Summary of “How Michael Vick’s dogfighting case changed animal welfare”

These dogs are reminders that even now, 12 years later, survivors of former NFL quarterback Michael Vick’s dogfighting operation live on in pockets throughout the country, including here at Best Friends Animal Society’s 3,700-acre sanctuary.
For 47 dogs pulled from Bad Newz Kennels, there was another, less publicized development that helped change how dogs taken in large-scale dogfighting busts are treated.
Because Vick’s fame turned the dogfighting bust into a national story, not just a conversation in the animal welfare community, many watched with curiosity or skepticism, wondering whether a dog from a traumatic past could ever live normally in society.
Best Friends said a dog escaped its run and broke into the run of Vick dog Tug, who broke into Denzel’s run.
When her dog died, she reached out to BADRAP. Only then did she learn the dog she had fallen in love with came from the Vick case.
Until her recent death, Mya lived with Curly, another Vick dog, in the same run where the dogs from this case were first housed.
Leaders from across animal welfare met to confront the issue, and it prompted the Humane Society to adjust its stance on dogs seized from fight busts.
Uba, a Vick dog who lives with Letti de Little in northern Virginia, has a housemate named Jamie, a dog from a 2013 multistate fight bust in which 367 dogs were seized.

The orginal article.

Summary of “Mom, in Touch”

Clockwise from top left: an image of the notebook kept by the author’s mom, Cinde Johnston; the author and her mom in Big Bend National Park, around 1995; the author at her paternal grandparents’ house, in Arlington; the author, age 3, with her mom and dad, Charles Johnston, around 1993; with her mom in 1991; the final note, discovered by the author when she was 23; the author and her mom outside their Huntsville home in November 1990.
Every morning, just before heading out into the predawn light to her job as a dentist for the Texas Department of Criminal Justice, my mom would hunch over the laminate countertop in our dimly lit kitchen and scribble a note for me.
My mom had a particular attachment to handwritten notes.
At the same time, I was morphing from an oval-faced kid into something resembling an adult, one who looked and behaved much like my dad. At every milestone I was becoming ever more distant from the girl that my mom knew.
Her father left when she was a kid, and her mother dropped in and out, so my mom spent many of her teenage years taking care of her siblings.
At first I’d consumed the notebook so rapidly that the fact of its existence-that it was here, and my mom was not-was all that registered.
“Abby, Mom went to school a long time to become a dentist, and there is really not a way I can stay home with you. When you’re older, and understand more, maybe my hours will be flexible enough to spend time with you.”
In the first moments she learned of her cancer, my mom was not thinking about the pain or the treatments or the daunting uncertainty.

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Summary of “My Family’s Slave”

“Maybe your Mom and Dad won’t let me go home.”
The leap across the ocean brought about a leap in consciousness that Mom and Dad couldn’t, or wouldn’t, make.
My mom kept herself together enough to go to work, but at night she’d crumble in self-pity and despair.
Doods veered northwest on the Romulo Highway, then took a sharp left at Camiling, the town Mom and Lieutenant Tom came from.
The day before Mom died, a Catholic priest came to the house to perform last rites.
The priest asked Mom whether there was anything she wanted to forgive or be forgiven for.
Some of what I learned: She was mad at Mom for being so cruel all those years, but she nevertheless missed her.
A couple of hours later at the hospital, before I could grasp what was happening, she was gone-10:56 p.m. All the kids and grandkids noted, but were unsure how to take, that she died on November 7, the same day as Mom.

The orginal article.

Summary of “Searching for Adolfo”

After the chance encounter with Adolfo, Bender became Juan’s replacement as a mountaineering partner.
Bob Cenk, an American climbing guide who became close friends with Adolfo and Bender during trips to Mendoza, said the two of them were like “Bulls pushing each other-neither one knew when to stop.” And although Cenk didn’t consider either of them to have been particularly skilled at technical climbing, he estimated that Adolfo and Bender each had half a dozen summits along Aconcagua’s Normal Route before they disappeared.
Calls with Juan, I’d noticed photos of Adolfo lining the walls of his Buenos Aires home.
Juan drove me past their childhood home, sold long ago, and described the heartbreak that Adolfo’s disappearance had caused for his parents, both of whom passed away never understanding why their second child had been so obsessed with the mountains-only that the mountains had so suddenly and cruelly claimed him.
Juan drove us up to Puente del Inca, pointing out the Andinistas Cemeterio-a graveyard for climbers who have perished on the mountain-a few miles before the trailhead. Juan, who had been to the cemetery many times, was not interested in stopping, but I’d visit on my own later, finding the walled-in plot completely silent but for a few tattered flags flapping in the wind.
Juan had told me that he and other members of the Benegas family always preferred to honor Adolfo closer to where he lies, near the South Face.
Over the past 28 years, Adolfo’s dreams have taken Juan around the world.
Juan believes Adolfo’s and Bender’s bodies are inside one of the two glaciers on the South Face.

