I'll explain this, in a minute.

Beautiful day. The weather app for yesterday had the rain icon; tomorrow it’s the partly-cloudy icon. Today it was just the wind icon, as if the matter of light or dark was irrelevant, because WIND. It’s supposed to be 101 on Monday - no, belay that, 99. A few days ago we were supposed to get 101 on Sunday, but they rescheduled that for Monday, then dropped it down two big degrees.

Stop the presses! We have new calibrations! All hands, now hear this! Reset all outgoing forecasts, and adjust Monday down two degrees, I repeat, two degrees!

It’s important because there are things I’d do when it’s 99 out, but 101? Forget it.

Anything else to report? Not really. An empty office today. Worked in silence, got a lot done. Filed a column. Drove home in a contemplative mood, enjoying the long jostle to get to my lane to exit. I have about three miles. The first part of the drive, leaving downtown, is a delight; a series of gentle curves you can take at a good speed and feel like you're driving. Then it joins the river of the freeway, and you have to get over. It's easily done, but you have to contend with the idiots: the speeding weavers. The ones who think "well, the police aren't pulling anyone over anymore" but don't realize that the Highway Patrol has a different set of ideas about these things. 

Oh, they'll pull you over.

This morning, now that I think of it, there as a Highway Patrol car on the freeway as I headed in, and everyone, of course, behaved. Sir yes sir. We were the most upright citizens you can imagine. Ten-and-Two on the wheel.

Well, I've no Detritus of any note, so let's get into some ridiculously minute stuff no one cares about.


Behold, the portal to the dead hotel. The old Crown Plaza, once the new Crown Plaza, once the old Northstar hotel. Given the style of the parking ramp to which it is affixed, it's an improvement.

The other day I saw a crew working on it, atop a cherry-picker operated by remote control.


Wonder what it'll be.

The entire building is being rehabbed, with a new hotel.

So many hotels.

And this?

I'd guess an acess port for maintenance to work on the old sign.

I'll be documenting the big rehab. You will come to enjoy this, I think. It's a story of a 1960s structure that established a new idea for downtown. Skyways! Indoor shopping! Now it's almost entirely vacant. The other day:

You can read more about the building at my site, here.


I suppose it's not entirely ridiculous; this was the era when the idea of a man gardening while wearing a suit was not out of the question.

And maybe he is! But probably not. Solution is here.



This will make old time radio fans sit up and say "what?" The question is twofold: 1) are those different cues woven together, and B) How did they get this music?



Orbiter X: An adventure in the conquest of space was a BBC Radio science fiction programme written by B. D. Chapman. Only a single series was produced which was broadcast by the BBC Light Programme on Monday evenings in late 1959. Presumed to have been wiped and lost, a set of discs of the entire series, recorded for the BBC Transcription Service, was discovered and restored.

The BBC had thier own music cue library, so why were they using something from the Yank show Dimension X? Perhaps you know my theory on that: it was always a BBC cue.  I heard it used in The Singing Detective, in 1986.

This is the theory that is mine.

This year we're counting down the top hits of 1922.

Our first entry this year from this fellow. Sounds so very old and creaky now, but it was actually quite spry and modern, in its own way.



Joseph Cyrus Smith was born in Sag Harbor, New York in 1883. He was a working musician by the time he was 16, and by 1903 was known for working in dance bands. In 1914 he landed the important post as resident dance band at New York's Plaza Hotel, where he stayed for nine years.

This makes sense:

Smith was instrumental in the transition from the heavy sound of military marching bands so popular before World War 1 to the lighter sounding dance music of the 1920s.

Someone had to lighten it up. I would've used a different word than "instrumental" to describe an instrumental, though. Also:

It was Smith's lack of use of instrumental soloists that led to his sound becoming outdated and the corresponding decline in his popularity as a recording artist.

Died in 1965 at 81, a resident of Miami Beach.


This is one way to sell a new soda, I guess. It's the new school of advertising, where they describe the making of the ad right in front of you!


Not a new idea at all, though. They did the same thing with coffee in the 40s.




There: another week! A Gallery update, of course. See you Monday.




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