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Welcome to the September 2008 edition of "Jud's New England Journal," the rather curious monthly musings of Judson Hale, editor-in-chief of Yankee Magazine, published since 1935 in Dublin, New Hampshire. On the Road Again With The Old Farmer's Almanac "What's the winter going to be like?" is the usual first question. But my most vivid memories of my past radio and television interviews had nothing to do with the weather. Well, for the 217th consecutive year, The Old Farmer's Almanac appears this month on newsstands across the country. September 9th is the official on-sale date for the brand-new 2009 edition, but you'll be seeing it around before then. For more years that I care to say, I was the 12th (since 1792) editor of The Old Farmer's Almanac and, as such, traveled around the country every September promoting the new edition on radio and television. I'll be out there again this month, but most of the touring is now done by the 13th editor, my friend and colleague Janice Stillman, as well as Yankee Publishing CEO Jamie Trowbridge. But it'll be a while before they've compiled as many bizarre, weird memories as I have. For instance, I recall attempting to convince Katie Couric on the Today show that the chicken I was holding in my arms wasn’t stuffed but rather hypnotized. (We had a story that year on how to hypnotize a chicken.) She didn't buy it. She's pretty sharp, that Katie Couric. I think it was the next year that I was, at the last minute, told I wouldn't be going on Good Morning America because the Pope had just died. They scheduled me for a show three months later, and I was bumped off once more because -- guess what? The Pope had died again! There were times on these promotional tours when I had the feeling that some people considered The Old Farmer's Almanac a little, well, maybe "hokey" would be the word. For example, I was on a live morning show in Cleveland on which I was the third of three guests. The first guest, a man from Pittsburgh, played "America the Beautiful" -- with his armpit! (Actually, he was pretty good.) The second guest was the tallest woman in the world. At 7'9" she was taller than even the late Wilt Chamberlain. As I said, I was the third guest that morning. Later, I began wondering whether there was some sort of message in that grouping of guests. And, if so, just what was that message? Another odd memory is being interviewed by the ex-wife of the governor of Minnesota in her round wooden hot tub, water right up to our necks. Apparently her daily hot-tub interviews were quite popular in that part of the country. I'm not sure whether she's still at it. I do recall she was very much on the hefty side. How hefty? Well, let's put it this way: When she stood up and got out of the hot tub after the show, there were actually only a few inches of water in there. The most vivid -- and saddest -- memory I have is sitting in the "the Green Room" -- next to Harry Belafonte, incidentally -- waiting to go on the Today show with Al Roker, when the second plane hit the World Trade Center's south tower. Obviously, I never talked with Al that morning. The world had changed forever. So look for me on the tube this month, although you'll be more apt to see Janice Stillman and Jamie Trowbridge. (I'll "do" only New York, Detroit, and Toronto.) And, also, look for that familiar yellow cover on the oldest continuously published periodical in North America. It's the best issue ever. Am I already overly "promoting"? Shame on me.

