Bit of a breeze today.

I expected to hear Celine Dion start to sing.

It snowed, but not serious constant purposeful snow.  Cold day. Perfect for finishing the taxes! While trying to solve a workplace internet problem! I had a null flowtoken, or something. Always fun when the tech support guy sighs and says "oh, man. Wow." We fixed it and learned nothing about why it happened.

2022 and I'm dealing with Internet Explorer in emulation.

Not the highlight of the day. I'm not sure the day had a highlight. The entire week has been highlight-deficient in every way, and I'm glad. It felt like a pause. I think I had taxes hanging over my head, waiting for the relief of filing. Which, of course, is immediately followed by the dread of geting the letter that says you did something wrong.

After 88 years suggests that some element we've come to expect as intrinsic to air travel has been changed in an important and unexpected way.

		This. This is the #1 trending story on Apple News.

A crap pop up, or Crap-up, which needs my urgent attention:

		It's the OFFICIAL state of the nation survey. All other are pretenders. I think I snipped this one because of the sponsor name, which didn't dwell too long on what "JFC" might mean to some. (It's "joint fundraising committee.")

I think I'm safe; don't have this problem

		This one pops up about 17 times a day. It is not the worst foot ad in the chum bucket. But it is the only one with flies. Flies.

My many hours spent studying ads of the 40s have exposed me to the absolute worst athlete's foot ads in scifi and Popular Science-type magazines.

They never went as far as flies.

No brick veneer yet. Just the chicken pox.

If this was some northern European city, I think they'd stop right here, and use this as the facade. It challenges norms!

It's always the needless details that trip them up.

Stupid jerk! Everyone knows there's no paper on Labor Day.

Solution is here.

A snippet from "Crime Club." An unremarkable show, somewhat annoying. Someone gets murdered, everyone reacts in a breezy, casual fashion, then someone solves the murder in a breezy, casual fashion, with the occasional steely amusement when a gun is produced.

What struck me here was a line that wouldn't work today, because it's not a common thing anymore.

They knew it then, because they had to.

This year we're counting down the top hits . . . of 1922. Why not? We'll get back to thift store records some other time, but why not use Fridays to educate ourselves on the pop music of a hundred years ago?

"Nobody Lied (When They Said I Cried Over Yu."

Wikipedia:

Marion Harris (born Mary Ellen Harrison; April 4, 1896 – April 23, 1944) was an American popular singer who was most successful in the late 1910s and the 1920s. She was the first widely known white singer to sing jazz and blues songs.

Later years:

In 1936, she married Leonard Urry, an English theatrical agent.[7] Their house was destroyed in a German rocket attack in 1941, and in 1944 she travelled to New York to seek treatment for a neurological disorder. She was discharged two months later.

She died on April 23, 1944, at Le Marquise Hotel from a fire that started when she fell asleep while smoking in bed.

No stories about it in the papers at the time. The Marquise latee became the Chandler. It's the one in the middle.

Google says it's permanently closed.

The week ends with an old ad, as ever. If you're of a certain age, you know what this is selling before the fellow starts to talk.

So, lackluster week. I know, I know. But  . . .

. . . we'll start it all up again on Monday.

Oh, and I was wrong. The week ends with menucards. What was I thinking?