A rainy day kept everyone inside. Not that there is a superabundance of places to go, but you know what I mean. Usually the Gorls walk around the neighborhood with Birch, or Rotaria takes to the lakes for a run, but nothing but rain until after dinner. Bonus: lawn has greened up in the last few days quite nicely. Trees starting to bud. It may be a cool May, but at least it’s May -

That is the next month, right?

Well, the highlight, as always, was dinner, when we leave our various domains and assemble to recount the day. There is, unfortunately, little to recount, but we spin the dross into conversation anyway. Tonight Rotaria made a special eggplant dish whose recipe she got from her grandmother, and she readily admitted that grandma probably held back one key killer ingredient, so hers was always the best.

“‘The secret ingredient is lohv,’ she said with affectionate parody. It’s the same in all cultures.

Daughter made a point of asking why I referred to the Wuhan Flu as, well, the Wuhan Flu - are you trying to make a point?

Yes, that it’s the Wuhan Flu, and that’s what everyone called it until there was a general agreement amongst our chattering betters that we should call it COVID-19, as if we’d always used technical scientific terms instead of colloquial names based on origin, right or wrong. I used the term because it horrified people who seem to think that the term will make dumb-bubbas go cruisin’ around lookin’ for Asian people to beat up. I use the term because China would prefer that I not to. Want more?

Anyway. Productive time; filed two pieces, wrote over 50 web pages. Really: 20+ in the Coke ads section of the Soda ads section of the upcoming 50s site, 20+ for the Forgotten Cartoons of the 20s site, and 10 pages for the 80s ad section - which is my favorite, and feels somewhat bittersweet. It doesn’t seem that long ago. But, well, sic temps fugit tyrannis longas, or however that goes.

I thought I had more for today, but it turns out I don't. You know, a whole bunch of silly tweets, as we've been enjoying on Wednesdays.

It's okay if we don't. You know what they're saying.

Okay, one.

  Could happen! What will not happen: a follow-up piece that says "Why Georgia did not become America's No. 1 Death Destination, and why my piece revealed that I should not be consulted on any matter more serious than fixing a leaky toilet, although to be honest I screwed up installing the flapper and had to call a plumber, who had a Trump sign on his truck and let me tell you why he's voting against his interests."

Okay, one more.

It's a British paper, which apparently believes that entire geographical regions are panicking. Speaking of Britain:

If you sneak off into the woods for a picnic, you could be killing people and crippling the NHS, so shadowy peelers should manifest themselves and issue tickets.

Turns out thids wasn't well received:

Utter nonsense. Huge stonking heaps of bollocks. Walking to the dunes for a picnic, or heading to the field off Potter's Lane to enjoy the sun, is absolutely harmless, and everyone knows it, and it's corrupting the trust people would normally grant the authorities. As I once wrote about small-minded public officials: "I don't make the laws, sir, I just enforce them with a great deal of enthusiasm."





It’s 1905.

Enough of a name that Minnesota papers led with the news:

Fitzhugh Lee was a Confederate cavalry general in the American Civil War, the 40th Governor of Virginia, diplomat, and United States Army general in the Spanish–American War. He was the son of Sydney Smith Lee, a captain in the Confederate States Navy, and the nephew of General Robert E. Lee.





  But who’s Togo? Or Rojestvensky? News of the Russo-Japanese war, which did not go well forth Tsar - or rather, for the sailors lost in the imperialist effort.



“Government by injunction is becoming popular in Minneapolis.” People fought a trolley line.


There would, in the end, be a trolley.


It’s long, so let me summarize the top: Grover Cleveland wrote something about women’s clubs, and Susan B. Anthony, who didn’t like it, said someone else wrote it.

I call your attention to the second paragraph.

He is in trouble:

Trouble indeed.

Bowen was appointed by U.S. President Theodore Roosevelt as envoy extraordinary and minister plenipotentiary to Venezuela in 1901. After few days in Caracas burst the Libertadora Revolution a civil war, in which a coalition of regional caudillos headed by the wealthy banker Manuel Antonio Matos, allied with transnational corporations (New York & Bermúdez Company, Orinoco Steamship Company, the German Railway and the French Cable among others), tried to overthrow the president Cipriano Castro

Waaaait a minute, the Europeans tried to meddle as well? I’m shocked.

One month later the Britain, Germany and Italy fleets imposed a naval blockade against Venezuela by over President Castro's refusal to pay external debts and damages suffered by European citizens in the recent failed Venezuelan civil war.

Things calmed down eventually, and then:

When Bowen returned to Caracas in January 1904 he noticed Venezuela seemed more peaceful and secure. Castro would reassure him that United States-Venezuela relationships were at a high point.

However, after the Castro regime delayed fulfilling the agreements stated in Washington Protocols which ended the Venezuelan debt crisis of 1902–03, Bowen lost confidence after verifying the contributions to rebels of U.S. firms The New York & Bermudez Company and Orinoco Steamship Company at the end of failed movement to overthrow Castro, the government demanded them compensation of 50 million bolivars, but as expected the companies refused to pay.

After that Bowen was dismissed in 1905 for impropriety.

And there the Wikipedia entry ends. Why?

“Does Milady require inflation this morning? Very good.”




Minnesota Macaroni recipe. Anything seem odd?

THIRTY MINUTES. Was the stuff made of iron? It’s still around - just under a more well-known name.


Strained his neck while playing the piano:


It’s that damned neuritis again.

He’d survive. Died in 1941, at age 81 - while on tour.


There you go: here you are.




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