The week went fast. I know this because I asked the girls to bring down their trash to go out, and Daughter said “already? again?”

Yes, that was a week ago.

“It was?”

Perhaps this is a function of everything bleeding together without the usual markers. You realize how much of your day depends on coming and going, leaving and arriving, to give it a sense of individual identity. Today I just walked the neighborhood with Birch; otherwise the main motion was going upstairs for a while and then going downstairs.

Had about enough of this, but we soldier on, in a sense that has nothing to do with actual soldiering.

Dinnertime discussion with Rotaria about the confusing new directives - we're supposed to send her home, except maybe not, but perhaps we should, because we're told by the exchange authorities there may not be flights available in July.

Huh? No. There will be flights. This isn't Contagion, with 37% of the infected barfing phlegm in field hospitals while they shudder off their mortal coil.

Besides, we're supposed to send her back to Spain now, which has 10X more restrictive lock-downs, instead of keeping her here, which is doing better than predicted, and has a backyard where she can rest in the sun? C'mon.

If Daughter had been stuck in Brazil during this, I'd have had her on the first flight out, and would not have been happy if she'd decided to say, but that's because, well, Brazil.

Every week it's getting a bit better, overall. Corners turned. Am I crazy? Did I hallucinate the week where we didn't have any ventilators and everyone was going to die?

I'm not saying it's over, not at all - but isn't this the opposite of what the future was guar-an-fargin'-teed to be a fortnight ago?

Okay, enough, done. Friday! Let's go:

Had to click on the link-chum junk bilge infestation link, because I'm a fan of the moronic "Secrets those fat cats don't want you to know" genre.

		Wow! Someone's gotten the inside skinny on Aldi, and they're going to blow it all WIDE OPEN! Secrets! They'll do anything to keep them from you. Many Bothans died to bring you this information! #5: while yes they are cheap, they are not as cheap as they claim. Boy, this is hot stuff.

What else can we learn from Morticia Addams here?

SCHMIDT! GET IN HERE! THEY FOUND OUT ABOUT THE AWARDS! SHUT THESE PEOPLE DOWN NOW!

DAMMIT, NOW PEOPLE WILL CALL INSTACART AND PURCHASE OUR WARES! HOW DID THEY FIND THESE THINGS OUT?

WHAT? THERE'S MORE?

OUR PLANS TO DEPLOY THE CLOAK OF INVISIBILITY - RUINED!

I should call Pat and ask him about the story, because I'm sure it'll take 25 clicks to find out.

Yes, I went downtown to walk around and do my usual documenting.

Nicollet Hotel Block tower: now we're talking.

Now it's safe to say whether you like the Public Health building, or don't.

I've decided I like it.

It's lighter than it looks, and all those lines are . . . slanted, if I can use a technical term.

From my vast collection of things with almost no monetary value whatsover, I bring you this week's entry.

The line on top says "Motor Ship." I can't find the name of the ship. It appears to be an issue dedicated to Binnenschifffahrt, or inland navigation; other sources say "Rivine Fleet."

Odd to think that the Soviets had cruise ships, eh?

Wouldn't see print today:

Lance would be sent off to sensitivity training

Solution is here.

This week's excerpts are from "Night Editor," which isn't to be confused with "Night Beat" or any other reasonably good newspaper drama. Ran for a long time, though - 1934 - 1948.

They made a movie; the fellow who did all the voices, Hal Burdick, didn't play the lead.

Now there's some writin', boys. Real poetical, like.
		I'm riveted
		Did they mention "Edwards coffee" earlier? They did
		Whoa, a second cup? You must be a real coffee lover

The fact that I played more ads than show should tell you something. Hal Burdick told the story and did all the voices, which was a neat trick, but you wonder why the Night Editor was sitting around the home-ec office telling tales when he had a paper to put out.

I know that illustrator, but can't place the name. It's the teeth that give him away.

This is corny, in a way, but I love these guys; they could play.

Did they ever patch the curtains like this, or did the cliche evolve outside of the actual truth?

		From 1976: Mufflers used to advertise on the radio.

That'll do; still here, still in place. Have a good weekend, whatever that means now.