor labels.
"Autodistribution International sells more than two million batteries every year across Europe, and Exide is our main supplier, said Omer Wesemael, General Manager, Autodistribution International Ltd. The company, established in 1970, is based in Brussels. Through its 16 national partners, ADI represents more than 600 automotive wholesale businesses, with a network of some 2,000 wholesale outlets through 21 countries that serve a market of 192 million cars.
ADI is perhaps best known in the UK for its ill-fated acquisition of the now liquidated Finelist factor chain.


To be an artist is to have a particular orientation to the world — the interior world and the exterior world — the exact composition of which is somewhat like temperature, impossible to deconstruct into individual phenomenological components without ceasing to be itself.
Maria Popova writes in such a poetic way. Every sentence is always dense. Braining Pickings is a treasure to the internet.


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Personalized Medicines Mean Faster Treatments for Cancer Patients
Home » Clinical Trials » Personalized Medicines Mean Faster Treatments for Cancer Patients
In April of 2003, the U.S. National Human Genome Research Institute (NHGRI) announced that it had mapped 99 percent of a human genome, ushering in the possibility of a new age of medicine.
Reflecting on the significance of the event, Francis Collins, M.D., Ph.D., then the director of NHGRI, predicted that it would someday "give health care providers immense new powers to treat, prevent and cure disease" by helping them confirm whether a treatment is likely to work for a given patient before the treatment is actually prescribed. This kind of "personalized" medicine can help patients get on effective treatment regimens faster, and avoid the expenses associated with treatments that do not end up helping them.
Personalized medicines
Today, patients have more opportunities than ever to participate in clinical trials for personalized medicines.
According to the Tufts Center for the Study of Drug Development, 42 percent of all medicines being developed are associated with personalized medicine strategies.
When it comes to cancer medicines, the number is even higher with potential personalized medicines representing 73 percent of the drugs being tested in that area. Because these treatments zero in on genes expressed only by cancer cells, they are often safer and more effective than chemotherapy, which kills both cancerous and healthy cells.
The Tufts' study, which was conducted in 2015, also showed that researchers working to develop new drugs believed the number of personalized medicines in development would increase further by 69 percent by the year 2020.
By participating in clinical trials for personalized medicines, patients can help bring about a new era in medicine where physicians more commonly use molecular tests to determine which medical treatments will work best for each patient. By combining the data from those tests with an individual's medical history, circumstances and values, health care providers will be able to develop targeted treatment and prevention plans and thereby move away from the one-size-fits all or trial-and-error medicine usually practiced today.
Edward Abrahams, President, Personalized Medicine Coalition, [email protected]


Whisk flour, cinnamon, BP, salt, and oats in large bowl. Add nuts, coconut, raisins, and carrots.
In small bowl mix maple syrup, coconut oil, vanilla, ginger.
Add wet to dry ingredients and stir until well combined.
Place 1 Tbsp cookies onto a lined baking sheet and flatten with a fork.


Directions to property: St. Rt. 82 to North on Elm Rd NE/State Route 5. Property is on the left.
3473 State Route 5, Cortland, Ohio 44410, U.S.A.
St. Rt. 82 to North on Elm Rd NE/State Route 5. Property is on the left.
Commercial Property for Sale on a Main High Traffic Road in Bazetta Township! Great Business Opportunity as units are already producing income. This unique property currently has an 8,000 SF Auto Repair Shop with a Large Reception Area, 7 Offices, Restroom and a Loft to oversee operations. Other half of the building built in 1989 with a Block dividing wall, consists of Retail space and a spacious recently remodeled beautiful Apartment upstairs, ready to Rent or for you to live in! Apartment has a huge Great Room, fabulous Kitchen with appliances and plenty of cabinets, beautiful Hickory Hardwood floor, Dining Room/Bonus Room, Bedroom, walk in closet, Full Bath, Laundry Room and a Spacious Deck out back with rear driveway access. Total of 4 units currently, Electric and Gas all on separate meters and 2 more could be possibly added, the upstairs apartment is vacant just waiting for the new owner! Has endless possibilities with additional Vacant Lot, just use your imagination. This property is a must see, call for your private showing!


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Four Passengers' IDs Being Checked on Missing Jet
Malaysia intelligence agencies are investigating how up to four passengers with suspect identities were able to board the missing Boeing 777 jet, the government said, as planes and ships from across Asia resumed the hunt Sunday for the plane.
There was still no confirmed sighting of wreckage from the Boeing 777 in the seas between Malaysia and Vietnam where it vanished from screens early Saturday morning en route to Beijing from Kuala Lumpur with 239 people on board. The weather was fine, the plane was already cruising and the pilots had no time to send a distress signal — unusual circumstance for a modern jetliner to crash.
On Saturday, the foreign ministries in Italy and Austria said the names of two citizens listed on the flight's manifest matched the names on two passports reported stolen in Thailand.
This, and the sudden disappearance of the plane that experts say is consistent with a possible onboard explosion, strengthened existing concerns about terrorism as a possible cause for the disappearance. Al-Qaida militants have used similar tactics to try and disguise their identities.
On Sunday, Malaysian Transport Minister Hishammuddin Hussein said that authorities were now looking at four possible cases of suspect identities. He said Malaysian intelligence agencies were in contact with their international counterparts, including the FBI.
"All the four names are with me and have been given to our intelligence agencies," he said. "We do not want to target only the four; we are investigating the whole passenger manifest. We are looking at all possibilities."
Li Jiaxiang, administrator of the Civil Aviation Administration of China, said some debris had been spotted, but it was unclear whether it came from the plane. Vietnamese authorities said they had seen nothing close to two large oil slicks they saw Saturday and said might be from the missing plane.
Two-thirds of the jet's passengers were from China. The rest were from elsewhere in Asia, North America and Europe.
Malaysia's civil aviation chief Azaharuddin Abdul Rahman said his country had expanded its area of operation to the coast of peninsular Malaysia, on the other side of the country from where the plane disappeared.
"We are looking at the possibility of an aircraft air turn back, in which case different locations will have to be identified," Hishammuddin said.