The orginal article.

Summary of “Céline Dion is Everywhere”

The way a dream might start: I’m in a boat riding down a canal inside a shopping mall that is also somehow Venice, and Céline Dion is my gondolier.
For the remainder of the ride, my gondolier, who moonlights as a Céline Dion impersonator, slips back into character, and we pretend to pretend that we’re in the real Venice.
I try to imagine Céline Dion googling herself, picture her typing “Céline Dion impersonator” into a search bar.
The only catch was they needed someone who could do double duty as Céline Dion.
Seems apocryphal, even though it’s true: twelve-year-old Céline Marie Claudette Dion of Charlemagne, youngest of fourteen children, beloved but accidental coda to her warm, musical family, stands in René Angélil’s office, sings a capella, and brings the Québécois music mogul to tears.
In 1990., three nights into the tour for Unison, her first studio album in English, Céline Dion lost her voice.
Two plus two plus the gondolier makes five, and Céline Dion is here for it.
One morning, before the sun is all the way up, Steven Wayne sends me a text: “I met Céline Dion last night.” There’s a picture of the two of them pressed together as if conjoined: Steven-Céline in a black, sequined gown embellished with silver stars, Céline-Céline in a bedazzled cap and pants like a denim cocoon.

The orginal article.

Summary of “Why Can’t California Solve Its Housing Crisis? – Rolling Stone”

The lot’s first night of operation was last November, a couple of weeks after San Jose voters rejected a small property-tax increase that would have funded the construction of affordable housing.
Housing has been one of San Jose Mayor Sam Liccardo’s top priorities since he took office in 2015.
Four years ago, Liccardo set a goal to create housing for all of San Jose’s 7,400 homeless.
In the past five years, San Jose has built only one unit of housing for every six jobs it’s created – a recipe for rising rents, rabid competition for available units, and, ultimately, economic evictions like the ones many of the families in the parking lot described when Rolling Stone visited in March.
San Diego, East Palo Alto, and L.A. have all opened safe parking lots in 2019; Mountain View and San Francisco are poised to follow suit, as demand for housing is far outstripping supply, and the resulting astronomical rents are pushing people out of homes and onto the streets.
IF THERE WERE ever a year in which California seemed poised to finally fix its housing crisis, it was this year.
“The pieces all started coming together about why housing is so scarce, and why people are getting evicted, and why it takes years and years to approve new housing,” Wiener says.
At the start of the legislative session this past January, the housing committee introduced a slate of bills focused on streamlining approvals for new construction, protecting renters, funding affordable housing, and, most controversially, reforming zoning laws.

The orginal article.

Summary of “How IBM’s ThinkPad Became A Design Icon”

It’s a striking black laptop called the IBM ThinkPad. More precisely, it’s the first ThinkPad laptop, the 700C, which was announced over 25 years ago, on October 5, 1992.
PC Magazine’s Matthew J. Ross called it “Superb” as well as “Bold and a great success” and concluded his review by proclaiming that “After years of designing undistinguished portables, IBM has finally gotten it right.” Magazines such as BusinessWeek and PC Computing gave the 700C awards; IBM claimed that the ThinkPad racked up more than 300 honors in its first few months.
Any citizen of late 1992 who encountered a modern ThinkPad such as the X1 Carbon would likely be blown away by the machine’s thin-and-light form factor-less than a third the thickness and weight of the 700C-and high-resolution screen, and would certainly be confused by it carrying a Lenovo nameplate rather than that of IBM. But if that person was familiar with the ThinkPad 700C, identifying the X1 Carbon as a ThinkPad would be easy.
2016’s ThinkPad X1 Carbon, both thoroughly modern and clearly a ThinkPad. If you’re looking for parallels to the longevity of the ThinkPad brand and signature design elements, you’re more likely to find them in the automotive industry than the PC business.
The ThinkPad design aesthetic has been so familiar for so long that it’s easy to lose track of the fact that it was originally a departure from the norm, not just for IBM but the entire PC industry.
The ThinkPad soon became enough of a status symbol that the very fact it was a ThinkPad helped it command a price premium over garden-variety rivals.
“The second we moved to Lenovo, the first thing we needed to do was convince people that it was the same people, the same team,” says Peter Hortensius, who first contributed to the ThinkPad as an IBM engineer and ended up managing the business at both IBM and Lenovo.
The Yamato lab working on ThinkPad engineering, still led by Naitoh, currently has more than 400 employees, 44 percent of whom are former IBMers who were part of the ThinkPad team when Lenovo took over almost 13 years ago.