Welcome to the August 2008 edition of Jud's New England Journal, the rather curious monthly musings of Judson Hale, editor-in-chief of Yankee Magazine, published since 1935 in Dublin, New Hampshire. Making Fun of Democrats and/or Republicans Actually, New Englanders have always managed to make fun of just about everyone … Since the days of Roosevelt and even further back, the Democratic party has, rightly or wrongly, been associated with the antithesis of New England thrift. Therefore, like the federal government, tourists, and New Yorkers, the Democrats have always been a favorite and traditional subject of New England humor. I should add here that Democratic jokes cannot be turned around to become Republican jokes. They're not interchangeable. Nor are they like so-called ethnic jokes, in which you can usually substitute almost any ethnic minority for another ethnic minority. For example, if you substituted "Republican" for "Democrat" in the following old-time story, often told by the late Sherman Adams when he was governor of New Hampshire, it simply wouldn’t be funny. The governor's version of the story concerns a boy in a Vermont village near his home town (Adams was raised in Vermont) who decided to go to college. His parents were willing to help him but were unsure about some of the ideas he might pick up out there in the wide, wide world. "Sure enough," Adams would say, "the boy came back from college a Democrat. The family was very upset about that and considered that he’d been under the auspices of evil. To make matters worse, the boy founded the local Democratic Club and on the next Fourth of July organized a parade. His father pulled down all the shades in the house and wouldn't let anybody look out to see what was going on. But then he got curious and picked up just the corner of the shade and took a peek. In horror, he turned to his wife and said, 'My God, Samantha, they've stolen our flag!'" Oh, how Adams loved that one. Anyway, here's one more, as told by the late Professor Allen Foley of Dartmouth College and involving a Texas Democrat and a Vermont Republican. It takes place in Texas and has a double whammy because New Englanders enjoy putting down Texans (and I'm sure the reverse is true) just as much as they enjoy putting down Democrats. "How come you're a Republican?" the Texas Democrat asks the visiting Vermonter. "I come from Vermont and my father was a Republican," replies the Vermonter. "Oh, I see," says the Texas Democrat. "So I suppose if your father had been a horse thief, you would have been a horse thief, too." "No," says the Vermonter. "In that case I would have been a Democrat." So how do New England Democrats -- and there are lots today, maybe even a majority -- counter all these old-time New England "Democrat stories"? Well, one of the most effective means is to utilize all the "wealthy, fancy, city slicker" stories and then simply substitute "Republican." Maybe that's not fair, but fairness and accuracy have nothing to do with New England humor. Come to think, fairness and accuracy don't have much to do with politics either.

Judson Laipply (Evolution of Dance) invites you to do the Pork & Beans (whatever that is) by choreographing it yourself on Dancejam.com Go to http://dancejam.com/promotions/weezer Author: weezer Keywords: pork beans dance contest weezer judson evolution dancejam.com Added: July 15, 2008

Well, not really. Fact is, they originated in New England... Welcome to the July 2008 edition of "Jud's New England Journal," the rather curious monthly musings of Judson Hale, editor-in-chief of Yankee Magazine, published since 1935 in Dublin, New Hampshire. Do You Think Grits Are a Southern Invention? Well, not really. Fact is, they originated in New England… When most people think of New England food, they think of lobsters, clam chowder, Boston baked beans, scrod, Indian pudding, cranberries, and apple pie. (Yes, we claim apple pie, too.) But how many of us today have a craving for white field corn, with the hulls removed, that's been boiled in water for many hours with a little salt until it's become a sort of mush? Yuck. And yet the dish, once a hearty staple on New England tables, hasn't disappeared. You can still buy it in a few places, dried or in a can. It's known as hulled corn. Or samp. Or hominy. Or cornmeal mush. My friend the late Vrest Orton, founder of the now-famous Vermont Country Store in Weston, Vermont, once explained to me that samp is actually kernels of corn ground coarse for breakfast cereal; hulled corn and cornmeal mush are roughly as described above (no hulls); and hominy is another name for cornmeal cooked in water, as in "hominy grits," which Southerners claim as their very own. Of course, in truth hominy grits were invented by the Algonquin Indians -- who lived in New England. Now, when Rhode Islanders convert stone-ground cornmeal, salt, butter, and milk (or -- and this is controversial -- water) into patties and then fry them, the result is one of New England's truly iconic foods, the Rhode Island johnnycake, or jonnycake, or journey cake. (That's right, the spelling is controversial, too.) Purists maintain that only real jonnycakes (we'll opt for that spelling) are made with whitecap flint corn, a type pretty much unavailable today in any sort of quantity, although the University of Rhode Island's cooperative extension service maintains a seed supply and furnishes limited amounts to growers such as Old Sturbridge Village. "Any of us will tell you that the flavor and texture of a jonnycake made with flint corn is entirely different from other commercially grown corn," a past president of the Society for the Propagation of the Jonnycake Tradition in Rhode Island once informed me. And the Rhode Island legislature firmly agrees with the society's stand on the matter. Many years ago, it actually passed a law making it illegal to call jonnycakes made with anything other than flint corn "Rhode Island jonnycakes." As far as I know, the law still stands. My own idea of jonnycake wouldn't pass muster anywhere but in Maine. When I was a boy growing up on a farm there, we enjoyed a sort of cornmeal shortcake covered with sliced apples and cream, which we called "apple Jonathan." Anyone remember that?

