Time Warp

This rustic spot in southwestern Lebanon County, less than two hours from Philadelphia off Exit 20 of the Pennsylvania Turnpike, not only represents nearly 100 years of summertime cultural activity, which continues with unabated vigor to this day, but is a treasure to aficionados of the time warp. Its wraparound Victorian "cottages" began to appear in the 1890s and still abound, cheek-and-jowl, within one of the thickest stands of stately evergreens one is likely to see in this part of the world.

W e have prepared the following Report, which demonstrates the systemic problems that permeate the Pennsylvania House of Representatives . . . " Thus begins the must-read document of the year: the grand jury report on Bonusgate that has grown into a scathing indictment of the "time- warped" Pennsylvania General Assembly. Twenty-three citizens identified only by their occupation - sheet-metal mechanic, food-service worker, clerk, coach driver, car salesman- could turn out to be the kinds of heroes of whom we build statues.

For those sentient beings already familiar with the significance of bathrobes, towels, and the number 42 in the Douglas Adams universe, the long-anticipated movie adaptation of the late author-cult god's The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy will likely be met with approving smiles, reverent discourse, and return trips to the box office. For the rest of us, unfamiliar with Adams' 1979 sci-fi spoof/stoner philosophy tome and its media shower of follow-ups (books, a BBC TV series, comics, computer games, etc.)

In a scrapbook found at the Historical Society of Montgomery County in Norristown, local historian Edward Hocker recounts how, at one time, colonial Pennsylvanians celebrated two separate New Year's Days. Until 1752, England, mother country of many local settlers, followed the Julian calendar, introduced in 46 B.C. by Julius Caesar. That calendar placed the beginning of the new year in England and all it ruled on March 25, which also was the Christian Feast of the Annunciation and the ancient Hebrew New Year.

I used to think that Australia was the land most caught up in a musical time warp, picking up on pop trends five or 10 years after they'd peaked in North America, the U.K. or Europe. But this week's pack of four home-grown CDs suggests the Delaware Valley also has its share of musical Rip Van Winkles - bands just waking up to the "newest" trends from "the '60s, the '70s and today. " On their second nationally distributed set, "Painted Pictures," Grey Eye Glances have been polished/packaged even more than on their first album for the boomer rock crowd.

The oddball comic fantasy "Man of the Century" deposits a 1920s newsman in modern Manhattan. He doesn't arrive in a time machine, he's just there, and apparently always has been - one of the movie's modest charms is that it doesn't bother to explain the jarring anachronism. The newsman, who calls himself Johnny Twennies, is the creation of writer/actor Gibson Frazier and writer/director Adam Abraham, who have made a keen study of movie lingo and film conventions from the '20s and '30s, and regurgitate it here to fast-paced funny effect, as when Johnny tells a gun-wielding thug to "go suck a lemon.

We have prepared the following Report, which demonstrates the systemic problems that permeate the Pennsylvania House of Representatives . . . " Thus begins the must-read document of the year: the grand jury report on Bonusgate that has grown into a scathing indictment of the "time- warped" Pennsylvania General Assembly. Twenty-three citizens identified only by their occupation - sheet-metal mechanic, food-service worker, clerk, coach driver, car salesman- could turn out to be the kinds of heroes of whom we build statues.

If it's possible for a very pregnant woman to slip through the cracks, Victoria Cramer did it. When Cramer pleaded guilty to a drunken-driving charge, she was within a month or two of giving birth. Bucks County Judge Isaac S. Garb looked down from the bench and decided to deliver his sentence after she delivered. Her punishment was deferred for 120 days. That was February 1988. And Victoria Cramer has never been back to the Doylestown courthouse. Last Thursday, she was scheduled for sentencing.

A year ago on this day, we were celebrating the end of communism in Eastern Europe and looking forward to the United States' shifting its emphasis from defending freedom abroad to combatting decay at home. So much for post-Cold War euphoria. This Thanksgiving finds the United States with a quarter-million troops in the Persian Gulf, while back home there is far more talk of war than of internal renewal. How did we all miscalculate so badly? The short answer, of course, is that no one was thinking about Saddam Hussein when we cheered the breaching of the Berlin Wall.

The room at the top of the stairs is beginning to look like a museum permanently displaying one exhibit. This one would be labeled: "The American Teenager, Circa 1980. " Almost four years ago, the permanent resident vacated this space to become a college student. She is now 21 years old. The room and its artifacts are frozen at age 15. The mother who lives here year-round comes in to look over the contents from time to time. There is the bookshelf whose time line extends from Dr. Seuss to Our Bodies, Ourselves.