Finding traces of an aircraft that disappears over sea can take days or longer, even with a sustained search effort. Depending on the circumstances of the crash, wreckage can be scattered over many square kilometers (miles). If the plane enters the water before breaking up, there can be relatively little debris.
A team of American experts was en route to Asia to be ready to assist in the investigation into the crash. The team includes accident investigators from National Transportation Safety Board, as well as technical experts from the Federal Aviation Administration and Boeing, the safety board said in a statement.
Malaysia Airlines has a good safety record, as does the 777, which had not had a fatal crash in its 19-year history until an Asiana Airlines plane crashed last July in San Francisco, killing three passengers, all teenagers from China.
Investigators will need access to the flight data recorders to determine what happened.
Aviation and terrorism experts said revelations about stolen passports would strengthen speculation of foul play. They also acknowledged other scenarios, including some catastrophic failure of the engines or structure of the plane, extreme turbulence or pilot error or even suicide, were also possible.
Prof. Jason Middleton, the head of the Sydney-based University of New South Wales' School of Aviation, said terrorism or some other form of foul play seemed a likely explanation.
"You're looking at some highly unexpected thing, and the only ones people can think of are basically foul play, being either a bomb or some immediate incapacitating of the pilots by someone doing the wrong thing and that might lead to an airplane going straight into the ocean," Middleton said on Sunday. "With two stolen passports (on board), you'd have to suspect that that's one of the likely options."
Just 9 percent of fatal accidents happen when a plane is at cruising altitude, according to a statistical summary of commercial jet accidents done by Boeing. Malaysia Airlines CEO Ahmad Jauhari Yahya said Saturday there was no indication the pilots had sent a distress signal.
The plane was last inspected 10 days ago and found to be "in proper condition," Ignatius Ong, CEO of Malaysia Airlines subsidiary Firefly airlines, said at a news conference.
Greg Barton, a professor of international politics at Australia's Monash University and a terrorism expert, said if the disaster was the result of terrorism, there is no obvious suspect. If it was terrorism, Barton expected China would be quick to blame separatists from the ethnic Uighur minority, as authorities did recently when 29 people were killed in knife attacks at a train station in the southern city of Kunming.
"If a group like that is behind it, then suddenly they've got a capacity that we didn't know they had before, they've executed it very well — that's very scary," Barton told AP. "It's safe to start with the assumption that that's not very likely, but possible."
Stay up to date on all the latest World news with The New Indian Express App. Download now


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"Temps have been fluctuating… Warm with some melting snow last Wednesday and Thursday and then cold Friday. The weekend forecast was seasonable – around 30°F with some snow showers, with Wintry weather forecast after that. See forecast below.


I am a homeowner and business owner who resides in Leimert park. I am President/CEO of Emerald Urban Development and real estate development company.
Exercising, reading, traveling, jazz concert, museums, plays, dance productions, and community improvement.


Erythroplakia: Rare condition which is most likely to develop into a malignancy, as it is associated with histologic premalignant changes.
Def: Lesions of the oral mucosa that present as bright red velvety plaques which cannot be characterized clinically or pathologically as any other condition.
Almost all true erythroplakias demonstrate significant epithelial dysplasia, carcinoma in situ, or invasive squamous cell carcinoma.
Prevalence Rate of Erythroplakia is estimated as 1 per 2500 adults.
But suspected to be same as those associated with invasive squamous cell carcinoma of the mouth.
Erythroplakia is seen mostly in Older Men – 65 to 74 years of age.
Unknown Etiology and seems alcohol abuse and smoking are important etiological factors.
Lack of keratin production by epithelium and is Atrophic, but maybe Hyperplastic. Lack of keratin n thin epithelium shows the underlying microvasculature causing the red colour.
To Demonstrate Erythroplakia from other conditions 1% Toulidine Blue solution is applied, which helps to detect epithelial dysplasia.
Biopsy to be done if the lesion still persists.
gross description: received single grey white tissue bit measuring 0.1cms.
entire tissue processed-single block submitted.
microscopy:section from the specimen show hyperplastic and hyperkeratotic squamous epithelium with focal ulceration af the surface.
ulcer aria shows ischemic necrisis.
there is no cytological atypia.
scattered mild lymphocytes are seen.
submucosal stroma shows plenty of small congested capillaries.
there is no evidence of dysplasia/ malignancy in the sample submitted.


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Forty Bucks and A Dream: Stories of Los Angeles. Chapter 13: SANCTUARY: Days and Nights at the King Edward Saloon
I am serializing Forty Bucks and A Dream: Stories of Los Angeles on Substack. New chapters drop Mondays. Below is the Table of Contents, with links to what's posted before. Eagle-eyed readers will notice I have skipped over Chapter 12. There are reasons. I'll include it in the printed version and/or send to paid subscribers if that number reaches, appropriately, XXX.
SANCTUARY: Days and nights at the King Edward Saloon
FRIDAY, 2 P.M. LOS ANGELES AND FIFTH STREETS. Shoppers, six deep on the sidewalk, cramming in and out of discount clothing, toy and tool shops, bumping past roast-corn vendors and the indigent, who offer to watch parked cars for a little something, anything at all. Buses and cars and baby strollers race to beat the light, delivery trucks jam up the alley and lay on their horns, people yell and push, so much humanity, too much movement.
Tune out the picture; turn off the sound. Head into the King Edward Saloon, situated beneath the 110-year-old landmark hotel-turned-SRO the King Edward. Except for the seven muted televisions showing old movies, and a little Roy Orbison on the jukebox, King Eddy's is quiet. The weak light coming through the windows makes it hard to see people's faces. Slowly, one side of the long bar comes into relief. A dozen men, drinking alone or in pairs, sit so silent and still they could be made of wax. There's a bodybuilder gone to fat, a loose tank top showing what were his pecs; a thin African in a dusty blue blazer; a few truckers; a handful of men over sixty with Dust Bowl faces, sunken cheeks and thousand-yard stares.
