Pre-Ramble:  Step aside Super Bowl hotshots and prognosticating rodents, there’s a much bigger deal casting a shadow across the land today … Facebook Inc. has filed for an initial public offering that could value the social networking company at between $75 billion and $100 billion ( … that’s billion with a “b”).

Facebook has grown 88% since 2010 and currently has a staggering 845 million users worldwide — !  Twenty-seven-year-old Mark Zuckerberg, part of the elite upper echelon of hoodies-n-flip-flops tech-start-up moguls, could personally rake in over $28 billion on the deal.

The Take-Away:  For those of you playing at home, that could buy more than Punxsutawney’s weight (4-9 lbs.) in Super Bowl rings with ample money left over for shagbark hickory (a woodchuck favorite) and beer.

Post-Note:  Facebook has its own Facebook page on Facebook … It currently features a ranking of the site’s most talked about topics for 2011 and has 60,353,196 “likes.”

Post-Post-Note:  Mark and Phil - separated at birth?

Pre-Ramble:  As the world watches, the saga of stricken cruise liner the Costa Concordia takes another unfathomable turn …

In what we can only assume are words from the mouth of SNL ‘s pathological liar Jon Lovitz, cowardly Capt. Francesco Schettino explains today’s rationale for the fact that he was seen in a lifeboat rowing away from the sinking ship as panicked passengers remained behind …

” … I was trying to get people to get into the boats in an orderly fashion.  Suddenly, since the ship was [tipped] at a 60 to 70 degree angle, I tripped and I ended up in one of the [life] boats.  That’s how I found myself there.”

Seriously?! … Did he seriously think anyone would buy that?

The Take-Away:  Seriously pathetic.

Pre-Ramble:  Over the weekend, the front page of our Pioneer Press featured two stories: one, the continuing story of young local hockey player, Jack Jablonski, who suffered a devastating injury in a high school hockey game, and the other, a story about the uber-goofy Red Bull Crashed Ice event that was held across town on the frozen steps of the breathtakingly beautiful and historic St. Paul Cathedral (shown at right).

Cowabunga!  The “ice-cross downhill world championship” event was enthusiastically embraced by “athletes” from all over the world, combining elements of motocross, snowboarding, in-line skating, downhill skiing, BMX biking, gymnastics and hockey.

“Skaters begin atop a three-story ramp … hurtling themselves through a zigzagging 1,300 foot chute of jumps, drops and hairpin turns … reaching speeds of up to 40 miles per hour.”

“U.S. amateur contestants, predominantly from Minnesota, crashed one after the other down the course … despite a requirement to wear full hockey pads, bones were broken, bodies bruised, and faces bloodied … ‘The course is insane,’ said Joey Velasquez of Bloomington ‘ … the ice conditions are terrible’ …” (Pioneer Press)

“David Kron, a snow-boarder, water-skier and hockey player, broke his neck and back on a dirt bike in 2007, but is eager to try his mettle … ” (WSJ)

On one level, the Crashed Ice event was a curious and exciting spectacle, particularly at night when the entire length of course was lit up in brightly colored lights and fans filled the air with waves of cheers and squeals and the nerve-jangling sound of clanking cowbells. It was different; it was cool; it was crazy.  It brought a hip-happening vibe to the oft characterized as beyond-boring-and-conservative City of Saint Paul.

On another level though, the mentality that makes Crashed Ice so different and cool, so appealing — the explosive speed, contact, challenge, aggressiveness, competitiveness — are some of the very forces that put Jack Jablonski in the hospital and likely in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.

“Mike and Leslie Jablonski, awed by the international outpouring of support and encouragement for Jack, seized the spotlight to advocate for changes in the sport’s [hockey's] conflicting ethos of skill and violence, hoping to create a safer environment for amateur players.”

The Take-Away:  I get the difference between the two situations … celebrating the pursuit of extreme/goofy/potentially dangerous sports among consenting adults vs. fostering safety for youth in organized sports.  The juxtaposition of the two just struck me as ironic.

I hope the Crashed Ice experience met the expectations of participants and fans, and more so, I hope that Jack’s condition continues to improve and that the hockey community revises its rules to prevent the kind of cheap, unnecessary and unsportsmanlike behavior that led to his injury.

Pre-Ramble:  So, I was eating a bowl of cereal and paging through the paper this morning, like every morning … when suddenly my eyes froze on the words on the page in front of me.

(Sounds like the beginning of a horror movie, doesn’t it?) … I had come to the obituary page, and there, halfway up the lefthand column, was my name.

My whole name.

Katherine. … A. … Emmons.

Plain as day.

At first, I just sat there, half awake, feeling creepy and struggling to verify that the person in print in front of me was, in fact, not me.

Nope.  Not me.  As in the movie Monty Python and the Holy Grail , ”Not dead yet.”

