There were 287 cases in the state. Of those, twenty-six were in the hospital. Without these measures, the governor said that "as many as 74,000" people could die.
The point, the article said, was not to reduce the number of infections, but to push off the peak to allow them to get more time to get masks, tests, and ventilators.
Another story highlighted the intense effort to put out hand sanitizers in stores, and disinfect everything.
The story had no "Two weeks to stop the spread" messaging. The lockdown was open-ended, although I seem to recall we thought it was supposed to be two weeks, then reviewed. In two weeks the headline would be "New Target - May 4" which was almost a month away.
The rules were adjusted to let landscapers go back to work.
On May 3 a story noted that the target date was now May 17. A "business analyst was quoted as saying he would still stay home because he thought "There wil be a couple of waves of death," and that the skyways should be all closed because they were a "cesspool" of disease.
On the 14th the lockdowns were modified: "faith gatherings of 10 or fewer" were permitted, and the paper noted that people "can leave the house more." Restaurants, bars, gyms, and the like would be closed until June 1st. Another order: "anyone who can work from home, must."
There was nothing on the front page on June 1st about COVID restrictions lifting, because it was the sixth day of the Floyd Protests.
Woke up around three, thinking: it’s raining.
It’s raining, and I have to clear the walk in the morning. I will be attempting to snowplow a foot and a half of slush.
Managed to make it back to sleep despite that depressing certainty. Woke, fortified myself with an egg and some bacon, realizing, as always, that I’d rather have sausage, and set to it.
What? Yes. I’d rather have sausage. Bacon’s good, if it’s fresh and the consistency you prefer. If it’s a bit overcooked, it’s like eating a stack of paint chips, albeit bacon-flavored paint chips. Sausage, especially the type I prefer, is much more interesting, and provides a medium for my extensive collection of hot sauces. Bacon is great. But it’s overhyped. At least we’re past the point where it was a stand-in for an actual personality. Where everyone was expected to make That Internet Face when the subject came up.
The snowblower fired up on the first push of the button, and -
What? Yes. It has a button. I know I should use the cord and yank it with a great manly effort, but this is the 21st century and a button, created for the specific purpose of igniting the gasoline without dislocating my shoulder, is preferable. I’ll take guff only from people who have a crank in the front of their car.
Early automobiles required a person to hand crank the motor to start it. Incidents often led to broken hands, wrists or even shoulders, but one accident was much worse. Byron Carter, the founder of Cartercar, came across a stranded motorist in Detroit during the winter of 1908. When the driver forgot to retard the spark the crank kicked back and broke Carter’s jaw. Due to complications with the injury Carter developed pneumonia, which eventually killed him.
What does the doc put on the death certificate? Technically, it's an automobile accident.
The electric starter was patented by Charles Kettering, one of those Great American Inventors we seemed to have in abundance. Anyway. I have a column coming about this, so I’ll spare you any more details, except to note that I was heading to my neighbor’s do to his walk and driveway when a part flew loose from my snowblower and the handle dangled. I found the part that had detached and was trying to reassemble it as fast as I could, because he was already outside and shoveling, and now it looks like “hey I’d like to help but gosh suddenly there is something wrong with my machine, sorry, can’t.” Which of course he would never think.
Nor would I. But you just want to pitch in as much as possible. It is the thing that neighbors do.
Always have. Always must.
I was watching an episode of “The First 48,” a non-fiction police procedural documentary series that’s gone on long enough for the murderer caught in season one to be released from jail after serving his entire 25. It’s been on forever, and I’d never heard of it until a few months ago.
Question: how long would it take you find this street corner in America?
And why would you want to?
It took me one minute, but that’s because I knew the city. The question is why anyone would care where this was. The answer either springs to mind immediately, or not. There’s no in-between. You see it and know, or you see it and shrug. This isn’t a value judgment, or an intelligence test, but it is a sign of interest in a particular aspect of American culture.
This tells us we're on Route 66.
This tells us what business to look for. Mind you, I'm doing this backwards, because I'm pretty sure I know a site where I'd get the location immediately, but I want to have some fun and discover it myself.
And there it is.
Before we get to the important part, let's go back to that Route 66 carving embedded in the ground.
It was part of a street beautification effort, celebrating the old road.
Sidewalk construction removed it. Alas.