Take a seat at the other side of the bar, where a livelier group who look as though they might have a few bucks in their pockets, discuss the political situation. Look to the short end of the bar, where a fifty-year-old woman with a blond bob and the leathery complexion of someone who drinks steadily is animatedly making a point.
"Let me tell you something," she says, getting off her stool and gesturing broadly to her drinking companion, a portly man who looks amused by her vigor. Catch the attention of the bartender, Jim Hill, who has a Mephistophelean goatee and twinkly eyes.
"Always happy to see a pretty lady," Jim says, setting up a shot of tequila and a beer back. Two bucks.
"That's on me," says a seventy-year-old gentleman, making it known he appreciates the company. It's nice to have someone new to tell his story to.
"I live down here now, see," the gentleman says. He means upstairs, in the King Edward, where a room with a bath runs $266 a month. "I worked forty years, I had a wife. A couple of years ago, she gives me the 'It's the bottle or me' ultimatum," he says, signaling for another round, letting his hand wander over his new friend's shoulder. "Actually, what she said was, I could stay if I just kept drinking beer."
He picks up his glass of bourbon and smiles into it. "I made my choice. The house is paid for, she's got a good life, and I have what I want."
Another round appears, and another, too many to keep up with, flying from all sides of the bar. Any woman under age forty-five cannot buy her own drink at King Eddy's; she could have a hair growing out of the end of her nose and still be cause for celebration.
"It's good to see you. Haven't seen you in a while," says J.J., a small, dark man who looks as though he'd like to dance to the Harry James tune that's just come on. J.J.'s 55 if he's a day, he's alone, he has nothing to lose. "Yes," he says. "I want you so much."
Try to make it to the bathroom, at the far, dark end of the room, where a group of regulars who don't appear to speak English sit for hours at a stretch. On the bar in front of them is the key to the ladies' room, attached to a wooden dowel. One of them hands off the key as soon as a woman in need appears. It's a generous, wordless gesture, transacted with the winks and smiles and little laughs that, to the inebriated, speak volumes.
Exit the bathroom. "You don't love me anymore," J.J. says, looking dejected. A middle-aged woman near him suggests a comeback to that particular line.
"When someone says that to you, say, 'I don't love you any less,'" she says. Her voice is sandy. It's a good line.
"At least I'm good for something," she says.
Go back to the well-lit side of the bar. Continue a conversation with bartender Jim, who lives upstairs but is originally from Texas, and has a few choice words about the Bush boys, "whose daddy bailed them out of everything they ever done." Two minutes later, the advice lady is back. One eye and cheek are puffed up and tender, and a tube pokes from beneath the bandages around her throat.
"Now, if anyone says to you, 'Had enough?' you say, 'I never have enough.'" She stands mute for a few seconds, then walks back to her stool.
Stay until dark. Exit onto a scene the opposite of earlier in the day: a completely empty street, except for the homeless setting up their tents and boxes.
FRIDAY, 7 P.M. "HEY, BILL," SAYS LIZ, RACING INTO King Eddy's like a spark, her waffle-weave shirt reading The Bar Feeders, her platinum-and-pink hair rolled into pixie cones.
"Hey, kid," says manager and bartender Bill Roller, pulling her a draft beer.
An artist and singer for the punk band Tongue, Liz lives around the corner in the Canadian, a building of lofts inhabited mostly by artists. When she drinks, it's usually at King Eddy's.
"It's the cleanest bar downtown," she says. "You can't walk into some places without someone trying to stick a needle in your arm."
A shabby black guy comes through the door, approaching Liz with a request that doesn't get past his lips before Bill tells him to, "Keep walking, keep walking." The guy leaves.
"That guy, he's always trying to get you to buy him a beer," Liz says. "So we buy him a beer one night. Then he asks for money for the jukebox, so we give that to him, and he goes over and plays what he thinks is 'white music,' then he comes back and wants a tip for playing this white music."
Liz's friend Dez, a guitarist and singer for an early version of Black Flag, arrives. Yes, King Eddy's is their favorite bar, but it's also close and, since neither has a car (Dez has never driven), accessible.
"And it opens at six in the morning," says Dez, who lives within walking distance.
A few of their pals arrive. They take one of the countertop tables against the far wall.
"First round's taken care of, kids," Bill says, handing over a pitcher. They haven't been in the bar three minutes. Who paid?
"I seen you in here earlier, and you didn't let me buy you those beers," says an old-time cowboy, the kind with no ass to hold up his Wranglers, a permanent cigarette in his mouth and a face as cracked as parched mud.
"How about you let us buy you a drink?" Liz says.
"Young lady, you kids will not ever have the kind of money I have," Cowboy says, and pays for the next round, too, before going back to his buddies, all the while keeping an eye out so not one drop gets drunk that he hasn't paid for.
It's a busy night at King Eddy's. The V.A. checks have come in the day before, so the veterans, who make up a sizable portion of the clientele, are feeling flush. The mood is festive, there's noise and movement from all sides of the room; red, green and yellow party lights give color to the old cheeks.
Cowboy sidles up to Liz and a friend. "You girls want to make $150, $200 an hour?"
"Uh . . . sure," Liz says, smiling and walking the next round of drinks back to the table.
Seeing the men-folk there, Cowboy pulls up a little short. "How's about all you guys want to work this weekend?"
"What do we have to do?" Dez asks.
"What we're gonna do is, I'll fly you all out to Vegas tomorrow, and you'll work all weekend," Cowboy says. It's not possible to tell whether he's serious or making this up on the spot. "All you have to do is walk up and down the street, just back and forth, and I'll give you two-hundred-and-fifty dollars each for the day."
Like extra work?
"Yeah, that's what it is. I make movies, videos. We're about to do another one, in Africa," Cowboy says, pulling out a business card. "I'm staying out here in my motor home tonight, but I'm leaving tomorrow. Here, take down these numbers." He rattles off the numbers to his cell, his pager, his office, his mobile. He makes Liz write them on a napkin, then read them back to him. "That's it. You want to do it, you have to call me by eight a.m."
