Last weekend with Daughter before she goes back to school, and it starts with a Friday afternoon COVID test. If they open, that is. A blizzard is predicted. It’s snowing now. Lovely and soft and utterly right for January. No complaints.

This last weekend will be hard, I think - although of course you can say hah! They come back, especially these days. I suppose you’re right. There’s always next summer, I hope, but really, you oughtn’t want them back. It’s selfish.

Anyway, I took her back to the dentist’s today, and will take her to the testing station tomorrow, a few little examples of feeling useful, a 20-year tradition of taking her to things and then waiting until the things are over. Can’t lie: enjoyed the time in the car. Enjoyed being useful. Enjoyed being reminded when there years and years of practical, everyday dadhood ahead.

The older I get the more I disbelieve these cases of assembly-line mishap.

It has bene FULLY FUDGED.

Brother, I know the feeling. We all do.

But this is a lie.

The older I get the more I disbelieve these cases of assembly-line mishap.

If we are to accept this, something went awry in the manufacturing process, and no one noticed until there was an unbelievable quantity of damaged goods. If it was a small run of mistakes, they could discard them and move on. But apparently so many were made that they had to be sold, or the company’s future was in jeopardy. Quick! Mock up some graphics for a new package, send them to the sales agents! Move! Move!

I believe we saw this first with Captain Crunch: Ooops, All Berries. We could believe the mistake, because Captain Crunch, for all his addled distraction and hapless bumbling, did command a certain amount of affection. And of course there’s the rank. One could easily see how a seafaring man with a sideline in breakfast cereals could let this happen. An old salt wouldn’t be on the factory floor, inspecting everything that came tumbling out of the cereal-combinator.

When it happened the next year, I think the mask was off.

Now consider this example. It’s a mistake, because obviously only a fool or an amateur would have never considered the idea of a cookie coated entirely in fudge! But we know such things exist. The difference here is that they only stripe. That’s their niche. But by coating the entire cookie in fudge, they make you want more fudge, and thus it seems it will be more difficult to get people back to the stripes.

Unless.

Unless this is a ploy to get people to accept the striped-fudge paradigm because they sampled the world of Whoopsy Fudge, and were eventually disgusted by their own appetites.

 

The parking lot makes for an ugly setting, and it's not going to change.

The reflected view is better.

The weekly sweep:

NO I CAN'T STAND IT ANYMORE you say. The same damned thing! Except of course it's not. It's just a bit different every week. And remember: one day we'll all walk in the front door, and it'll be grand because we've been watching this go up since day one.

And then security will ask me to stop filming, and that'll be that.

On the other side of town, the Larking:

Again, it's rote. But I encourage all tall construction downtown, if the alternative is something else. For example, another shot from this week:

This was nothing a few years ago. See the crane in the very back? That's the RBC site.

And on the other side of downtown from the Larking, the tallest building constructed downtown in a quarter century continues up. The Eleven.

This area ten year ago: barren and unpopulated.

 

It's another word for "audio recording."

 

It may be obvious to you, but it stumped me.

Solution is here.

 

 

Little old bits of bygone radio here.

   

 

There's a piece of a James Bond theme in there, no? Not the theme, the rattling dum-de-de-dum one, but another movie theme. Do you hear it?

 

 

   
 

Wait a minute . . . WHO? The author of the most famous bad line in English literature!

And what the hell is this? It's a serial, and doesn't seem to be aimed at the grown-ups.

 

 

 

 
   
All the girls used to go outside and wait for the rain of tennis balls, signifying the start of the Blood Festival
   

 

   
Well? Do you?
   

That'll do! See you around.

 

 

 
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