Then I wondered, how many Katherine A. Emmons’ there are, actually …

According to Google, there are 18 individuals named Katherine Emmons on the professional networking site LinkedIn (and 14 more that incorrectly spell their names with a “C”).  A few notables:

• Katherine Emmons Force Spencer (1891-1948) was a Christian missionary in the Philippines and prominent in Newport, Rhode Island society
• Katherine Emmons is a scholar and writer in San Diego. She is chair of several dissertation committees and writes children’s books in her spare time which include ”Thunder and Lightening” (an adaptation of the animated movie Cars), and Ratatouilli (an adaptation of the animated movie of the same name — I loved that movie, btw)
• Katherine Emmons (the one in the paper this morning) was a loving mother, sister and grandmother who passed away peacefully surrounded by family …  (She would have been 78 on January 4, 2012). R.I.P.
• Katherine Emmons … me (alive and kicking; shown below) … a brilliant concept development strategist, writer, and all around alive gal (did I mention that I was still alive?)

The Take-Away:  In my search, I found one more Katherine Emmons worth noting …  she goes by Katie Emmons (the name Katie has a nice, snappy ring to it) and she’s an interior designer in Charlotte, North Carolina.  The tag line on her very nicely designed website reads:

“Love where you live … Live what you love”

I like that, and will add a third sentiment — “Love that you live!”

Pre-Ramble:  Every year about this time, I steel myself against the inevitable flack I must endure on behalf of my beloved wardrobe workhorse — the turtleneck.

This year, the first shot was fired across the bow by none other than Clinton Kelly, the other half of the “Clinton and Stacy” duo from the popular show on TLC ”What Not To Wear.”

In case you aren’t a fan, or don’t have daughters who threaten to submit your pathetic profile to the show on a regular basis, ”What Not To Wear” takes some poor, unsuspecting slob; throws out all of her horrible, ill-fitting clothes; and releases her onto the streets of Madison Avenue with nothing but a few fashion tips and a loaded credit card. The fashionista-in-training invariably comes back with bags of new horrible, ill-fitting clothes and eventually Clinton and Stacy are compelled to take her out and dress her up in stuff that is flattering, stylish and suited to a new fashionable lifestyle.

Well, so, apparently, Clinton is teaming up with a local alterations chain to bring his fashion-guru-ness to our own Minnesota Mecca of Americana – the Mall of America. Based on the premise that “the essence of style is fit,” “Perfect Fit by Clinton Kelly” tailoring, alterations and style consultation service will debut in the Mall this weekend.

Frankly, he couldn’t have chosen a better venue; the MOA is host to all ilk of fashion violations, at all levels of the fashion spectrum.  However, given this missive around turtlenecks, it is clear that pretty-boy Clinton (he is pretty cute), has NEVER set foot in Minnesota in the winter.  In an interview to promote the “Perfect Fit” opening, Clinton gives the following “haute tip for surviving a Minnesota winter” …

“Beware of the turtleneck … Don’t get me wrong, a turtleneck can be a wonderful thing, and I have a few of them myself … But they should be saved for a really cold day when you’re skiing or spending time outside.”

Seriously?! …  “Saved for a really cold day” … ??  You mean like, EVERY DAY FOR FIVE MONTHS STRAIGHT??

The Take-Away:  Clinton, baby, It’s COLD outside” — !  See below for What To Wear in from the MOA parking lot.  (Turtleneck strongly suggested.)

Pre-Ramble: I really don’t know what to make of this whole Occupy Wall Street situation … I grew up in the 70’s, so I guess I should be more astute.

According to their website,

“Occupy Wall Street is a people-powered movement that began on September 17, 2011 in Liberty Square in Manhattan’s Financial District, and has spread to over 100 cities in the United States and actions in over 1,500 cities globally. #OWS is fighting back against the corrosive power of major banks and multinational corporations over the democratic process, and the role of Wall Street in … ” … blah, blah, blah …

Yep - the OWS movement has a website. It also has a Facebook page, Twitter account and an entry in Wikipedia. For a brand new movement, they have quite a presence … (must have some time on their hands …)

Well, so, protesting against something like a war makes sense to me – I could paint up a nice big messy sign and march into the Oval Office tomorrow to give Barack a nice big piece of my mind about the huge misallocation of resources and lives our current military involvement and policy represents.

But, to line the streets of lower Manhattan to protest against … bankers? … Or stock traders?

Let me get this straight … So, because the economy is in a precarious place, … and “economy” somehow equals “money”? … and we want more money in the hands of more people … we should go to the place where … money changes hands? … and set up tents? … and chant stuff? … and eat hot dogs in the middle of the street?  (Which actually sounds like a pretty normal  occurrence in Manhattan … )

With a few exceptions, I think the majority of folks are hanging around the OWS action not because they have a burning passion to protest ”the corrosive power of multinational corporations” … but, because it’s fun and a novelty and they’ve somehow got nothing better to do with their time. From here, the scenario looks kind of like playing house or urban camping … roughing it … They’ve designated a poster painting area, set up a little “library,” and created a special space for “quiet time” … I guess all we need now is new crayons and some juice boxes.

