Wednesday, January 14, 2026

Beth Ann

20 Years Ago on FITK

A party at Beth Ann's.

She had moved up from Iowa to attend school at the Junior College, or to get off the farm, or both. We met when she asked me why my beard was red while my hair was brown. I told her that my pubic hair was red too. Not the best answer, but true. She was lonely I guess, as lonely as I was, and we did become friends, in sort of a “safe” way. After I had fallen for Robin she was still there too, there were about a half-dozen of us semi-attached waifs. We would meet in the cafeteria. Beth had a place, an apartment, with a couple of roommates. They threw a party and I went with a couple of my buddies. Robin was there also.

After the party warmed up a bit, Beth took me aside, into the bathroom, and got all smiley, and then real close. I kept backing up, finally falling into the bathtub. For being the advanced age of twenty, I was still pretty dense. We went back to the party.

The next day she cornered me, and told me how disgusted she was that my friends had peed all over the bathroom floor. She was right. My friends at that time were pretty crude. But I sensed she really was disgusted in me, that I didn't pick up on her signals. But I had wanted Robin, not her.

Years later, we met again. She was an artist,
She wanted me to shoot some of her work for her portfolio. We embraced, and again I felt her need, and again I could not respond.
I did the job, and we departed as friends.

I never peed on anyone's floor.

By Professor Batty

Comments: 0

Monday, January 12, 2026

Check-out in Lane 3

It was a routine shopping trip.

Just the essentials: Bananas, bread, milk, eggs.

As I was bagging my groceries, the PA system played an instrumental, an oldie from the 50s.

The woman on the other side of the lane said: “Oh! I remember this, what's that song called?”

“Sleepwalk, by Santo and Johnny,” I replied, “… my old band used to play it. The slow dancers loved it.”

“That’s a real belly-bumper,” she said with a toss of her silver curls as she turned away.

And then she was gone.

By Professor Batty

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Friday, January 09, 2026

Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows

I had been invited into the parlor.

Not by a spider but, rather, by a vivacious young woman named Robin.

We were involved in a romantic triangle, I was the interloper. We didn’t talk about that situation too much. I don’t think she was a coquette, she just liked the attention and conversation. Her early life (prior to our meeting nine months earlier) had been something of a mystery to me, it was not spoken of, but on this day she was eager to talk about a formative episode in her teen years.

We were standing before the spinet piano where she had taken lessons in her early teens. She related a story about her piano teacher, an older teen boy who took advantage of their proximity on the piano bench to indulge in some light touching, running his fingers through her hair. Creepy, perhaps, but nothing exactly criminal. And she enjoyed it, immensely (“I came and came…”) Her musical ambitions faded after that, or perhaps because of that, but now that she was older she still did enjoy current pop music, especially Led Zeppelin’s Whole Lotta Love.

On this day, however, she rather shyly brought out her favorite album of her teen years, and played me her favorite song:

Whew! That was a far cry from Led Zep. Lesley Gore was a great singer, Marvin Hamlisch wrote the song, and Quincy Jones was the producer, all of them superstars (albeit of a different sort.) Looking back on it now, I think that that particular song may have been Robin’s adolescent mantra, a way to live life, harsh realities be damned. And the good times we had together, those times when she lifted me out of my pit of teen-angst, truly were sunshine, lollipops and rainbows.

By Professor Batty

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Wednesday, January 07, 2026

Chocolate or Wait

Twenty Years Ago on FITK

Leaving the wintry themes behind for a day…

Summer road trips when I was young always seemed just a little too long, a little too hot (no AC), and never quite as much fun as I had hoped for. It was on a foray into the wilds of western Wisconsin, in search of the fabled Crystal Cave, when we found ourselves a little overheated, a little hungry and a little lost. Finally, dad broke down and pulled into a little roadside store. we went in, and much to our relief, found out that they sold ice cream. I was in the mood for a nice cone, something light to freshen my palate.

"What would ya like, sonny?"

"What kinds do you have?"

"Wull, we've got choclit or wait."

"What?"

"He said Choclit or wait." My dad was getting impatient.

I really didn't want chocolate, but I didn't want to wait either… (For what? The ice cream truck? Did the guy have to make any other flavors from scratch?)… so I meekly said: "I'll take chocolate."

I got my cone, and went outside, to eat it at a picnic table.

A minute or too later my sister came out with a nice vanilla cone.

"How come you got vanilla? I wanted vanilla!"

"He said chocolate or wait. I choose wait."

I thought every one had gone nuts.

"But you got vanilla, and you didn't have to wait."