A few minutes later the napkin falls on the floor, where it's run over by a battery-operated scooter. The woman with the blond bob, who lives in a hotel room across the street, is in high spirits, looking sharp in a black motorcycle jacket and revving her new toy across the floor. When it crashes into Liz's foot for the fifth time, Blondie comes in close and peers into Liz's face.
"She's about twelve!" Blondie shouts.
"It's her twenty-ninth birthday," Dez says.
Blondie arches her eyebrows as high as they'll go and puts her hands on her hips. "I don't think so," she scolds, walking to the pay phone on the wall, pretending to alert the authorities to the fact that there are minors drinking at King Eddy's.
"And him," she squeals, pointing at Liz's friend Din. "He's about nineteen, and oh my god," she says, making hubba-hubba eyes, "look how handsome." She begins to moon extravagantly over Din, telling him she's going to take him away from his girlfriend; his girlfriend tells her to give it her best shot, and by the way, what's her name?
"I'll only tell him," she says, cupping her hand over Din's ear and leaning into him for a solid minute. Blondie stays around for a drink before taking her scooter for a spin on the other side of the bar.
"What was her name, anyway?" Liz asks.
"I don't know," Din says. "All she did was breathe in my ear."
SATURDAY, 9 P.M. WINTER AND JIMMY, WHO LIVE ON MAIN and Seventh, come in with their friend Brittany, who has a loft in Bunker Hill but has never been to King Eddy's. Winter designs for Trashy Lingerie, Jimmy's a musician who played with the original Avengers and Chris Isaak's band, and Brittany's a porn star, which is sort of apparent from her enormous tits, though her outfit is comparatively toned down, a pair of faded jeans and a tiny navy midriff.
"More or less, I produce, direct and write pornos," Brittany says. "Then I have Internet sales. I'm also a porn-star-slash-model and actress. And I give blowjobs for a living." She laughs like Fran Drescher. How many films has she done?
"Oh, jeepers, it's mostly soft-core, but over four hundred."
Jimmy leans in and whispers, "Did you get that jeepers?"
"I was raised in Milwaukee, but I have like one friend that lives there who's a Christian with seven kids, and I send her money," Brittany says. "Along with everybody else in my family."
She and Winter talk about the exigencies of bleaching their hair blond.
"I'm really a redhead," Winter says, edging her pants over her hipbones, showing a wisp of orange pubic hair. "This part, I've never waxed, it's my teenage hair. The rest, all around, grows in black, but I leave this virginal."
She tells Brittany about a new look she's been doing. "First thing you gotta do is come up with your cholita name -- mine's Chuchi Loca. Then you go get yourself a gold necklace with the name in script. Then you get white eye shadow. Then we go to all these foofy fucking clubs in Hollywood, and say, 'Fuck you. What are you looking at?' It's all about the wife-beater and the Dickies hanging down and your thong hanging out. It's all about the Snoop Dogg thang."
"I got big tits, so I gotta do something with the tits," Brittany says.
"It's not a gangbanger look, it's a little hometown, a little Hollywood. Oh, and nails -- nails are big. And tattoos. The best tattoos are the ones you get from the supermarket vending machines. 'Laugh Now, Cry Later.' Or you get your boyfriend's name tattooed across your neck."
"Or around your asshole. 'Property of Big Bob.'"
"Believe it or not, I've never done it in the ass," Winter says.
"Man, I get raped in the ass for hours," Brittany says. "Seymour Butts, this porn producer who does all anal, his girls get 'Seymour Butts' tattooed across their asses."
"At Trashy, I made so many dresses for this bitch that had to have the ass cut out so you could see her tattoo, 'Property of Seymour Butts,'" Winter says.
Back to the breasts: Brittany doesn't like hers. She was twenty when she had them done and they're too big.
"I have to spend twenty thousand to have them redone," she says. "They're so huge, they're four inches lower than they're supposed to be. They're bigger than my fucking head. I don't have any scars because they did it through my belly button, but to reduce them they have to take off my nipples. I fucking hate them. They're too big."
She leans over and lets them drop out of her top: At this angle, they look nice and smooth. Tan.
"I just want to go down to a D," she says. "I don't want small tits, I'm used to them big."
"You have saline or silicone?" Winter asks.
"Saline."
"I'm going to get silicone, silicone doesn't ripple," Winter says. "I'm thirty, and they just don't have the oomph they used to."
The acquaintance sitting with them mentions she'd never have hers done, that they seem to be hanging in there.
"Let's see," Winter and Brittany say. The girl lifts her shirt and bra and shows the girls, and the entire right side of the bar in the process. There is no reaction whatsoever from the latter.
Winter cracks up. "You have to love King Eddy's. In five minutes, they've seen four tits and one bush, and no one even blinks."
MONDAY, 2:30 P.M. A PAPER SIGN TACKED OVER ONE SIDE of the bar reads:
I can only please one person per day
Today is not your day
Tomorrow doesn't look good, either
Anthony is a forty-three-year-old Isleta Indian from New Mexico, living in a hotel room nearby until the money from the sale of his mother's house comes through.
"They sold it six months ago," Anthony says, pouring the last of a pitcher of beer into his glass. "My brothers and sisters, they're greedy."
Anthony used to work as a plasterer, before falling off a ladder in Montebello. He's disabled now. "I get six hundred and thirty four dollars a month from Social Security, then I get a check from insurance."
This does not mean he is not going to work. He has a calling.
"I went to UCLA for ten years, studied business. I have a business credential," he says, wiping beer off his long mustache. "I'm gonna read the pyramids, for the Library of Congress. I hope. I need at least ten credentials to read the pyramids, otherwise it will be a fallacy . . . I'm talking about the pyramids in Mexico. There's a section down there called the Blue Lagoon, right outside Guatemala, where the Incas were. I have an ability. If you look at a dollar bill, at the eye of the mesa: that's a shrine. The belief in tomorrow."
At the end of the bar is a guy who looks disarmingly like former Major League Baseball player Darryl Strawberry; he's even wearing a Yankees cap. "The eye is Egyptian," the guy shouts.
"It's Shriner. It's Mason," Anthony shouts back.
