Tag Archives: history

Happy Birthday, Zip Codes!

Today is the 50th birthday of the zip code system! I’m about to learn you something about location-based, governmental number systems! First, enjoy this list of noteworthy zip codes (HOLLER, MISSISSIPPI!) and this Marvelettes song about when you just called an operator and listed the neighborhood someone lived in and a four digit number and that somehow got them on the phone.

Okay, so this is cool. When I was finishing college and praying I would manage through a class called “probability” (a.k.a. the “valley in the shadow of death” Psalm 23 talks about), I stopped shuddering in the corner long enough to hear my (very sweet, very competent, very Mormon) TA explain something about zip and area codes!

So zip codes were assigned more or less northeast to southwest, emanating from New York City metro area. They’re more or less random numbers, though there isn’t a 00000 or a 99999. Other than that, a zip code in the low numbers is east coast, high numbers is west coast, and in the 50,000 range is going to be Iowa. 40241 isn’t necessarily next to 40242, but they’re both in Louisville, Kentucky. It’s almost-sensical, but not quite.

Area codes, though. Area codes. Originally, area codes were either 212 or 202. This is to say the middle number had to be 0 or 1. Each state, more or less, got one or two, depending on its size. Hence, Kentucky: 502 is Louisville, for example. 606 is everything east of Lexington. Everything else (270, 859) got invented later when they ran out of numbers in that format. Some states, like Wyoming, only have one still (307). So now, if you meet someone from a _0_ area code, you know they’re either from a big city and a longtime resident (see Los Angeles 310), or from a state with few people (Rhode Island, 401). If they’re from a 954, you know it’s a secondary city or a boomtown.

I swear, this sounds boring, but you REALLY impress people when they give you their number and you’re like, “oh, Steve, you said you’re from North Carolina…984, what is that, outside Durham?” People think you’re so smart.

Crazy Look in My Eyes

So I can or cannot assume my neighbor is going to wear my skin like a suit based on the angle of his chin?

Princess Lilian: Babe/Cool Lady/Feminist

Today, I bring you an obituary of sorts for one of the unlikeliest royals imaginable, Lilian Davies.

Image

Seriously, that hair. I bet you are wondering, “how did Lilian Davies become Princess Lilian? Is Davies the official last name of Swedish Royals?” “It’s a long story” and “no” are the answers to those questions.

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It has come to my attention…

…that it is Presidents’ Day. I haven’t paid any mind to arbitrary government ditch days since high school (when I stopped getting the day off), and discovered this when I tried to go to the bank and discovered that that was not in the cards for the day.

The next step, obviously, was to try and celebrate in some way, even though this is a completely fake holiday. I don’t own one of those barrister’s wigs (though I would like to!), so dressing up in period costume is strictly out this year. That leaves me with no choice: I must search Etsy for Thomas Jefferson-themed memorabilia (favorites, if I can call them that, included this, this, and this). It is something of a dream for me to one day own a bust of the man himself like my friend Will’s parents own one, and they dress him up for holidays. I am in favor of this in all its iterations, and really liked his Halloween costume last year (Abraham Lincoln).

Anyway, what I actually did was go to Zachary Taylor Cemetery. It’s near my house, and it’s probably Louisville’s only legitimate presidential tie (though the aforementioned 16th president is totally from Kentucky so don’t let any Illinois poseurs tell you otherwise). I got a pretty shot, so I thought I’d share it with you.

If you squint, you can see Ole Rough and Ready's mausoleum yonder.

If you squint, you can see Ole Rough and Ready’s mausoleum yonder.

The pictures I took AT the mausoleum were just creepy and not very illustrative, so let’s just pretend those didn’t happen.

Now that I did my nominal history stuff, I’m going to celebrate the true meaning of Presidents’ Day: shopping for a new juicer at Macy’s.