Author: FFTIMES Added: Wed, 25 Jun 2008 10:52:56 -0800 Duration: 176A lot of people in the Fort Frances area don't know about the music scene. Its small, low budget, and has a truly "independent," sound. Bands from as far as Vancouver and Quebec have pegged Fort Frances as a destination while on their nationwide tours. This can all be credited to one person: Maverick Judson. A lot of people know Maverick in the Rainy River district. Whether its on the stage in a Fort Frances High School, on the big screen in his starring role as James in the locally produced film "The Show," or from his facebook group page which profiles his music. But over the past couple of years Maverick has been most active in bringing independent music to Fort Frances.

Author: FFTIMES Added: Wed, 25 Jun 2008 10:52:56 -0800 Duration: 176A lot of people in the Fort Frances area don't know about the music scene. Its small, low budget, and has a truly "independent," sound. Bands from as far as Vancouver and Quebec have pegged Fort Frances as a destination while on their nationwide tours. This can all be credited to one person: Maverick Judson. A lot of people know Maverick in the Rainy River district. Whether its on the stage in a Fort Frances High School, on the big screen in his starring role as James in the locally produced film "The Show," or from his facebook group page which profiles his music. But over the past couple of years Maverick has been most active in bringing independent music to Fort Frances.

Info about EOD2....it is coming! Judson Laipply shows a few of the dance moves he hopes to have in EOD2. Check outwww.evolutionofdance.comAuthor: erik1013 Tags: Evolution of dance 2 coming judson laipply Posted: 21 June 2008 Rating: 0.0 Votes: 0

Author: TOONLIFEONLINE Added: Sat, 14 Jun 2008 15:45:59 -0800 Duration: 73Trailer for the upcoming animated film North judson "Legend of the Mint Fest" Look for it at http://www.toonlifeonline.com

Author: TOONLIFEONLINE Added: Sat, 14 Jun 2008 15:45:59 -0800 Duration: 73Trailer for the upcoming animated film North judson "Legend of the Mint Fest" Look for it at http://www.toonlifeonline.com

A few people on Block Island say they have -- more than once. Welcome to the June 2008 edition of "Jud's New England Journal," the rather curious monthly musings of Judson Hale, editor-in-chief of Yankee Magazine published since 1935 in Dublin, New Hampshire. We love taking the Point Judith Ferry (Galilee, Rhode Island) out to Block Island, and so do more people than Block Islanders would probably like. It's such a magical place. But I wonder how many have seen a sailing ship burning and then sinking off Block Island shores. I've personally talked to several who swear they have. And they were sober, too. Now bear with me for a moment. It all began back in the 1700s, when a ship called the Palatine sailed from a German port, bound for Philadelphia. The captain died -- or was killed -- en route, and the crew then robbed the German and Dutch passengers before leaving them onboard while they high-tailed it for land in lifeboats. That much is fairly well recorded in history. So now the legend takes over: The Palatine supposedly drifted, or was sailed, onto the shores of Block Island, where greedy islanders plundered and killed the passengers and then set the ship on fire while one live, screaming woman was still onboard. Nasty, nasty … and Block Islanders don't buy it. They insist the islanders heroically rescued the passengers and nursed them back to health while burying the dead. I’ve personally seen four little "Palatine" gravestones on the island, so labeled by a historical monument. Now, enter famous New England writer John Greenleaf Whittier, who couldn't resist writing a poem about the whole affair, including the following six lines: For still, on many a moonless night, From Kingston Head and from Montauk Light The spectre kindles and burns in sight. Now low and dim, now clear and higher, Leaps up the terrible ghost of fire, Then, slowly sinking, the flames expire. Since John Greenleaf Whittier wrote those lines, lots of people have actually seen the burning Palatine. "I was walking home on a night late in November," Mrs. Venetia Rountree, a former business manager of one of Block Island's summer hotels and a graduate of Brown University, told our Yankee Magazine reporter some years ago. "It was moonless and windy, and we were busy getting ready for a predicted storm. Then I happened to glance out to the Sound, and I saw a flickering glow. The light grew bigger as it approached the shore -- and I recognized it from drawings and paintings I'd seen. It was the Palatine." I recall another Block Island native visiting our Yankee offices back in 1958, the year I began working there, and how earnestly she described how, as a young girl living on the north end of the island, she was awakened one night by her parents and saw, for several awestruck moments, as she described it, a flaming ship that "rounded the Point" and then disappeared beneath the waves. Walter Johnson of the United States Geological Bureau, as it was called some time ago, once tried to calm everyone down with a scientific explanation for all these sightings of the burning Palatine. He said that in that area of the ocean, just as is claimed in the so-called "Bermuda Triangle" area of the Atlantic, there are clouds of gas, which may escape from vast deposits below the ocean floor and reach the surface, sometimes actually igniting into flames. Well, okay. But flames always in the shape of a sailing ship? Personally, I tend to go along with John Greenleaf Whittier.