The orginal article.

Summary of “The Legend of Baltimore Jack”

Baltimore Jack took his handle from the first line of “Hungry Heart,” Bruce Springsteen’s 1980 hit song: Got a wife and kids in Baltimore, Jack / I went out for a ride, and I never went back.
In the years between college and hiking, almost as if he was working toward abandonment of his birth persona, it appears that Adam began referring to himself as L.A. Tarlin, then Baltimore Jack Tarlin, and finally, to most, just Baltimore Jack.
The Appalachian Trail was a very different place in 1995, the year Baltimore Jack first set out.
Adam’s friendship with Miller became one of the few that threaded into the Baltimore Jack era, and she was one of the people to whom Adam could expose his deep sense of loss.
To a White Blaze commenter who questioned the nutritional value of Pop-Tarts as trail food, Jack countered: “Pop Tarts are a perfectly sensible thing for folks to eat at breakfast time.” Jack recommended at least four per meal.
Photos of Baltimore Jack starting in the late 2000s show a person who is unrecognizable from the handsome, slick Adam I knew.
Jack made the change part of his legend; strangers began to offer tributes of whiskey and Little Debbie snack cakes, bringing them directly to Jack or leaving them on the trail with notes.
A search of Appalachian Trail message boards led Mertz to Adam, who by then had become Baltimore Jack.

The orginal article.

Summary of “Quanta Magazine”

Modern humans are the products of a sprawling history of shifts and dispersals, separations and reunions – a history characterized by far more diversity, movement and mixture than seemed imaginable a mere decade ago.
Clues are emerging about the unexpected influence of gene flow from ancient hominins on modern human populations before the latter left Africa.
Some researchers are even identifying the genetic contributions modern humans might have made to those other lineages, in a complete reversal of the usual scientific focus.
Using one such new technique, first in 2016 and then again in a preprint posted earlier this summer, Siepel and his team found that around 3% of Neanderthal DNA – and possibly as much as 6% – came from modern humans who mated with the Neanderthals more than 200,000 years ago.
The same group who gave rise to modern humans throughout the world also furnished Neanderthals with more DNA than the Neanderthals would later give them.
“You think you’re just looking at a Neanderthal,” Siepel said, “But you’re actually looking at a mixture of Neanderthal and modern human.”
Modern humans were thought to have evolved in Africa after the departure of Neanderthals and Denisovans, and to have remained on the continent until their well-known out-of-Africa diaspora 60,000 years ago.
Fossil evidence has indicated otherwise: A human jawbone in Israel, reported last year to date back to 180,000 years ago, and a skull fragment in Greece that’s even older, indicate earlier human migrations.

The orginal article.

Summary of “Why the Forgotten Music of the 2003 to 2012 Era Should Be Celebrated”

I can call my favorite music from 2017 right up on my phone, because I make year-end playlists in both Apple Music and Spotify and post them on Twitter at Christmas.
The music of the mid-aughts to early-teens is largely gone, lost down a new-millennium memory hole.
The Deleted Years, by my count, ran from 2003 to 2012-give or take a year or two on either side-from the time the Apple Music Store opened to right around when we really started to use Spotify.
In the early years of the new millennium, the music industry was crashing from its decadent late ’90s peak, and record stores were beginning to drop like the early victims in Contagion.
If you were an early adopter of Apple Music Store, as I was, everything you bought from 2003 to 2009 is stuck on a dusty iPod for which a charger can no longer be found, or on a MacBook that’s three MacBooks ago.
BBC countdown mainstay Top Of The Pops aired its last episode in 2006, with the indignity of its final number one being Shakira’s “Hips Don’t Lie.” Two years later-and long after MTV had abandoned music videos in favor of teen moms-Total Request Live ended its run, with its last chart-topper being Ne-Yo’s “She Got Her Own” featuring Jamie Foxx and Fabolous.
At the same time, the internet changed music from something you bought to something you experienced; the growing presence of Pandora allowed you to hear a song you might like based on the songs it knew you did like, but unless you were right at your laptop to clock an artist and a title, you might never hear it again.
The world remains chaotic for the music fan of 2019, of course, but at least our Spotify and Apple Music playlists remain.

The orginal article.