Here's why I care. Screengrab from the show:
And today, Google Street View. Shall we say the holy phrase together?
One hand down. One hand up.
It is a Muffler Man, and of course that means you go to the Roadside America database. (I could've gone there at the start, of course.) Ladies and Gentlemen, say hello to Buck Atom.
It’s 1982.
Thank God for Billboard, since the supply of 80s magazines seems skant these days.
The Brothers Johnson!
Get the Funk! Outta my Face. Get! The! Funk. Outta my Face!
Thunder Thumbs and Lightning Licks!
They split up in 1982.
Did anyone notice at the time that she couldn’t sing?
I mean, she could, but there are moments in "Bette Davis Eyes" where she’s just horrid. We didn’t care, because it was a cool song, and it had that synth clap-attack sound that was fresh and exciting.
When your best efforts to dress up the band can’t disguise the fact that they’re all in their late 40s.
They weren’t, but they weren’t chickens of the spring. The band formed in 1965, which even in 1981 seemed like a long time ago. (Only 16 years, but in music terms, a long time.)
Now that’s the sort of modern art we love to see, because it’s the 80s and we are cool moderns who appreciate this new style:
But was it that new? I suppose it might have worked in the 70s, but there was a certain lot to the time, to the palette, the saturation, and other things I can’t quite describe.
Interesting trajectory:
Icehouse are an Australian rock band, formed in Sydney in 1977 as Flowers. Initially known in their homeland for their pub rock style, the band later achieved mainstream success playing new-wave and synth-pop music and attained Top 10 singles chart success locally and in both Europe and the U.S.
Two songs I remember: “Electric Blue,” which was okay, and “No Promises,” which was pure 80s.
I see we’ve rebranded somewhat:
Hah: I used that term without checking Wikipedia. Well:
In 1980, the Village People had starred in the motion picture Can't Stop the Music, but the film was released after disco's peak and was subsequently a box office flop, even winning the first ever Razzie Award for Worst Picture. The group was signed to Casablanca Records, but when the label went out of business, RCA signed the group in 1981 with plans to rebrand them as a new wave band.
Yes, new wave, very much so, indisputably, seamless pivot, just what everyone wanted from these guys.
Snort:
David Hodo, the "construction worker", recalled in a 2014 interview with PopMatters that the RCA executives were "passing around ideas" for how to re-style the group. One idea was for each member to wear a colorful, monochromatic fringed leather bodysuit, which Hodo deemed "awful". The second look that the label proposed, which the group agreed to, was a "New Romantic look, which was [like] Adam Ant and Spandau Ballet. That was the better of the two choices.”
Also:
In a review for Billboard magazine, the editors praised the album's "mellifluous harmonies" and commended the lead single, "5 O'Clock in the Morning", as "an ethereal piece of work", but criticized the album as "not edifying”.
In retrospective reviews, Stephen Thomas Erlewine of AllMusic gave the album one star out of five and deemed it an "embarrassment that never should have seen the light of day", further opining that the album, despite its age, "lacks kitsch value", but singling out "5 O'Clock in the Morning" as a highlight of the album.
Eh.
Christopher Bickel of Dangerous Minds retrospectively deemed "Food Fight" a "stupefying punk rock masterpiece", comparing its style to Devo and "Weird Al" Yankovic, and opined that, "had the Village People followed Renaissance with an album full of songs in the 'Food Fight' vein, they easily could have been the greatest fake punk band of all time.”
OF ALL TIME.
SO. MUCH. NEW WAVE
Don’t remember this at all:
His first album for Boardwalk also featured the track "She's Got Papers On Me", the lament of a married man wanting his mistress, which was interrupted by his wife, played by Betty Wright, setting out her view of the situation.
If you must:
He had several less successful follow-ups before Boardwalk Records folded in 1983. He then signed with RCA Records, but was dropped by the label after several unsuccessful singles and albums. Renamed simply "Dimples", he continued to record for the Columbia and Life record labels.
Chicks dig it
Don’t think these ads worked, at all.
Annnd I’m agog these guys got signed, let alone promoted.
The most influential band of anyone else on this page. And it’s a great record.
That'll do! See you around. Despite the picture below, we are not revisiting The Sweetheart of the Comics, but we're still in the Comic Sins site. Now it's old DC Heroes. Enjoy!