Author: TOONLIFEONLINE Added: Wed, 21 May 2008 22:19:33 -0800 Duration: 174The Judson Boys must find their truck to save their friend. Will they find it in time? Watch more at http://www.toonlifeonline.com

Author: TOONLIFEONLINE Added: Wed, 21 May 2008 22:19:33 -0800 Duration: 174The Judson Boys must find their truck to save their friend. Will they find it in time? Watch more at http://www.toonlifeonline.com

Author: TOONLIFEONLINE Added: Wed, 21 May 2008 22:19:33 -0800 Duration: 174The Judson Boys must find their truck to save their friend. Will they find it in time? Watch more at http://www.toonlifeonline.com

This ad, from the early 90's or late 80's shows the new Macintosh Portable, the first portable computer. It also shows, clear as the sky, that Most things from MS are rubbish.. The guys OS was DOS, which Microsoft bought from a small guy and his business... They can't innovate. The woman has a track ball, as her Mouse. Author: ThinkMarkHD Keywords: windows portable macintosh apple gil steve jobs schiller AAPL ipHone ipod musical evolution of dace judson liappy movies think mark cupertino Added: May 3, 2008

Welcome to the May 2008 edition of Jud's New England Journal, the rather curious monthly musings of Judson Hale, editor-in-chief of Yankee Magazine, published since 1935 in Dublin, New Hampshire. New England's Secret Season It's not ever mentioned in regional or resort promotional material. Never. However, all of us New Englanders are very familiar indeed with what's known among us as "bug season." Bug season starts out with a sort of subseason known as "blackfly season" and then continues on into what's ordinarily labeled as the summer season, which, in turn, can be broken down into haying season, corn-on-the-cob season, and "August." August is the month when the young summer workers in the large resort towns discover that it’s either difficult or impossible to maintain a pleasant front to tourists. Bug season, however, encompasses all of these New England mini-seasons, simply because there are bugs swarming around all during those months. Not that they bother most of us natives all that much. There are many ways to cope with them, the best being to ignore them. But I personally have briefly known several couples who have moved to New England, discovered to their total surprise the existence of bug season, and moved away because of it -- to Hawaii, for instance, where apparently there are no bugs. For some, the blackflies are the most difficult to tolerate, even though, thank goodness, they go to sleep after sunset. By the time the mosquitoes, which don't seem to ever sleep, the no-see-ums (which also don't require rest), and the assorted deerflies, also known as horseflies, are geared up to seasonal capacity, we're pretty much over our early-spring notion that living in the country is perfect. Some years ago, the town of Harrisville, New Hampshire, dealt with its abundance of blackflies by actually celebrating them. Each spring there was a Blackflies Ball, to which residents came dressed up in blackfly costumes. There were blackfly T-shirts for sale in town and the Harrisville softball team was called -- you guessed it -- the "Blackflies." Guess they eventually got sick of doing all that, however, and went back to simply enduring their blackflies like the rest of us. Henry David Thoreau used to rub a concoction "composed of sweet oil of spearmint and camphor” all over the exposed areas of his body. As many of us discover early in life, he eventually concluded that "the remedy was worse than the disease." Other "remedies" would include wrapping oneself up like a mummy so that not one square inch of skin is exposed, smearing on commercial fly dope, which renders one temporarily blind if it seeps into your eyes, and standing in either campfire or cigarette smoke or in a good ocean breeze. I find it helpful to remind myself that whenever I'm with bugs, I'm either picnicking, fishing, camping, working in the garden, or otherwise engaged in a pleasant, warm activity. In theory, then, I suppose one is programmed to associate pleasure with voracious blackflies swarming into one's nostrils and mouth. Ignoring our bugs requires an extreme form of mental concentration on things like blossoming lilac bushes and fruit trees, the sound of birds in the early morning, the greening of the countryside, the full brooks and rivers (if not too full!), the blooming of the Indian turnip (or jack-in-the-pulpit), and those wonderfully long hours of daylight. Come to think of it, after a winter like the one we just experienced, I truly am looking forward to "bug season."