"It's not Inca, it's Egyptian!"
"It's Shriner, don't tell me, what the fuck, I belong to the church."
Anthony goes to the bathroom. Darryl (who says his name is "none of your fucking business") shouts after him. "That eye has nothing to do with the Incas, you know it and I know it. That's Egyptian!"
When Anthony is out of earshot, Darryl says, "Everybody is so fucking smart. It's the L.A. water. These are the people who piss and shit on your streets. There wasn't an Inca around when they made that dollar bill." He launches into a caustic monologue about the superiority of New York over L.A.
"That eye belongs to Morton Salt, from Utah," Anthony says, back on his stool and ordering another pitcher. "He's the head of the Mason Church. It's a secret society. The first president was George Washington."
"I'm sorry to interrupt," Darryl says, not sorry to interrupt as he sticks his face in front of Anthony's, "but he doesn't know New York is better because he's never been there. Look outside, you see that? In L.A., two sides of the street are like one side of the street in New York. Two sides like one!"
Freddy Fender singing, "Wasted Days and Wasted Nights" comes on the jukebox. Darryl stomps back to his stool and, every five seconds or so, shouts something about the Bronx, about Manhattan.
"In Mason, they believe in Satan, Satan is the redeemer. I'm a Mason," Anthony says. "I can go to court right now and get out, only because I'm a Mason. All judges are Mason. It's a very, very strong society. They're also called Shriners. To become a Shriner you have to go to the fifty-eighth category. That means you're above all levels of the law, you're on the level of God. I know Satan, I'm a Shriner myself."
"Shriners are fucking Polacks," Darryl says, and walks out of the bar.
Anthony talks about what he'll do at the pyramids. "They have you read hieroglyphics and come up with an interpretation. [The Incas] believed in extraterrestrials. So what I'm doing is, I have a girl named Yaqui, she's about eighteen inches tall and she's green. She'll contact you."
A Native American woman with a mullet and a black lurex blouse helps an old man in a walker around the bar and toward a seat by the open front door. It's a pretty day outside.
"And I'm expecting some income from the Veterans Administration," Anthony says. "I went to Vietnam, in 1970. I was there nine months and twenty-one days. In Hemp Ho. H-E-M-P H-O. I was in the Marines. I played in a band, too. Guitar and piano, too. I wrote my first song when I was sixteen."
Can he sing it?
He closes his eyes and makes his hands play the chords, stops, tries again. He smiles as though he's genuinely surprised. "I can't remember the words."
Forty minutes after she started, the Native woman has yet to get the old man comfortably into his seat. Bill comes from around the bar to help
FRIDAY, 8:30 P.M. IT'S COLD OUTSIDE. LOOK FOR A parking spot close by King Eddy's, where the car can be seen from inside. This is easy, as the street is empty. It always is after dark, though one block east a hundred people jostle for food in front of the Midnight Mission. And on the corner of Fourth, half as many agitate a few feet in one direction, then back; it's impossible to see what, if anything, is making them move like a mass of seaweed.
Inside King Eddy's, it's warm and bright. A Man Called Horse plays on the TV, Richard Harris looking blond and fey amid the swarthy villains and the Native children, who walk off-camera giggling after flogging Harris with sticks. The Native woman with a mullet has added large pearl earrings to her ensemble, and is lip-synching to "kiss me once then kiss me twice then kiss me once again," her eyes closing dreamily during the sax solo.
"You'll be more comfortable sitting there," Bill says, indicating a stool farther away from a few drinkers who look as though they've had a long head start.
"Hey, have you young folks ever been to Burbank?" asks a jumpy gentleman in a jogging outfit. "I was driving over there the other day, and this officer stops me. I ask him, 'What's wrong? Did I run a red light? Am I speeding?' He says, 'No. You're going the wrong way down a one-way street!'" Burbank cackles. Bill is standing behind the bar with his arms crossed, his forbearance thin. Burbank knows it, but what the hell.
"Hey, did you kids . . ."
"Move along," Bill says, waving Burbank back from whence he came, on the other side of the bar, with the daytime regulars.
Liz comes in. She and her friend Joe have been putting in twenty-hour days for Fox Sports.
"How you doing, kid?" Bill asks.
"Good, good, exhausted," Liz says.
"Listen, I'll be happy to hang some paintings by the kids from the loft," Bill says, tapping a beer. "Tell 'em to put a price on them and I'll hang them up. But not too pornographic."
"Cool," Liz says. "We've been installing fiber optics into these mini stadiums, Fenway Park, Daytona. Fiber optics sounds so cool, but it's like fishing line."
"The stadiums are made by the Danbury Mint," Joe says. "Which is like the bastard Franklin Mint."
Burbank comes back with an expectant smile, holding a deck of cards.
"No cards on the bar," Bill tells him.
"I'm not going to open them up, okay? I'm just going to tell them how it's done." Burbank niggles his way in, pushing Liz off her stool. "This trick is called 'Immaculate Conception.' You take a card, then I tell you what it is, then you take another card, and I…"
"No cards at the bar, I already told you that," Bill says.
"But I'm just telling them."
"Move. Go," Bill says. Burbank goes.
Liz orders a $3 plate of eggs, hash browns and sausage covered in white gravy, a plate big enough for a trucker, and eats it at the bar.
"You got the munchies, kid?" Bill asks.
"I haven't had dinner."
"That's not dinner, that's breakfast."
"I haven't had breakfast yet, either."
Johnny Cash comes on, singing "Folsom Prison Blues."
"When I was at the girls' home, in San Diego, I used to have to make this every Sunday," Liz says, and that she's from Altadena by way of a few places her parents shipped her off to.
A pretty woman named Suze, who used to bartend at King Eddy's and now lives upstairs, comes in wearing a blue satin baseball jacket and waving an article about the bar that appeared in the Downtown News. She shows it to Liz, who's quoted as saying, "It's a place to be."
"Did I say that?" Liz says, laughing and grimacing at the same time.
