Last Sunday’s column had an error. Alas. There will be a correction in Sunday's column. As long as I’m correcting myself, some other errors that went unanswered over the many years I’ve written fro the paper. I regret the errors and will lock myself in a dark room with water and Zweiback. So:
* A 2002 column confused the center of Brooklyn Park with Brooklyn Center and a park in Brooklyn Center with Brooklyn Park, and presumed that St. Cloud was named after the patron saint of intermittent sunshine.
* I referred to Jesse Ventura as the “Governor of Minnesota.” This was based on the best evidence available at the time, but was subsequently revealed as a bizarre dream from which the state awoke with a scream, entwined in soaked sheets.
* A 2007 column about the Minnehaha Falls incorrectly stated that the meter of the famous poem “The Song of Hiawatha” - you know, BY the shores of Itchygoochie / STOOD the Hamms Bear with a big grin - was trochaic tetrameter. The meter is actually “incredibly boring.”
* Several columns that used the term “light rail” may have given the wrong impression; both the rails and the trains that run on them are, in fact, considerably hefty.
* Due to a miscommunication with copy desk, the phrase “touch one more line of my work without asking me and I swear I will find you in a dark alley’ was included in a column; it should have read “dimly-lit parking lot”
* Contrary to an assertion in a 1999 column, the Pillsbury Doughboy did not serve in World War One
* Several columns have mentioned Target in a favorable light, but did not disclose that I have received several free items from the company, ranging from a wedge of breaded chicken patty in a paper cup with Archer Farms Stone-Ground Mustard to a segment of an energy bar which is on sale with a coupon this week. I did not disclose the relationship at the time because you got to be freakin’ kidding me.
* For weeks I have told my wife I have every intention of changing that lightbulb in the closet; I obviously have no such intention, since it’s still out. I regret the error.
* In a series of conversations with my dog I have asked him who is a good boy, knowing full well that he is a good boy yes he is.
* The photo for this column is out of date and does not reflect changes in my appearance, such as a garish dueling scar and a set of hairplugs that make me look as though I smeared Chia Pet paste on my head.
I’m sure there’s more. Oh - the UPI quote about gladly correcting? It was actually used by AP. BZZZZ.
Today we got a tour of the new building.
Holy JEEZUM crow.
This is THE HUB; all the editors sit around in a circle, coordinating coverage.
One of the lobbies:
My desk is smaller than the one I have now, with no window view. I don't care. Everything is so sleek and fresh and clean - I've never worked in a place like this, which I suppose is one of the perils of working in newspapers. But it feels like we just leaped 20 years into the future. And the building - I've always liked it, but now to work there with the fireplace and coffee shop and sofas in the lobby, the skyways to everything, the marvelous views . . .
Here's 45 seconds.
As usual for Friday, the Music Cues. Of course we begin with the Couple Next Door, and we send our best wishes to Peg
CND Cue #524 Another happy-skippy standby given more time to breathe.
CND Cue #525 Complete cue, start to finish.
Gunsmoke. The first cue is just another cue, with the usual mournful Western music accompanying a hard look from Marshall Dillon. The second - well, listen closely. Then tell me what his job was in Star Trek.
Gunsmoke That's a long, long cue for burning meat.
Gunsmoke Actor Hint: he didn't know it was pregnant.
Johnny Dollar cues from the final season, when they tossed out everything they'd used before and went with some hard-boiled stuff. It's great.
YTJD #10 When this show went noir, it went noir all the way. Enter: dame.
YTJD #11 I want this to by my theme music. Alas.
To round out the radio offerings, here's 1960 CBS ad for a show that ran for years - and very little survives. It too died in the great purge.
Second Mrs. Burton. The very name is scandalous!
Another thrift store find: The unbearable melancholy of the Longines Symphonette Society. This entire set seems to be aimed at older women who are drinking alone and remembering better days while the last autumn leaves fall and the bitter winter approaches.
The Night is Young. Ah. If only.
The Sixties update awaits. Have a grand weekend! See you on the other side of the break.