Charles Lindpig blog.

Fairly busy day at the magazine factory. A good deal of cutting and polishing: two features out the door, or rather, send by electronic pathways to other hands, that will do different kinds of cutting and polishing. Little time to go out at lunchtime, but it rained -- rained, not snowed --most of the day anyway. Then, by nightfall, it started snowing. But it was sissy snow, flakes that melted on the ground.

The subject of Lindbergh inspired this from brother Jay: "I asked Robert -- the only one of your nephews at hand -- to identify Charles Lindbergh. His response: 'Ahh, um, Lindbergh baby?' I reminded him that Lindbergh had flown the Atlantic. Oh, yes, he said, he'd heard that but he had forgotten. Admittedly, he looked about half asleep when I put the question to him. [Robert is 15.]

"Out of curiosity, I sent e-mails to the other boys [Sam and Dees] putting the question to them, too. I know Dees is familiar with the name, at least, because of a Halloween costume he's worn the last two or three years. It's a plastic pig's head mask and a blue-grey rubber imitation of an old-style leather flight helmet. When asked who or what he was supposed to be, he identified himself as 'Charles Lindpig.' "

As it turns out, nephew Dees (18) couldn't place Lindbergh. He responded: "I actually don't have any idea who Charles Lindbergh is, although the name sounds familiar. When I see the name I think of the Simpsons episode where Granda [sic] Simpson says, 'No, I'm the Lindbergh baby.' "

Interesting how the Lindbergh baby echoes through the years, but maybe ghastly murders have that kind of staying power. It would be nice if they knew who Lindbergh the aviator was, but I'm not the sort who thinks something of this kind portents the End of Civilization. It only means that fame, even the greatest measure of it, fades. Though I'll bet Lindbergh's name has some life in it yet, if only among aviation buffs and Simpsons writers.