Suze makes the assembled read the piece, headlined "No Martinis Here," in which the writer calls King Eddy's "a watering hole for war veterans, alcoholics and druggies . . . this won't make the pages of Esquire." After a few drinks, the writer said she headed fearfully for her car, thinking, "It's a long drive home to Beverly Hills. In more ways than one."
"Can you believe it?" Suze asks.
"We're not Beverly Hills," Bill says. "You want to spend sixteen dollars for a round of drinks, go to Beverly Hills, you don't belong around here."
Everyone here likes King Eddy's the way it is, likes downtown the way it is; they don't like the rumors and realities of change. The topic of the real estate developer Tom Gilmore, who's been gutting old bank buildings and turning them into lofts, quickly becomes rancorous.
"My rent's going to go from like three-hundred-and-forty a month to eighteen million," Liz says. "I guess we're spoiled, the prices are so cheap. My view is probably pretty twisted, I like my life and I don't want it to change. I've been here eight years and, especially in the last two years, I've loved it, I don't want it to change. Perfect."
It's 11:30, closing time. Liz and Joe tip Bill extravagantly, tucking money into the neck of his T-shirt. He pantomimes a cancan dancer, lifting his apron and batting his eyes; at sixty-two, he still manages to look like the Marine he was. Get ready to leave.
"Anytime you're here and you're by yourself, just say something, and I'll walk you to your car," bartender Jim Hill says.
It's very dark along Los Angeles Street, with streetlights out or never installed. The brightest light comes from the new Rosslyn Hotel sign, formerly made of bulbs, newly rendered in LED lights in primary colors, red blue and yellow light blasting down Fifth Street, pooling over the sleepers and wanderers, and on the Gilmore Associates leasing office at the corner of Fourth and Main.
SATURDAY, 12:30 P.M. "LOOK AT THIS," SAYS BILL, TAKING A cigarette break in front of King Eddy's and nodding at the throng of Saturday shoppers. "Is this scary? No."
He's still rankled about the article. "Just because we're on the edge of Skid Row doesn't mean we're a Skid Row bar," he says. "This used to be a workingman's bar. Only have one labor pool left in this neighborhood, Crest, over on Fifth, great bunch of guys. They come in, cash their checks; have a few drinks. We used to have nineteen [labor pools] down here. We used to have Broadway before it folded up years ago. We used to have nineteen bars between here and Central. Now, there are four bars in the downtown area. You got Cole's, Craby Joe's, Charlie O's and this place."
He stands back from the doorway so a man in a wheelchair and holding his tank of oxygen in his lap can pass. Because he can't get up to the bar itself, Jim Hill, who's on break, orders the guy what he wants, a pack of Marlboro Lights.
"The majority of my clientele are permanent," Bill says. "Every one of them here lives in one of these hotels, a couple of them live on the Westside, they always stop in here, you know, they feel comfortable. When they're ready to go, we call a cab, and they go home. Night-crowd people who work all week come and relax a little bit. Like the kids, they work all day, they do their thing, they come in here, blow a little steam. They're not rowdy. We won't let a rowdy crowd in. We ask them to leave. They don't leave, we pick up the phone and have an escort get them out of here."
Bill rents two rooms upstairs, for his girlfriend and himself, $500 total. He can afford it. Most people at King Eddy's have a hard time paying for one room. "They're living on Social Security, or SSI, so they just have to budget themselves to make ends meet. If you come down to the street . . ."
He takes a second to size up his visitor, and then says, "You're a gutsy little gal, try this: Get yourself eight hundred dollars and the clothes on your back, and live on the street for one month. Live in this hotel for one month. Now, out of that eight hundred, you gotta pay your rent; buy your groceries; you want a TV, you have to buy that; you want a microwave, you have to buy that. Let's see how far you last on eight hundred dollars, without touching your bank account, without calling your sister up and saying, 'Help.' And you want to come and have a drink, because you need some kind of social life. Try it. I dare you."
Blondie's on the far side of the bar today, not looking too well. It's the end of the month. Money's tight. Social Security and general relief checks don't come until the beginning of the month.
"Majority of them are single people, a few of them are married couples, trying to get back on their feet again," Bill says. "They stay here for two, three months, before they get their finances built up, their job organized, then they move where it's comfortable for them. But once they're stuck down here, unless they're really motivated to do something to get out of here, they're going to be stuck. A lot of people accept it, they accept their environment, but they're not down here because of choice, they're down here because of economics."
This is the main reason Bill keeps prices low. "I have a meatloaf sandwich up there, three dollars," he says, pointing to the grill menu. "They go a block and a half, meatloaf sandwich, seven seventy-five. At Cole's, seven seventy-five. So they come in here for something reasonable to eat. We make them a good sandwich; we don't gouge them. That's all I can say about it, really. We try to look out for our people . . . It's a workingman's bar and retired people's bar, and it's a nice bar. Regular man's bar. We have sports on TV, we have seven TVs; we can get almost every game going. We can't get the [Lewis-Tua] fight, we're not gonna pay. It costs you fifty dollars at home, but it's three hundred dollars for a bar, then you have to charge, and these people can't afford it. 'Hey, you wanna watch the fight, it's gonna cost you ten bucks.' I'm not gonna do it. I'm not gonna do it. I don't need tricks, it works the way it is, I don't need no tricks to get my clients . . . We run a clean bar, clean food, we don't allow too many bad influences coming in the bar. I won't even let them come in here and panhandle a cigarette."
Bill throws his own out into the street. He's been working and living downtown, on and off, going on twenty-seven years.
"I remember, back in the old days, this place was booming, okay. The labor pool was sending out four hundred, five hundred guys. If you couldn't get a job down here, there was something wrong with you. Long as you go in there with clean hands, you get a job, and this bar was packed every day, strictly working-class. Now, they bought up all this toy district and everything else . . . you can see the difference, you can see the difference. I seen lawyers go belly-up, okay, I seen them on the street, turned into complete alcoholics until one of their in-laws came down and grabbed 'em by the scruff of the neck and took 'em home and cleaned 'em up. But everybody has to start someplace, and this is the lowest rent you can get, period. Let's face it, this is the lowest-rent district."