WHO IS THIS Helen Gym, writing of conflicts of interest between politicians, their appointees and the awarding of $60 million in school contracts and expecting that something be done about it? Is she in some kind of a time warp? In the 1950s, when Mayors Clark and Dilworth swept up city corruption, and public schools happened to be a respectable institution, her opinion piece might have had some purpose. But this is 2011. We don't do things that way anymore. Edwin H. Smith, Philadelphia Bring back the protests!

When Robert Irvine entered Villari's Milmarian restaurant in Palmyra in May, he says, he stepped into a "time warp. " The TV chef and producer Marc Summers were on a mission to remake the restaurant, which opened in 1948, for the Food Network show Restaurant: Impossible . The series premieres at 10 p.m. Wednesday, and "the Mil" - a family spot on Route 73 - is the star. Irvine's use of time warp was not a term of endearment. Irvine said he smelled something off-putting when he sat down.

In his Northwest Philadelphia district office, State Rep. Dwight Evans employs 12 staffers to deal with constituents and organize community projects. Two pull in six-figure salaries, helping to tip his district staff budget just over $820,000 - the highest in the General Assembly. Evans' Harrisburg office staffing budget is even higher, at $1.4 million, bringing the cost of his personal and committee staff to $2.2 million. Just over nine miles away in West Philadelphia, a Democratic colleague, Rep. Vanessa Lowery Brown, has just four staff members in her district office - two of them part-timers earning $5,200 or less - and a staff budget of $63,000.

I'M HORRIFIED by your coverage of the duck-boat accident. As a lawyer, I handle noncriminal legal cases, but in this country, the accused has rights, and one is the right to remain silent. While the tugboat operator may not have been charged with anything yet, he may well be, and has every right not to talk to the police. I'm not suggesting he's innocent, or guilty. But to report that he's exercising his right to remain silent would seem calculated to aid the authorities in putting pressure on him to talk.

And so it came to pass that one Shirley Valentine, a homemaker in Liverpool who talks constantly to her wall, decided to go far beyond her wall. Her recently divorced lady friend wanted company on a trip to Greece and offered stuck-at-home Shirley airplane tickets. This was in the '80s, when British towns like Liverpool were prone to be working class for men, not women. That's changed; a study last year reported that more British women are working than ever before (although many have part-time jobs)

Harrisburg is the cash cow town that dares to dream big, especially when it comes to payrolls and power. While other states changed the way they did business, Pennsylvania is having none of that smaller-is-better efficiency nonsense. With 253 elected officials, and a legislative staff of 2,918, the largest of any state in both categories, we support the Hummer of state governments. Downsizing is for sissy states and private industries foolish enough to take note of the recession and actually trim waste.

We have prepared the following Report, which demonstrates the systemic problems that permeate the Pennsylvania House of Representatives . . . " Thus begins the must-read document of the year: the grand jury report on Bonusgate that has grown into a scathing indictment of the "time- warped" Pennsylvania General Assembly. Twenty-three citizens identified only by their occupation - sheet-metal mechanic, food-service worker, clerk, coach driver, car salesman- could turn out to be the kinds of heroes of whom we build statues.

Halfway through his commentary on a grand jury's searing report on Pennsylvania's legislature, Senior Commonwealth Court Judge Barry Feudale repeated a question that exasperated him. "Who the hell is the caucus," the judge wrote. The caucuses are the four partisan political machines that run the legislature. They don't easily give up facts about themselves; one of them even asked the judge to quash subpoenas during the Bonusgate legislative corruption probe. The Senate and House each have a Democratic and a Republican caucus, organizations headed by their party leaders, staffed mainly by the party faithful, and funded by taxpayers.

W e have prepared the following Report, which demonstrates the systemic problems that permeate the Pennsylvania House of Representatives . . . " Thus begins the must-read document of the year: the grand jury report on Bonusgate that has grown into a scathing indictment of the "time- warped" Pennsylvania General Assembly. Twenty-three citizens identified only by their occupation - sheet-metal mechanic, food-service worker, clerk, coach driver, car salesman- could turn out to be the kinds of heroes of whom we build statues.

The grand jury report urging sweeping changes to root out corruption in the legislature revived calls Tuesday from most corners of the capital for quick and dramatic action. But not from the legislature. Leaders there said the report does not reflect the legislature of today - one that has made a number of changes in its rules and operations to address some of the ills that grand jurors detailed in their scathing report released Monday. The report said the General Assembly lives in a " 'time warp' of public corruption" and needs to cut staff, institute term limits, and go part-time, among many other changes.