In the words of one protester, as quoted in The New Yorker Magazine:

“Honestly, it’s great here,” said Kevin Monahan, a twenty-five-year-old former garbage-truck driver wearing a yellow rain poncho and a headband with skulls on it. “We’re well fed, warm at night. I’ve made more friends here than I did in college.” He pointed to a group of punks who had formed a circle on some blue tarps and were teasing one another’s hair, and said, “I probably get along with those guys best.”

The Take-Away: I get the general beef here. I get their right to peaceably assemble.  And, I get the value of their overall message … corporate and government corruption, … fiscal mismanagement, … Check.  Yup.  I’m just not so clear as to what the protesters think the outcome of their efforts/antics will actually be?  How will they know that their effort has been successful?  Do they have some solutions in mind?  Or are they just complaining?  Or worse, are they just making a ruckus for the sake of making a ruckus?

For starters, if they want to boost the sagging economy and redistribute some wealth, they could put their money where their mouth is (like bloke below) … and get a job to put more money into their own hands, … or give some of their money away, if they think somebody else should have some.

Post-Note:  I love the poster of the ballerina on the bull (shown above).  Not sure what it means, … but love it.

Another Post-Note:  Keep it!  … I’m all for the redistribution of wealth, but I sure DON’T WANT the bill that’s been taped to that Dude’s mouth for a month.

Pre-Ramble:  This photo was splashed across the screen of my homepage yesterday morning — an arresting vision of imminent disaster off the coast of New Zealand.  According to the Associated Press …

The Liberian-flagged ship, Rena, ran aground October 5th on the Astrolabe Reef, about 14 miles from Tauranga Harbour on New Zealand’s North Island. A vertical crack on the starboard side of its hull has caused the ship to lean.  About 70 of the 1,368 containers onboard (11 of which contain hazardous materials) have fallen overboard as the 775-foot vessel continues to list, … hundreds of tons of oil have spilled into the surrounding water, washing up onto the pristine white beaches along the coastline … Brutal weather on the reef, with swells of up to 16 feet, have made mitigation of the situation impossible … the piles of containers remaining on deck continue to shift and move, making salvage work dangerous and all but impossible. Six vessels have been mobilized to intercept the drifting containers and other debris in the water.

Sure, there have been disasters of much greater magnitude … earthquakes, tsunami, crashes, bombings … It’s not my intent here to slog through the grimmest of the grim, but something about this picture strikes me as particularly vexing.  I think it’s the precarious, teetering, frozen-in-time, on-the-brink-ness of the situation.

And, I wonder what is in all of those containers, … Each with a destination and purpose, … Each presumably part of 1,386+ other projects and plans.  I wonder what will happen to everything, … as it sinks to the bottom of the ocean … or floats randomly out into the open seas … just lost.

You can see where this is headed and it isn’t good.  The impending environmental damage is disheartening, and, accidental or not, the element of reckless human stupidity is infuriating.

The Take-Away:  What a waste of time, energy and resources.

Post-Note:  Actually, there are some days where I feel exactly like this ship –

Pre-Ramble:  Well, it’s all over social media, and regular media too. Yesterday’s death of Apple CEO, Steve Jobs, has brought out a powerful reaction all over the world.

My artist friend from college (Hi Jules!) lives in Palo Alto.  Today she placed a bouquet of homegrown roses alongside the notes and candles … and apples (with one bite out of them like the Apple logo) that continue to be laid outside the fence around the perimeter of the Jobs’ house.  I’m guessing this news has an even bigger impact in the Pacific Northwest … he’s one of their own.

Actually, Steve Jobs has had an impact on all of our lives in one way or another.  If you’ve ever downloaded a song or app from iTunes or chuckled at a scene from Toy Story, you have been touched by his magic.

Let’s face it – the guy had vision, tenacity, and a knack for figuring stuff out. (I swear, you could put me out in the garage with every single solitary chip and wire that belong in a computer … for a few decades …, and I would still NEVER be able to invent one.)

The Take-Away:  The only thing more amazing about Jobs than the breadth of his gifts, is the depth of his thinking.  In what has come to be known as the “Stay hungry. Stay foolish.” speech, Jobs told the Stanford University graduating class of 2005,

“Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking.  Don’t let the noise of other’s opinions drown out your own inner voice.  And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition.  They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”

Pre-Ramble:  Great.  Now, in addition to generating a constant stream of insightful and entertaining content for my website, winging it with witty banter on Twitter, and logging in with the latest professional brag-tag on Linked-In, I now have to present the perfect and enviable timeline of my life on the “new and improved” Facebook.