FRIDAY, 8 P.M. AN OLD WOMAN WHO HAS BEEN SITTING by herself at a countertop table comes slowly around the bar, leaning heavily on her cane. Her fist looks frail as it hovers over the bar. She opens her hand: A crumpled one and two quarters fall out.
"Buy you a beer?" she asks in a small, sweet voice. She's less than five feet tall, with a heart-shaped face shadowed by what was likely great beauty.
How about someone buys her a beer? She stares coquettishly, nods, collects her money and goes back to her table.
Is she here alone?
"Little Honeybun?" Bill asks. "She's lonely because her boyfriend went home early, and she just don't want to go home."
Jeremy's lonely tonight, too. In his twenties, sporting a plaid wool cap and wiry muttonchops, he lives in the Canadian and is part of a band called Syncopation ("at the moment") that's playing later that night at the Smell. Right now, he's having a drink, trying to forget about a woman.
"This is the best bar I've ever been to here," he says. "I've been here mostly in the afternoon. It's a little more mellow in the afternoon, a wee bit of medicine. Now, it's more a celebration. And the food's pretty fucking good, it's pretty trustworthy, better than going to some Mexican place with a C rating. This place loosens all the cables in the brain. Doesn't matter what's on the jukebox, who's pouring drinks, it's everybody taking care of each other, in the heart of L.A. People are dancing who'd be scared to dance, laughing where they'd be scared to laugh, bartenders taking care of everyone. You're not going to run into King Eddy's, you have to find the place. It's a cushion of happiness, it's always soft."
Liz and Winter come in. Liz has just finished a Mud Vayne video shoot, where she spent 20 hours sitting on the singer's chest, paint-animating his face. When she says she feels like she's getting the flu, Winter digs into her purse and pulls out a bottle of Herbal Care Immune System Activator. She sprinkles it on everyone's arms.
"Rub it in," she says. It smells like herbs.
Bill watches, beaming like a proud papa. "How do you like my new generation?" he asks. "I love it."
"Everybody comes here to not be judged," Jeremy says. "You hang up your coat, you hang up your judgment. You're here to indulge in life. This place, it's all about forgiving and forgiving and getting back to the real world."
Without anyone noticing, Little Honeybun has crossed to the other side of the bar, and is dancing fluidly to the Crusaders' "Street Life." She looks like a fading though still-radiant movie star. The old men next to her scoot their stools back slightly, giving her room to glide.
mezzrow
I'm dead.


from Newfoundland will books volume 1 pages 110 & 111 probate year 1831.
This is the last will and testament of me John Edgar of Greenspond in the Island of Newfoundland, Surgeon, made and published the fifth day of March in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and thirty, being of sound mind memory and understanding, I give and bequeath unto my dear wife Ann Edgar and my friends John Thorne Oakley and George Frampton, all of Greenspond aforesaid, their executors administrators and assigns all my monies of what nature or kind soever, or wheresoever situated, and also all my Houses, Goods, Chattels, Personal Estate and Effects, whatsoever and wheresoever, and of what nature or kind soever, Upon the trusts hereinafter mentioned, concerning the same, that is to say, Upon Trust that they my said Trustees, and the survivors and survivor of them their executors and administrators do and shall pay and devide the same in equal shares and proportions unto my dear wife Ann Edgar and to my dear children, Marie, Benjamin, George, Louisa, Caroline, John and Mary Ann, at such time and times and in such manner, as they my said Trustees shall think fit and proper, for their mutual benefit, comfort and support, (subject to the payment of all my just and lawful debts) And in case of the death of either my said wife, or my said children, then I will and direct that the share of him, her or them so dying, shall be divided amongst the survivors share and share alike, but in the event of either of them so dying, with lawful issue of his her or their body lawfully begotten, then I will and direct that the share of him, her or them so dying, shall be paid to such issue in the same manner, as their deceased parent or parents would have been entitled to respectively.
And I do hereby nominate, constitute and appoint my said wife Ann Edgar, and the said John Thorne Oakley and George Frampton, executors and executrix of this my last will and testament, hereby revoking and making void all former and other wills by me at any time heretofore made and declaring this to be my only true last will and testament.
Signed sealed published and declared by the said John Edgar, the testator as and for his last will and testament, in the presence of us, who at his request, in his presence, and in the presence of each other have hereunto subscribed our names, as witnesses attesting the due execution hereof. Nathl Allen Costen. Fredk Jenkins.


text:
The Real Challenge Superman Faces In Batman V Superman, According To Zack Snyder
Adam Holmes
Published: Mar. 2. 2016 3:55 PM
It's been three years since we saw Superman fight General Zod in Man of Steel, and a fair amount of time has passed in-universe when Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice begins later this month. Since first putting on the blue Kryptonian suit and red cape, he's been getting the hang of the superhero life and keeping humanity safe. Of course, not everyone believes he's a benevolent figure, and despite his good deeds, people still find excuses to paint him in a bad light.
In the midst of fighting Batman and dealing with Lex Luthor, director Zack Snyder told DC All Access (via THR) that Superman will also have to contend with people blaming him for every action he takes as a hero in his second DC Extended Universe appearance. Snyder said:
He's been righting wrongs. There have been floods, mines have collapsed, bridges have collapsed, churches have caught on fire. He's basically been a hero…He's starting to see that every action has a reaction. Like, if you're just taking a cat out of a tree, you can't touch anything or the arborists will say, 'He damaged the tree branch when he got the cat down.' Or, 'The cat wasn't neutered, so now there's thousands of cats.' There's no winning anymore for Superman.
In the Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice previews, we've seen the differing viewpoints concerning Superman. Many believe he's the savior Earth needs, while others think he poses a threat with his godlike abilities. These naysayers Zack Snyder talked about sound like they fall into the latter category. No matter what Superman does to save their life, keep them out of harm's way, or even get that cat out of the tree, they'll find a way to criticize him, even if that criticism is out of his control. As powerful as he is, even Superman can't force people to change their opinions, and that can be more frustrating than fighting a billionaire in an armored Batsuit set on neutralizing you.