"WHITE, dummy. This is a white ice cream cone."

Somehow, in Wisconsin, vanilla was called white. I later learned that all sorts of things in Wisconsin were called by other names, although I never heard "white" for vanilla again.

The thing that bothered me all the way home was that my family had also called it white.

Sometimes I thought that I was adopted.

Image: Stanley Mouse and Alton Kelley

By Professor Batty

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Monday, January 05, 2026

Meta-More-phasis

end of story
A novel by
A. J. Finn

It must be winter, I’m reading San Francisco-based murder mysteries again.

It must be 2026, I’m reading yet another mystery with ‘meta’ content.

Nicky Hunter, a thirty-something mystery fan, has been exchanging letters with Sebastian Trapp, her favorite author, for several years. She’s definitely a fan-girl but her letters are written with enough flair that Sebastian invites her to his San Francisco mansion to help him with his memoirs.

Sebastian lives with his second wife, Diana, his daughter from an earlier marriage, Madeline, and an underachieving nephew, Freddy, who helps out by running errands and assisting Sebastian’s thrice-weekly dialysis sessions. Sebastian has been given three month to live, and would like to set the record straight. His first wife, Hope, and his teen-aged son, Cole, both disappeared on New Year’s eve twenty years ago. They were never found and a cult group (Trapper’s Keepers) has since grown, feasting on a diet of conspiracy theories, speculation and amateur sleuthing. There is also a dog. When Nicky arrives she is ensconced in the mansion’s attic: Cole’s old room. Various hi-jinks ensue as plots twists (including a masked ball!) flesh out the story.

This book, despite its modern trappings, is an old school murder mystery with numerous references to classic mystery authors (the dog’s name is Watson) written in a clear and non-fussy stye. Characters are properly introduced and developed, the mansion is properly explored, and the San Francisco locales are vividly portrayed. This novel isn’t quite as delicious as my description makes it appear but it is tasty enough.

Recommended.

By Professor Batty

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Friday, January 02, 2026

A. I. and Me

After following recent developments in A. I., I queried Google to see what it thought about my 2023 memoir Search For a Dancer. Here is what it came up with:

AI Overview

"Flippism is the Key" and "Search for a Dancer" refer to posts on the Blogger blog "Flippism Is The Key," a travel blog where author Flippist chronicles trips (often to Iceland) and shares stories, reflections, and even fiction, with "Search for a Dancer" being a specific series within the blog detailing adventures, like attending local theatre or meeting dignitaries, all under the overarching theme of exploring and experiencing life's unique moments.

Key Connections:

Flippism is the Key (FITK): This is the blog's title, a playful motto indicating that this unique perspective or attitude unlocks experiences.

Search for a Dancer: This is a recurring series within the blog, often tied to travels (especially Iceland), focusing on cultural observations and artistic pursuits.

What it means:

The phrases point to the blog's content, which blends travelogue, personal narrative, and cultural commentary, where the author "searches for" interesting people or experiences, finding meaning in the "flippist" (unconventional) way. Example: One post describes a dinner theatre experience in Iceland as part of the "Search for a Dancer" series, reflecting on the play and its themes. Another features a visit with Iceland's President, also within that series, showcasing the variety of "dancers" (interesting people/events) the author seeks.

A ‘deeper dive’ offered these observations:

"Search For a Dancer" is a serial memoir written by Stephen Charles Cowdery (who writes under the pseudonym Professor Batty) and published on his blog, Flippism Is The Key.

**What's the significance of the title "Search For a Dancer" in the context of the memoir?**

In Stephen Charles Cowdery's serial memoir, the title "Search For a Dancer" signifies both a literal and metaphorical journey through Icelandic culture during the 2022 Iceland Airwaves festival. The significance of the title is rooted in several interconnected themes:

A Personal Quest for Inspiration: The title reflects Cowdery's search for a specific kind of artistic energy. In his writings, he often describes encountering people who move with "grace" and purpose, likening everyday interactions to a "mimed ballet".

**The Pursuit of "Sprakkar": A central theme in the memoir is his exploration of the Icelandic concept of sprakkar, meaning "outstanding or extraordinary women". This "search" is for figures who embody this unique cultural strength and artistic vitality.

Authentic Artistic Expression: Cowdery contrasts his search for deep, "heartfelt" artistic performances—like those of musician Sóley—against "safe" or "uninspired" mainstream art. The "dancer" represents a high ideal of performance that is rare and worth seeking out.

A Literary Motif: The title mirrors Cowdery's interest in how art and life intersect. He describes observing individuals in Reykjavík, such as mannequin dressers at midnight, as though they were "ballerinas" in a silent play, suggesting that the "dancer" he is searching for can be found in the beauty of the everyday.