No pressure there. 

Let me tell you – this new form of electronic exposure is ten times worse than, say, the old scrapbooking days where simple snap-shots were magically spun into gold, … all tricked out with sticker themes, color schemes, matching boarders and plastic page protectors.  Gals used to pack all their photo gear, a hot-dish and a box of wine into rolling duffels and shuffle over to someone’s house once a month for “craft night.”  If you didn’t completely and creatively document entire decades of precious family memories over the course of the evening, it was fine. No one was checking your work.

I’m not making fun here – I was just never that organized or industrious to dominate in scrapbooking.  It’s no coincidence that my online photo file looks exactly like the hundreds of warped Kodak envelopes that are still stuffed into two ratty moving boxes in the back of our cedar closet. (I almost wish the moths would get in there and organize that mess for me.)  Thank goodness online photo filing systems provide a dated and alphabetized inventory list … If only I could remember when stuff happened and what cleverly mundane name I saved it under … ( … “that trip” … ).

Plaid skirt and knee sox.  The one thing I came to count on with the “old Facebook” was the very lack of choice that they have now “fixed.”  Like school uniforms, there was only one font, there was only one size and orientation for photos, and there were only a few simple maneuvers to master.  You typed in your quippy comment … attached a lame photo or two … and Bam.  Done.

But now — Shoot.  If I’m going to be anywhere near competitive in the realm of this ”new Facebook” forum,  I am seriously going to have to hire an in-house staff … agent, archivist, photo stylist and a couple of full-time tech support people.  I can see it now … my personal paparazzi standing by to capture every Timeline-worthy event.  Of course, there will have to be redo’s on suboptimal momentous occasions … “Oh honey, could we relight those candles? The ambient fill was all wrong … “ …. Or, “Could we re-release those doves? My lens cap was still on … ”

Back in the good old Facebook days (way last year), we used to be able to get by on our wits and a prayer.  Now the damn thing has news stories, moving parts and sound tracks.  What’s next? … “Click here for mood lighting and the scent of freshly baked bread?”

The Take-Away:  Now, instead of concealing the hapless disorder of my life from a few close family and friends (DON’T GO IN THAT CEDAR CLOSET!!!), … I am now obliged to fabricate my perfect life in a timely and orderly fashion, or risk being exposed to the ridicule of potentially millions of complete strangers. … Yipes.  I’m not ready for my close-up, Mr. Zuckerberg!

Post-Note:  It might just be a coincidence, but when you look for the correct spelling for Zuckerberg on Google, the first words to come up for longer than you’d expect are variations on the word “zucchini.”

Pre-Ramble:  Great. It’s Fashion Week.   Didn’t we just do this?  I assure you, I didn’t wear “dressy shorts” with patterned tights and stacked wedges last season, and I won’t wear them this season either — even if they come in that fancy new ”vivid sorbet yellow.”

Yes, this is a time to celebrate the Beautiful People, … in their Beautiful Clothes, with their Beautiful Sunglasses, tucked into their Beautiful Handbags, hanging on their Beautiful Shoulders, as they strut around on their freakishly long Beautiful Legs. It’s the long legs that really tick me off.

People with long legs look fabulous in everything.  And the rest of us look like trolls.  (That’s us, shown above.) People with long legs look good in vivid sorbet yellow dressy shorts. … Even if a short-legged person is wearing vivid sorbet dressy shorts with super-tall shoes, she really still looks like a troll, … on stilts.

Beautiful people are everywhere. Heck, even the the National Football League is getting into the act. Yesterday’s WSJ sports section ran a piece on the ranking of NFL teams according to cumulative scores around their “facial symmetry.”  (I LOVE the Wall Street Journal.) Apparently, research findings show that the degree to which the features on both sides of an individual’s face are symmetrical is a reliable indicator of human attraction. The “Pretty in Pigskin” rankings answer the question on everyone’s mind – ”Which NFL team is the handsomest?”

Turns out the most attractive group of players, with an average symmetry rating of 99.47 is the Buffalo Bills.  Clearly, beauty does not correlate with games won — the Bills had one of the worst records in the league (4-12 last season).  The least attractive team was the Kansas City Chiefs, who came in last with a symmetry rating of 94.6 (but won its division title and made it to the play-offs).  My hometown team, the Detroit Lions, came in at a respectable 98.1 (we won’t talk about their record … ), while the Minnesota Vikings ranked 30th out of 32 teams rated with a pitiful 96.4.

The Take-Away:  In all fairness, very few of us can carry off that shade of purple and nobody looks good in those stupid horn/braid hats.

Post-Note:  Speaking of beautiful people, is it just me, or did the GOP debates look like a homecoming court?  The only thing missing were boutonnieres and a tiara.