Maps: Yeah, Yeah, Yeah

I was raised in a small town outside the city of Albany, New York. The name of the town is Old England, and on many updated maps, does not show. Why? The answer is politics. As you may or may not know, the foremost map-making corporation in the world is Rand McNally. When the company first started back in 1856, they wanted their world-wide headquarters to be in Old England. The town mayor, Herbert Blimpton, and his council rejected the map company’s desire to set up shop within town limits. Rand McNally had no choice but to leave the area, and ultimately started their long domain of the industry in Chicago.

As a sort of vengeance, Old England is not featured on their maps. And if you look at the way the hills are drawn around Albany on topographic maps, you will notice they come together in a frowny face. The sad thing is that other map companies obviously just use the statistics and surveyors’ findings that Rand McNally uses. Therefore, Old England only appears on maps created before 1856. Most people think we’re just a small neighborhood in Albany. Just spend a few moments with any of us Old Englanders, though, and you’ll see that we don’t have the same cynicism and bravado of those who live in our state’s capital.

The mayor of Old England, 1856: Herbert Blimpton

The mayor of Old England, present: Herman Jacoby

Welcome

My name is Ian Jacoby, and I am 28 years old. I don’t have a middle name, a trait that every male member of the Jacoby lineage shares. The female Jacobys, like my Aunt Helen, all have two middle names as a sort of way of evening it out. The odd thing about that is they all have the same two middle names, Helen and Jane. Aunt Helen of course has bitterly complained (after one too many hits of the ol' drinky drink) about the redundancy that is her name, but family tradition and the threat of becoming a black sheep has prevented her from any kind of name change. Thus, Helen Helen Jane Jacoby has always been her name and will always continue to be.

I have decided to use the interweb, or information superhighway (a phrase I coined and NOT Nam June Paik) to post my biography since nobody has accepted my manuscript.


Aunt Helen Helen Jane's Vice: Too many sips of the drinky-drink.



My Vice: Repeated listening of books on tape, usually Tolstoy, and in his native Russian. I hope one day to understand what is being read to me.