The main reason that many don't care for Superman in the DCEU is because his public debut had him fighting Zod across Metroplis, and that battle left untold amounts of destruction. Despite spending the time after Man of Steel protecting his adoptive people, there's still a debate about whether Superman should carry any blame for those casualties, both in the DCEU and the real world. Within Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, this will eventually lead to him testifying before a Senate investigatory committee headed by Holly Hunter's Senator Finch, and it doesn't look like that will go well. Combined with Batman's crusade and Lex Luthor's secret machinations, Superman just can't catch a break.
You can watch Superman be put through the wringer when Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice is released on March 25.
Adam Holmes View Profile
Connoisseur of Marvel, DC, Star Wars, John Wick, MonsterVerse and Doctor Who lore. He's aware he looks like Harry Potter and Clark Kent.
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news Wild The Flash Rumor Now Says Movie Could Bring Back Another Beloved Batman Actor


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Forest Preserves
Cook County Budget
Forest Pres. Budget
Health & Hospitals
Land Bank Authority
Unsung Heroine
Office phone numbers:
The Cook County Code of Ordinances are the current laws of Cook County.
Search current and proposed Cook County Legislation in Larry's exclusive legislative library.
The Cook County Law Library is the second largest County law library in the nation.
2005 | 2004 | 2003 | All
from the office of Commissioner Larry Suffredin:
Veterans Affairs Newsletter | First Quarter 2021
The Forest Way Newsletter
The Housing Authority of Cook County (HACC) will open the Affordable Multi-Family Housing wait list
CCDPH Vaccine Distribution Town Hall
Cook County Department of Public Health Newsletter
Cook County Department of Public Health
Cook County Announces COVID-19 Vaccine Distribution Plan
Health Department Launches Law-Enforcement Driven Deflection and Naloxone Distribution Initiative to Fight Opioid Overdose
Pappas: Get an early look at next year's property taxes; Download your bill at cookcountytreasurer.com.
Letter from the CEO of Cook County Health
A message from Niles Township Assessor, Scott Bagnall
EVICTION INFORMATION from the Lawyers' Committee for Better Housing
Qué cambió sobre la Moratoria de Desalojo de
COOK COUNTY STATE'S ATTORNEY'S OFFICE 2020 Schedule for The Family &Friends Network
Cook County Community Recovery Initiative: Cash and Utility Assistance
Cook County Treasurer Maria Pappas
Cook County Releases Updated Interactive Budget Website
Letter from the Cook County Health Interim CEO
HACC Wait Listing Opening
Workdays for Perkins Woods
Gov. Pritzker Announces $16 Million Investment to Connect Out of Work Illinoisans with 1,300 COVID-19 Response Jobs
Pappas: Check your mortgage account if you refinanced this year. My office returned a record $51.2 million in property tax overpayments
Good News in 2020: Unexpected, Rare Plants Returning to Recently Restored Forest Preserves
September 2, 2020: President's Office Debrief
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Land sale shows TB district has got to go
Funds may be available for ditch cleaning
Pioneer Press
Commissioner slams canceling jail hearing
Stroger needs to swallow bitter p
Crain's Chicago Business
Use of County Cars to be Curbed
15th Forest Staffer Suspended
Hansen: Hire the poor, put race aside
Another embarrassment for county government
Golf course beefs up its inside game
Illinois must invest more in public transportation
County to probe workers' driving recor
Forest Preserve driving scofflaws targeted
Stroger hires diversity expert
14 forest workers to be suspended
Forest District rent hike long overdue
West Nile cases across Illinois up slightly in 2004
Sheriff's domain
Forest preserve district adds new 'boss'
Forest preserve tax bill to increase 16 percent
Homeowners hit with 13.6% forest district tax hike
Cook forest preserves to hike levy
Forest district asking for property tax hike
Picknickers get a pleasant and unpleasant surprise
County promises to fix 80th Avenue noise in spring
Cook County says it has 10,000 flu shots to give away in suburbs
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Page 350 of 370 displaying items 8726-8750 of 9230
The views expressed in the press articles do not necessarily reflect or are endorsed by Commissioner Larry Suffredin and our office.
Paid for by Larry Suffredin and not at taxpayer expense. A Haymarket Production.


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The Hunting Accident: A True Story of Crime and Poetry
Meet the Author: David L. Carlson and Landis Blair
6 to 7:30 pm
Free and open to the public. Registration required.
Listen to an audio recording of this program.
It was a hunting accident—that much Charlie is sure of. That's how his father, Matt Rizzo—a gentle intellectual who writes epic poems in Braille—had lost his vision. It's not until Charlie's troubled teenage years, when he's facing time for his petty crimes, that he learns the truth.
Matt Rizzo was blinded by a shotgun blast to the face in Chicago's Austin neighborhood—but it was while participating in an armed robbery.
Newly blind and without hope, Matt began his bleak new life at Stateville Prison. But in this unlikely place, Matt's life and very soul were saved by one of America's most notorious killers: Nathan Leopold Jr., of the infamous Leopold and Loeb.
From David L. Carlson and Landis Blair comes the unbelievable true story of a father, a son, and remarkable journey from despair to enlightenment, in the graphic novel, The Hunting Accident: A True Story of Crime and Poetry.
After their talk, Carlson and Blair will sign copies of the book, which will be available for purchase.
Download a PDF flyer for this event, to post and distribute, and explore related Newberry materials with our Collection Quick Guide on Early 20th-Century Law. Also explore the inventory of Matt Rizzo's papers in the Newberry collection.
Excuse our dust!!!
Beginning January 2018 the Newberry is undertaking renovation of much of the ground floor. Ruggles Hall will not be affected, but please check this link frequently for the latest conditions - which exterior doors are open or closed, where to find an accessible entrance, which restrooms are available, etc.
Free and open to the public; registration has now closed.
Doors open half an hour before the program begins, with first-come, first-served seating for registered attendees. If seats remain available, non-registered individuals will be permitted to enter about ten minutes before the event's start. Questions? Contact us at publicprograms@newberry.org or 312-255-3610.