East German Californian from Virginia have their 5th cd finished. go get it "Sufferboy" by JUD Author: judtv Keywords: JUD Sufferboy Fullbliss David Judson Clemmons Added: April 30, 2008

This lecture asks us to question our normative view of the nation-state, and to imagine a world where ethnicity was neither a real nor an important form of community identity. Pieter Judson asks whether Austria-Hungary was truly an empire. He argues that how we answer this question shapes the way we view contemporary East-Central Europe. If, as most people do, we see the world through a nationalist lens, then we will categorize Austria-Hungary as a classic empire, one that ruled over several "captive nations." After the break up of Austria-Hungary in 1918, nationalist activists propagated just such a myth of Austria-Hungary as an imperial "prison of nations" in order to legitimize their new states of Czechoslovakia, Poland, and Yugoslavia. Twentieth-century social scientists too were invested in seeing Austria-Hungary as an imperial entity, one that had held together the complex ethnic mosaic they thought of as Eastern Europe. Finally, nostalgists pining for the lost world of fin-de-siècle Budapest, Prague, or Vienna also promoted memories of Austro-Hungarian culture as particularly imperial in nature. All these views, Judson argues, are wrong-headed, originating in our need, like that of the nationalists, to see Eastern Europe in terms of well-defined nations and cultures. Austria was in fact a genuinely constitutional state with no ruling nation and no oppressed minority nations, but also one with no national identity.

Author: CGarzone Added: Tue, 22 Apr 2008 02:19:31 -0800 Duration: 324Master Dennis teaches his students Tae-Kwondo. Well, sort of...