What's the significance of the Iceland Airwaves festival in the memoir?

The Iceland Airwaves festival is the central backdrop and primary reason for the author's trip to Iceland, serving as the main context for the events and experiences recounted in the memoir.

Narrative Framework: The entire memoir, which covers the author's week in Iceland in November 2022, is structured around attending the various events and performances associated with the festival.

Cultural Immersion: The festival provides a unique opportunity for the author to explore Reykjavík's compact and vibrant cultural scene, blurring the lines between performers and attendees.

Discovery of Local Talent: It serves as a platform for the author to discover and experience local Icelandic artists and events, such as music by JFDR and Gróa, and a speech by the President of Iceland at a senior residence, which was part of an off-venue performance.

Personal Reflection: The festival experience, known for its focus on new music and creative expression in a unique environment, appears to offer the author a fresh perspective on creativity and community, impacting him "musically and emotionally".

What's the significance of the 'dancer' in the memoir title?

The "dancer" represents a metaphorical and literal search for artistic connection, centered specifically on the identity of a specific individual the author encountered during the 2022 Iceland Airwaves festival.

Significance of the 'Dancer'

The Literal Search: The title stems from the author’s attempt to identify a woman he saw dancing with intense, uninhibited energy during a performance by the band Gróa at the festival. This quest to find out who she was—whether a professional dancer, an artist, or simply a passionate fan—serves as a recurring narrative thread throughout the chapters.

Symbol of the Festival Spirit: The dancer personifies the raw, communal energy of the Iceland Airwaves festival. To the author, she embodies the festival's unique atmosphere where the barrier between the "performer" and the "audience" is often blurred.

Connection to "Flippism": The search reflects the blog’s core philosophy of Flippism (decision-making via coin flip). The memoir suggests that the author’s presence at that specific concert and his subsequent fixation on the dancer were the results of random chance and open-mindedness, which he believes lead to deeper artistic discoveries.

Artistic Muse: The "dancer" becomes a symbol for the author's broader search for meaning and beauty in the later stages of his life. Her movements provide a visual "key" to understanding the emotional impact of the music he traveled to Iceland to experience.

Whew! A little squirrelly at times, but a lot more than I was expecting! The A.I. bot synthesized information from other FITK posts about Iceland but the “Significance of the Dancer**” section was eerily insightful.

By Professor Batty

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Wednesday, December 31, 2025

2025 Year End Wrap Up

Another year has gone by; the older I get, the more quickly they pass. My health has been good; I've gone over two years without a recurrence of Covid, in fact over two years without any illnesses whatsoever (knock on wood.)

I started off 2025 at FITK forswearing any new posts about Iceland and its culture; a resolution which only lasted until I began to plan my tenth trip to ‘the rock,’ a trip which turned out to be a most rejuvenating experience.

I continued the Wednesday re-postings of twenty-year-old FITK entries. Looking back on them, I am surprised at how well they are holding up (just in time for AI scraper bots!) This means that posting of new material here is down to twice a week (and the sustainability of that pace is in doubt!) The tank isn’t quite empty and recently visits to FITK have expanded by an order of magnitude, mostly by an influx of hits from China. I don’t exactly know what that means—Blogspot had been banned by Chinese authorities in 2006—but I welcome them back!

AI, of course, was THE TOPIC of the year. My primary interaction with it consisted of using the SUNO app to create musical arrangements of FITK poetry and posts and turning them into ‘videos.’ I also used image AI to create obviously artificial visuals as an illustrative tool, not to imitate reality. AI music implementation is a developing situation—appears the big music publishing firms will co-opt it in the future. For now at least, it appears that we ‘small fry’ are safe from being gobbled up by the corporate leviathans, a situation which could change overnight. The eye of Sauron is fickle.

My love/hate relationship with internet content continues.

Love: my usual diet of creators hasn’t changed much this year (see sidebar) although Bill Nighy’s droll podcasts have been a welcome addition. Just the right length for session on my ancient ski simulator. Rick Beato’s interviews with musicians continue to set the standard for long-form (1 hour+) interviews, making for a real workout. I have also been become more involved with a photograhic forum, many of the images first posted here wind up there. I’m also part of a “photo-collective” which meets IRL (that has its own set of rewards.)

