Ugh. I noted yesterday that I seemed to be having a reaction to the jabs, and sure enough, I woke at 6 in a state of unease. Everything was askew. Dreams had that lurid and horribly intense conviction of a fever dream, even though I didn’t have a fever. Interesting reverie, though: I had been appointed as the next Jesus, and was sent to a cave. I was supposed to enter it and come out and everyone would be happy, because New Jesus. But they were all disappointed whenI emerged looking exactly as I had before. Everyone was expecting Doorknocking Jesus. To be honest I’d expected some sort of transformation as well, if only sartorial, but I still was wearing jeans and a T-shirt.
I also had a rapid heartbeat, but that could be from waking suddenly from a jolt. I calmed myself down by building Planet Coaster things in my mind, a little relaxation trick I use to usher in the naps.
Eventually I fell back asleep, with periodic reawakening, and finally dragged myself out of bed, aching. Hey, what if I actually have COVID? MY throat is scratchy and my nose a bit congested. That would be amusing: I manifest the symptoms the very day I get boosted. Well, let's check the taste-and-smell equipment. I made eggs and sausage and threw on some good spices and some hot sauce, and it was a taste delight. Then I found the cure for whatever was ailing me: coffee and aspirin. Three hours later, right as rain, bounding along on a two-mile downtown walk.
Now, hours later, all is fine. Filed a column, did the walk, stopped off at Napoleon's to pick up some shoes, went home to set up the spinkler system for the lawn guy, so he can plant flags by the sprinkler heads. Turned on all the valves inside the house, went back up and around . . . oh GAH
Water gushing outside. Two cracks in the pipes. Hmm. Well. The guys who did the fall blowout were the last ones to touch anything connected to the system, so they might be responsible. Phone calls. Plumber calls.
It's always something.
Okay, anything in the detritus folder? Ah:
A Russian poster for the glory of the upcoming May 9 celebration, commemorating the victory of WW2. Some people might be so rude as to suspect that the allies had something to do with that, but that's just our decadent, seething resentment of their superior civilization.
What's interesting is that someone was curious enough to look for source material.
We were in Ennis, Texas yesterday. I should've included this. It's remarkable.
Count the screens.
You're thinking: the last hold-out, a dying breed, a remnant of Elvis times.
It opened in 2004, and has been expanding ever since!
There's hope! Where there's Texas, there's hope!
How long does this take to go down?
They're finally filling in the last plot by the stadium. This one has been in the works for a long time. The original proposal was smaller. This looks more "residential," because it has those brick portions. I am not a big fan of the brick hue here.
Then there's this monster, going up by Target Field.
What you see in the background is what they'll be building on this site.
The Weekly Sweep:
Ah, but what of the OLD? This was hoovered off Reddit, where a user named LASOCS prowls through the MHS collection and finds all sorts of interesting things.
The Loeb Arcade, which you can visit here. The terra cotta is beaten and stained, so it's the last days.
Let's look at that lunchette. Mmmm, Heat Canes:
Oh for the days when downtown had dozens of these. Of course, we have the skyway restaurants now, or did before the pandemic, and they served a wider variety of food. But some days you just want a lunchette burger.
So: what's this?
There are several on the facade. Ports for flagpoles?
He's taking a flier here, a wild stab, but hey: sometimes it pays off.,
Solution is here.
A charming PSA for NBC. I gave it the file name 48NBC.mp3. I was wrong.
The Amazing Mr. Malone ran on NBC in 1951. Wikipedia:
Socialite John Joseph Malone is a tough Chicago criminal lawyer who takes on a new case in each episode. Malone never gives up until justice is done.
Never heard of it. I've found a few eps. That'll be next week.
You can tell it's the Twenties. Everything about this is so Twenties. It almost sounds like they're using a Theramin, too.
This one came out in 1921 and was still selling in '22. Sheik: byword for a great lover. A man of intense magnetic power! Get that, and you get the jokes in Harold Teen.
Of course, you have to have a lot of time on your hands to work to decode the jokes in Harold Teen, but it makes the past more approachable. I've always wanted to visit the 20s. I think it would be a state of constant delight until it really, really, suddenly wasn't.
Willard is hip with it, and so is Dad! Thank you, Mormons.
See you on Monday when we start it up again.