Welcome to the April 2008 edition of Jud's New England Journal, the rather curious monthly musings of Judson Hale, editor-in-chief of Yankee Magazine, published since 1935 in Dublin, New Hampshire. So Where, Exactly, Is the Cradle of Liberty? Concord, Massachusetts, has always claimed that distinction. But then so has neighboring Lexington … The official first battle of the American Revolution is often referred to as "the Battle of Lexington and Concord, April 19, 1775." That doesn't set particularly well with either Lexington or Concord. Each of those two Massachusetts towns considers itself alone to be the specific cradle of American liberty. But in the minds of Americans in general, Concord has the edge, thanks in large part to Ralph Waldo Emerson. By the rude bridge that arched the flood Their flag to April's breeze unfurled Here once the embattled farmers stood And fired the shot heard 'round the world. That first stanza of Emerson's "Concord Hymn" is carved (without credit to Emerson) on one side of the pedestal of the Daniel Chester French statue The Minuteman, which stands near the "rude bridge" in Concord where the three-minute battle occurred. It was unveiled on April 19, 1875 -- 100 years later -- with President Ulysses S. Grant in attendance. As Nathaniel Hawthorne wrote, Emerson's stirring lines "made Concord's reputation" for all time. Lexington, however, has a Minuteman statue, too. Its version, sculpted by H. H. Kitson, was dedicated in 1900 and was, ironically enough, modeled after an Englishman by the name of Arthur A. Mather. (Mather later became a U.S. citizen, settled in Medford, Massachusetts, and was, of all things, both the national heavyweight wrestling champion and the national canoe-paddling champion.) At the base of a flagpole near Lexington's Minuteman is an engraved line proclaiming Lexington the "Birthplace of American Liberty." Nice … but somehow it lacks that special ring that Emerson provided Concord. Several artists have contributed to the somewhat-inaccurate "legendary" impression of the Lexington battle. The first drawing of it, by artist Amos Doolittle, is probably accurate because Doolittle sketched it only a few days after the battle. If "battle" is the right word. It shows well-organized British soldiers lined up in combat formation, firing a volley at a motley group of scattered colonials, who are not firing back. Those not already lying dead or wounded are hightailing it -- a perception of that particular historic event not compatible with popular legend. By 1830, artistic renditions of the Lexington battle show a few Minutemen firing at the British, while a Hammett Billings painting of 1868 depicts almost all of the Minutemen engaged in battle. However, it is the heroic 1886 Henry Sandham oil painting that forms the basis for the modern version of the Battle of Lexington. The Minutemen and the British are all toe to toe, blasting away at one another. All this points up the important element of time in the making of legends. For instance, most of the impressive memorials standing today in both Lexington and Concord were never viewed by anyone who was alive on April 19, 1775. But I should add that it's not only New Englanders who are apt to let legends develop for years before officially recognizing their historic (and tourist) value. For instance, Texans let the Alamo remain in a heap of rubble for almost 80 years after it fell to Santa Anna in 1836. How 'bout that?

Welcome to the March 2008 edition of Jud's New England Journal, the rather curious monthly musings of Judson Hale, editor-in-chief of Yankee magazine, published since 1935 in Dublin, New Hampshire. About Boston and Bostonians Probably "snobby" is too harsh a description. "Proud" might be better … Old-time New England humor typically includes the "asking directions" jokes and those deadly "put-downs," too. It also includes Bostonians, relying on their allegedly snobby ways and attitudes. Of course, some of it is even true! "My goodness," said a Boston woman when the Boston Transcript announced it was going out of business. "Whatever shall the country do now for a newspaper?" That same particular woman was known to have said, when her husband was in the Antarctic on a six-year scientific expedition, that he was "out of town." I remember a brief cocktail-party discussion in a house on Commonwealth Avenue on the subject of the desirability of extensive travel. "Why should I travel," one elderly matron interjected, "when I'm already here?" Harvard, of course, often comes into play. When a Harvard alumnus asked a fellow classmate what class a mutual friend had been in, the classmate replied, "He had no class. He went to Yale." There are lots of those. James T. Fields, a great supporter of the "Chosen City of the Universe," as he called Boston, used to delight in telling the story of a Boston man he personally knew who, after viewing a production of Hamlet, was expressing his wonder at the genius of William Shakespeare. Finally, he was moved to the ultimate praise. "There are not a dozen men in Boston," he said, "who could have written that play." Boston and its suburbs (to which a lot of the "old money" has moved) really are the center of New England culture and social life. Not because culture and social life in other parts of New England aren’t as good. In many cases, they are. Maybe it's just that they're not as old. Something like that. I mean, formal dinner dances (rare these days) in, say, Springfield, Massachusetts, are very fine, but as the participants themselves say frankly, they're "not Boston." The Boston Symphony Orchestra travels to the Berkshires every summer, but when it returns to the "Hub" (meaning "Hub of the Universe") in the fall, Berkshire County, as writer Tim Clark says, "hangs up its tuxedo and pulls on the long underwear and overalls." Then there are the "Brahmins." Even though the dictionary broadens "Brahmin" to include all New Englanders of a "cultured, long-established, upper-class family," it seems to me that the two words "Boston" and "Brahmin" are inexorably linked. The best image of a Boston Brahmin, in my opinion, is to be found in a certain anecdote told by Cleveland Amory, in his book The Proper Bostonians, about the late Wendell Barrett of Boston, known during his lifetime as "the Brahmin of Brahmins." It seems that on one of his trips to Ireland, Barrett visited the famous Blarney Stone. However, he did not, as almost every other visitor does, lie on his back and kiss it. Instead, he touched it with his umbrella and kissed that. That sorta says it all.