Hate: ChatGPT‘s insidious invasion of the internet, with unasked for ‘pop-up’ info panels that state the obvious at the price of the essence of what it is that you are seeking. This has escalated in the last couple of months, another trend I don’t see diminishing. I’ve been able to minimize its effects through settings on my browser (Firefox’s about: config settings are a blessing) but I fear that the situation won’t be getting any better unless I can harness AI to ferret out and destroy AI interruptions. YouTube is rapidly undergoing a shittification process with its deletion of previews in the timeline and putting playback speed behind a paywall.

Diligent readers may remember my travel posts this year: Santa Fe in February; Minneapolis in April; Ely, Minnesota in August; and, of course, Iceland in October and November. Any travel plans for 2026 remain unsettled, although Seattle in the early spring looks promising and a lake stay with the grand kids in the summer may occur. My musical horizons seem to be shrinking, the local bands I have liked in the past are becoming fewer and those that do remain perform less. The Minnesota State Fair usually has a good slate of acts although they too have had retrenchments. I’ll continue reviewing mystery novels from time to time as there are almost infinite possibilities in that genre. Special note must be made of my rediscovery of Reshma Sanyal’s poetry (published here twenty years ago) which I turned into lyrics augmented by AI-generated music backing. I’ve put these songs on the playlist for my car; they seem to become more interesting every time I listen to them:

sunrise.
just. call me.
Twinned
Where Will My Eden Be?
Lines of water, water lines

A full list of all my videos (musical, visual, AI-assisted and otherwise), is here.

Besides Reshma, I've had interactions with my old blog-pals Maria, DJ Cousin Mary and Karen Heathwood. I’m always glad to hear from them. Bob the Scientist from Ireland stops in from time to time as does Minnesotastan. I find it curious that these are/were all Blogspot bloggers, which says something about the longevity of that platform (TypePad, anybody?) The life of this blog (21+ years) has far exceeded my wildest dreams.

Thanks again for stopping by, my hope is that Flippism is the Key will continue to entertain, enlighten and surprise in the future.

By Professor Batty

Comments: 0

Monday, December 29, 2025

Leyndardómur Víðimelur 29

Víðimelur 29, Reykjavík, November 2025:
Víðimelur 29, Reykjavík, November 2022:
It has been at least three years that this apartment building (in the desirable Vesturbæjar area in Reykjavík) has been undergoing restoration. There are proper front doors now (top image) but any further work seems frozen in time. My daily walk to Vesturbæjarlaug (neighborhood swimming pool) often went by this handsome and sizeable structure (it appears to contain at least eight units) and is the biggest house-like structure of its kind in the area.

This situation begs the question: What is going on here?

The City of Reykjavík has been suffering from a housing shortage for several years now, there certainly wouldn’t be any problem filling it with renters. Last year the city made short-term rentals (i.e., Airbnbs) prohibited in non-summer months, ostensibly to increase supply during the school year (the University is a couple of blocks away.) Rather than alleviate the situation the move favored hotels but penalized private owners from benefiting from renting out spare rooms or flats. Víðimelur 29 would be perfect for either use but sits empty. Perhaps the property owner/contractor went bankrupt or was incapacitated in some way.

I’m not an expert on Icelandic real estate but no matter what the situation here it seems that something funny going on at Víðimelur 29, perhaps Inspector Erlendur could look into it.

*Leyndardómur = mystery

By Professor Batty

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Friday, December 26, 2025

The Two Towers

During my recent trip to Iceland I found myself sitting in one of the larger ‘hot pots’ in Vesturbæjarlaug, one of the municipal outdoor swimming pools in Reykjavík.

As I was sitting near a couple of men I caught the Brooklyn accent of one them and ultimately became engaged in conversation with them. As is its wont (it must be something in the water?), the conversation flowed from one subject to another. The Brooklyn native had lived in Iceland since 2006 and excepting Icelandic grammar, mostly enjoyed his experience there. One thing he didn’t care for was the relentless construction in the old harbour area: charmless hotels and brutalist high-rises built for the rich that cut off the views across the harbour.

There was one recent construction he mentioned, two new towers that neither he or his companion knew the purpose of. I hadn’t seen it yet, but I put it in my ‘mental file’ and, sure enough, I spotted it the next day.

It was on Sæbraut, a little east of where I was staying, and I could see that these towers were stairway/elevator shafts, no doubt the core of a new hotel or high-rise. When complete, the building would block the view of Esjan, the magnificent mountain range across the bay unless you were staying in a $1000-a-night hotel room or had a luxury condo.

Something gained for a few, something lost for the many.

By Professor Batty

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Wednesday, December 24, 2025

Christmas Love

For Bonnie…

By Professor Batty

Comments: 0

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ©Stephen Charles Cowdery, 2004-2026 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .