The most significant thing I did this week was rearrange my office furniture. Really: if previous rehabs are any indication, this will be the Way of Things for half a decade. Nothing else had much significance, apart from transferring money to Daughter’s account for her plane ticket back to Boston.

That’s an interesting little psychological give-away. Not to Boston, but back to Boston, as if that’s the default. Not here. I have to brace myself for the summer when she stays there and works, gets an apartment with friends, and you think well that’s it. She’s never coming back to stay for anything longer than a few days. Week at most. I’ve been spoiled, I suppose. Thank you COVID. Her room is full of books she’s reading now and things she’s working on now; it’s not a museum left in stasis while the curator of the objects shifts and morphs and grows up and out.

It’s going to end; I know it and accept it. Sad, of course. But grateful for the previous year.

You know how it goes. “We’ll miss you.” Smiles, shrug, yes, well of course. “Birch will miss you horribly.” Exaggerated sad wails: “DON’T SAY THAT IT’S TOO SAD HE’S JUST A DOG HE DOESN’T KNOW”

Dogs are lucky: they do forget. Things fade. But something remains to be reactivated. Some little collection of electricity maintains the memory of a scent, a dear scent, a very important thing that summons a torrent of emotions when the nose contacts the brain, rifles through the cabinet of bygone things, and finds a match. Then their entire essence ignites. Dogs do not believe in miracles but they experience them more than we do, perhaps. They have no name for it. They experience it fully, utterly, and completely.

And then forget about it. Fully, utterly, and completely.

It’s been a while since we spit derision on the link-chum craposystem that infests perfectly fine sites (cough) and clutters up Twitter feeds with dumb junk.

   
  Oh it’s quite possible I can solve this stumper.
   
  Groovyhistory, eh. Eerie, you say. Proceed with caution, you say. Yes, these rare photos, not seen ever before, have been unearthed by the tireless historical archeologists at groovyhistory, most of whom have no idea of anything that happened before Rugrats went on the air.
   
 

Here’s an example. DAMNED EERIE

I’M GLAD I WAS PREPARED FOR THAT

   
 

Standard moment on this site. No copy, just junk. By the way, if the camera wasn’t supposed to be rolling, it wasn’t a blooper. but I’m sure Paul Verhoeven fired his cameraman after he rolled without permission, and caught Sharon Stone in an unguarded moment of anger.

And please visit BUZZSUGAR which is completely different from the other sites that have 37 versions of “The camera crew saw more than they were supposed to when” or some such line that’s intended to suggest that a Brady Bunch actress flashed the entire set, which didn't happen, but the bulbous perv with grey hair in his ears will click 47 times before he gives up.

   
  This might be intended to get Boomers angry, and rage-click: durn tootin’ it was cool, you snapper of whips. BTW, that’s Cindy Crawford. Are we supposed to think she wasn’t cool? I'm outraged and will click many times!
   
 

Sick burn! Also please buy this plant-based shoe grown sustainably in Chinese labor camps.

By the way, the author's name and picture comes back to a real person, who set out five years ago to pursue political journalism. I know work is tight for writers but this is just sitting out there for any prospective employer to google. So . . .  tell me about your understanding of the ozone layer and your recommendations for fossil fuel replacement in the 50s.

   
 
This is one of my favorite types of link-chum: it tells you that the Authority Figures HATE THIS, then it trails off . . . . so you have to click!
   


It’s a magic device that overrides your router so it doesn’t throttle tour speed! The "author" of the piece - which is a totally real account you guys - was given one by her internet repairman who begged her not to tell anyone where she got it! He’d be in trouble with those fat cats in Washington!

Tiny tiny letters at the bottom: "THIS IS AN ADVERTISEMENT AND NOT AN ACTUAL NEWS ARTICLE, BLOG, OR CONSUMER PROTECTION UPDATE. The content depicted on this site and the material depicted therein are not actual news stories."

I hate all of this and keep telling myself to pay Discus the ransom to get them off the site, but I keep forgetting. I'm part of the problem. I apologize.

 

The RBC Building will be our main event, as you might expect. From a hole in the ground to the day we walk into the front door.

How's it been doing since we checke in two weeks ago?

The weekly sweep:

And, at the risk of boring you dead, the continuing saga of the Larking. <montypythonvoice> The Larking. </montypythonvoice>

 

Gather 'round, kids! Let's talk about cigarets.

 

Kid's been reading his Sherlock, hasn't he?

Solution is here.

 

 

 

What have we this year? More of the same, I suppose - with at least 16 solid hours of Strollin' Tom! Kidding.

   

 

Here's a rather meta moment. Lum is discussing what he heard on the radio. It's hard to square this with the idea that they'd not only done a few movies, but advertised them on the show. So they lived in a world in which they were aware of their movies but not aware of their radio show?

 

 

   

Here's the thing, though. The bit above was about themselves, of course.

But.

There was another parallel-universe Lum & Abner.

   

 

Eb and Zeb.

More about these fellows as the year goes on.

 

   

In other news, here's something we'll examine throughout the year: the Tell-Tale Horn. It's a car-crash sound effect that was over-used for a long time. You might already have heard it in your hand.

   

 

 

 

 

   

More through the year. I've been collecting these things for a long time. I now realize that reflects quite poorly on me.

Here's some art that makes perfect sense! Or not. Doesn't matter. It's the new era of album design. Time to shatter some paradigms.

 
   
You may wonder why I'd pay to host something and then go through the trouble of uploading and removing when I could just embed a link. Right?
     

Except it's different when it's a YouTube video. At least that's how I see it. But copyright wise, better safe than sorry.

   
1950. Eat your Wheaties!
   

So: what have learned this week? Lots! Without checking back, can you think what you learned?

Nothing? NOT EVEN DONALD SCHMEDRICK, transit scammer? Sigh. I'll try to do better next week. Now, back to Menu Cards - the site's been rehabbed and link-fixed, and we're doing another three months of updates. Because the Gallery is never done. It's my thing and I'm stuck with it.

 

 

 
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