An exciting social day: sis-in-law is coming over for supper. She’s a good cook. I have to come up with something that doesn’t say “this is the slop I fed to your sister for 35 years,” so she doesn’t say well that helps to explain things. I have some marinated chicken breasts from Lundsnbyerly's, a pasta salad with sun-dried tomatoes and capers, a jumble of roasted potatoes, and a nice Caesar salad. But I’m out of capers, of course; never thought I would have capers around or need them for anything. Just not a caper-heavy guy. Check the Target app to see where they are in the store . . . ahh. ONE LEFT. Well, I can either run over there right now, or order them to be picked up. Might as well get a few other things as well . . . done.

And a message streaks across the ether, lands in the back room of the Edina Target on York, whereupon a fellow in a red vest is commanded to stand, leave the room, and secure the capers. I pushed a button and made him stand and fetch. Will he be fast enough, though? There’s a lag time in caper-quantity reporting, since someone could’ve put them in the cart the moment I made the order, and the system won’t know it until he checks out. He could wander the store for an hour.

The capers will be obtained when I do my afternoon two-hour Birchless trip. He simply has to get used to it.

LATER Capers made the evening. Everyone talked about the capers. Well, no, but I was happy to see them consumed along with the rest of the pasta salad. Successful meal, great talk, no back-channel messaging, then dessert a long walk around the grounds ending at the pool where a couple I know was lounging around - we stopped for palaver, so the general impression, if it is sent back by courier, is not that I am living in a bare box without human contact.

Even better: no nervous shitlits from the dog when I got back, AND, there were nose prints on the windows, which indicates that he didn’t spend the whole time by the door, as he would like me to believe.

Anyway, social engagement + long happy chat with Daughter + column deadline means scantish Bleatage, and that's okay: in this case, it means I have a life, and I'm-a livin' it. He said, regretting the forced colloquialism.

Man from Earth (2007) It was recommended as an interesting and thought-provoking little story, and I imagine if you’re in the right mood it would strike you as something above the usual cheap fare. And it’s that. I mean, you look at all the thumbnails on the streaming sites, and they’re Red for “bad movie set on Mars” and “blue” for “bad movie about an alien invasion.” The premise: an academic guy assembles co-workers from the College to get together for a goodbye party, and tries to break the news that he’s actually immortal, and thus has a long view on hismanity and insights on its history. When I heard that set -up, I thought “that’s familiar; wonder if there’s a nod to the source material.”

Oh yes. I laughed out loud:

Bixby wrote “Requiem for Methuselah,” about an immortal dude living on a distant planet with a hot chick-robot. Apparently this was a script he worked on a long time ago and spent a lot of time trying to get it made, and died knowing it was in production.

The problem with this sort of story, of course, is that the immortal man either knew great historical figures, which is unlikely, or he did - or was one - which is improbable. Yes I knew Van Gogh, and incidentally, I was Jesus.

But are there any Star Trek references? Two.

Explicit . . .

And not so, and coincidental. Dr. Phlox!

There's a sequel, but I'm not interested.

It's 1921.

Absolutely does not leave a ring on your forehead as though you’d been through a treatment that involved leeches and cupping

Smithsonian:

Patrick J. Fitzgerald (ca. 1879-1961) was an Irish immigrant who formed the Fitzgerald Mfg. Co. in 1906, and began making engine gaskets. He also designed the firm’s next important product, the Star Electric Vibrator. This inexpensive ($5) electric-powered hand-held device came on the market in 1919; by 1922, more than a million examples had allegedly been sold.

This one’s over $12. Wonder if he retired early, and satisfied, like his customers.

I suppose they do, but . . .

The address seems a bit scant. Room 114! Fine; which building? The building! The one in DC!

In 1920, Clifford M. Lewis opened the Lewis Hotel Training School. Lewis was familiar with the hotel industry, as his father managed hotels around the country, and young Lewis followed in his father’s footsteps.

An article on a website that's now some strange Turkish gambling site feels compelled to note this:

For a period, Lewis was regularly featured in Washington newspapers either invia advertisements for his hotels or because of his various court cases. The Washington Times reported on April 12, 1902, that his dog had attacked a man riding a bike on his way home. The victim filed suit and Lewis was “given the opportunity to secure witnesses to show the peaceful and law-abiding character of his dog.” Interestingly, in 1914, Lewis was driving his car and hit Harry Taliafero knocking him to the ground. Taliafero sued for damages.

It wasn’t fly-by-night - they had a graduation ceremony and dinner and everything!

Whatever the hell they play like, anyway. Carelessly tossed lei not included. Hell of a hairstyle, Mac.

Learn the fascinating slurs!

Millions or billions? Which is it?

I wonder if they got a cease-and-desist copyright charge from Kodak, or whether Kodak appreciated having their name synonymous with cameras.

Better view of the packaging, here.

These things persisted forever; they were around when I was a kid. Eventually the adhesive would lose its purchase, though. After, like, 40 years.

Do you now:

Their office:

More of this poisonous caustic salve:

Maybe it worked. Delatone is actually the name of the compound - some barium sulfide (declared a poison in the UK), some starch. “The ingredients of a dollar package are worth about one cent,” says this hair-removal history page.

To tell you the truth, Thirsty Fiber looks damned itchy.

It is, of course, paper. I can’t find any copies of Thirsty Fibre, His Biography on the internet. Surely it’ll turn up some day.

“Burns a nice clean flame from gasoline”

Also leaks and explodes and makes your clothes stick to your skin when you’re miles from anywhere; burns down forests as well, send for details

It was a popular item. The company was eventually absorbed, the product line changed, and the successor company ended up making the opposite of a camp stove: ice cube makers.