Oprah talks about her brand new YouTube channel and takes you behind the scenes of the show. Before posting a comment, please review her House Rules: http://www.oprah.com/community/thread/1010?tstart=0 Many deleted scenes from the Oprah show that never made it to TV. Warning these may disturb you or make you giggle. Or both. :) Copyright 2008 THEREALGREYBLUE All Rights reserved. Oprah talks about her brand new YouTube channel and takes you behind the scenes of the show. Before posting a comment, please review her House Rules: http://www.oprah.com/community/thread/1010?tstart=0 Author: THEREALGREYBLUE Keywords: Oprah Winfrey Tyson Skateboarding dog Esmee Denters Chad Hurley Steve Chen Dirty Dancing P. Diddy Evolution Dance Judson Added: February 12, 2008

Jud's New England Journal February 2008 Welcome to the February 2008 edition of Jud's New England Journal, the rather curious monthly musings of Judson Hale, editor-in-chief of Yankee Magazine, published since 1935 in Dublin, New Hampshire. The Day I Learned About Salesmanship -- and Deadbeats It happened quite a few years ago. But the lessons still apply … Much of my early education at Yankee Magazine resulted from us all being in one room. There were no private offices. As a result, everyone knew what everyone else was doing and saying. "Yes, they put the ad rates up again," I overheard our advertising manager, the late Mrs. Annabelle Dupree, say on the telephone one morning. "No, I don't know why. They just did." Mrs. Dupree was a no-nonsense, hardworking New Hampshire native who considered her position at Yankee to be a good lifetime job but certainly not a "career." Careers were for city people, or maybe artists or actors. "They," not she, made important decisions such as determining the advertising rates, and she was perfectly content to put it in those terms when talking on the telephone to our customers. In this case, I felt duty-bound to call the customer back. "It's not really that our rates have gone up," I said, attempting to smooth what I felt must surely be the ruffled feathers of a heretofore steady advertiser. "What Mrs. Dupree meant is that our circulation has gone up, and so every advertiser, like yourself, will by buying more apples in the barrel, but at the same rate per apple." "How's that?" said the advertiser, who ran a small furniture company in North Conway, New Hampshire. "I'm selling furniture, not apples." "Right," I said, feeling myself sinking into some obscure morass. "I use apples as an example. You see, our rates are based on a certain cost per thousand subscribers, so …" "Wait a minute," the man interrupted. "Will I have to pay more for my advertisement?" "Well, yes," I admitted, "but …" "Well, that's what your Mrs. Dupree told me 10 minutes ago. I understood her!" After he'd hung up the phone, Mrs. Dupree called across the room for me not to worry, that the man had already extended his contract six months -- at the higher rate. I had a new respect for Mrs. Dupree's "no frills" sales technique: Just say it straight and plain. A few days later, a customer stopped by the office to pay an advertising bill that was three months overdue. While he stood next to her desk, Mrs. Dupree searched for several minutes through her file drawers for his records. Suddenly she brightened and reached for a large manila folder on the shelf behind her. "I remember now," she said in her matter-of-fact tone of voice. "You're here in my file of deadbeats." Across the room, I cringed. Surely she'd gone too far. But not at all. As he wrote out a check for the amount he owed, the man apologized, and on his way down the stairs to the outside door, he called back that he'd try to live the rest of his life in such a way as to avoid being included in "anyone's file of deadbeats." Mrs. Dupree didn't reply. She was already busy with something else.