Damned busted back. Now that I recall, this happens once a year, usually triggered by shoveling. There should be a law requiring all shovels to emit a sharp electric shock when you pick them up, just to remind you what can happen if you use your back in any part of the snow-removal process. But no one thinks it’ll hurt later. Doesn’t hurt now! That’s all I need to know!

I wonder if I should go work out, but gently. Perhaps some stretching and striding will help. If not, there’s always Aleve. Except I don’t have any. At Sunday football, Hercules the Crazy Uke told me that was the OTC pill to pop, and who am I to disagree with a man who had previously serenaded us with a Ukrainian Christmas Carol?

And did so again into the sunset on the afternoon the Vikes beat the Lions?

LATER Well, that helped. One of the Gym Instructors showed me some exercises for helping the back, the Upward Thrusting Glute-Core Lunge or something. and it felt good. It restored blood to the afflicated area, and while I'm just an old country doctor with no fancy know-how I have come to understand that blood is essential, otherwise things tend to perish and slough off. And apparently I am in the 1% of people my age who can do 50 pushups. I’m sure that’s absolutely scientifically and empirically true and I will hear no argument about it.

I heard from Natalie in London. They had an orientation, and told everyone that if they were robbed, they should not resist. I looked at the dorm on Google Street View and it’s a typical London street for the neighborhood, clean, historic, eminently civilized. Ah to be 22 and in such a place, with spring to come.

She sent pictures of scones with little ramekins of jam and cream cheese and butter, and it looked like the most delicious thing ever fashioned by the hand of man. Don't know if there was clotted cream. That never sounded appetizing. It just sounds old. You got overly elderly cream, it's got clots.

Well, what is that stuff, anyway? Googling . . .okay. Thick cream. Here's something I learned, which makes this whole boring enterprise useful: the word clot is derived from clout, from the Dutch "kluit," meaning "lump, clod." So when someone's chasing clout on social media, they could be begging for lumps. Sounds right.

Obviously not a great deal of importance today, so let's move along and see if we can find something interesting in Mark VII stock footage.








I don’t even remember what the Dragnet ep was about. Okay, thinking . . . ah. Right. Stacy Harris, who was a staple in the radio show, was a money man behind a pill mill. Joe and Bill Gannon spent some time in a small apartment that had been liberally dusted with upper dust and didn’t seem the least bit worried about what they were inhaling. What stuck out was the initial “this is the city” montage.

The camera pulls back . . . Holy crow, what a wound:

What was this massive project?

I believe this was the scouring of Bunker Hill, the dark heart of noir film. There was a time when the filmmakers could depend on Bunker Hill for all the seedy neon sleeze that told you someone was in trouble. It was downmarket in the daytime, though. It had to go.

The urbanists decided that a tunnel would be good:

Let’s see how that turned out.

It used to be like this. I have movie with a scene set at the other ned of the tunnel, according to helpful noir location pages.

Now, I'm somewhat sure:

And down below . . .

All the Dragnet montages are wrong. This was the city.






It’s 1910.

We’re always complaining about the fast pace of modern life. This started a long time ago: behold, the Efficient Minute, the wonders of instantaneous communication.

There is no cause to dawdle! No excuse for not making every second jump with pep!

The jar and jolt will not confound your Howard:

The man who has now taken up Motoring will be recommended to buy a Howard, because he will be more keenly aware of time.

Mr. H was “without doubt one of the most respected names in the history of American horology.” But take care:

Edward Howard retired in 1882, but his company continued to sell watch movements in grades and styles established by Howard until 1903.

E. Howard is NOT the same as Keystone-Howard

In 1902, the Keystone Watch Case Company purchased the rights to the Howard brand-name, and subsequently produced a line of watches labeled ""E. Howard Watch Co., Boston, U.S.A." These watches are commonly called Keystone-Howards.



Hmm. This takes an unusual turn:

Are there any available copies of Nedra, Motor Girl of Mars? There must be. Somewhere.

  I did find an illustration in another ad.

But nothing except more ads for the story. In a way, I'm glad, because someone would reboot the character to conform with modern sensibilities, and she would probably be a badass mechanic war vet who wore short tank tops and didn't take any guff and had 'tude, dude, and also was cynical but privately quite sensitive and deep.

What we take as standard was once an add-on. You'd think these would be absolutely necessary:

In 2009 someone did a reproduction, for $999. Glass extra.

Another of the many brands



The National Motor Vehicle of Indianapolis, Indiana was in operation from 1900 to 1924. Early production concentrated on electric vehicles but during the mid-1900s, switched to gasoline-engined cars, eventually adding a line of models powered by four, six, and twelve-cylinder engines. They merged with the Associated Motor Industries in 1923 but went out of business a year later.



According to the pictures at the link, people are still racing Nationals, over a hundred and ten years later.

I suspect they've swapped out a few parts. I still find that remarkable.

  The ordinary fridge is a CHARNEL HOUSE OF DEATH, says government official.

That would be Harvey Wiley of the FDA. Surprising thing I learned from this ad:

In 1912, Wiley resigned and took over the laboratories of Good Housekeeping Magazine where he established the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval and worked tirelessly on behalf of the consuming public. Harvey Wiley died at his home in Washington in 1930, and was buried in Arlington National Cemetery.

Do they still hand those out? They were a reassurance when I was a kid, somehow. I assumed my mother took that seal into account when weighing purchases.


Those are some clunky boats:

From one of those genealogy sites that seem to number in the thousands, some bio.

FREDERICK PACKARD, late of Brockton, was not only one of the best known men in the line of shoe manufacturing in that city but also one of its most honorable and respected citizens. He ranked among the city’s most successful business men, one whose start in life was obtained by his energy and push, and these traits, combined with excellent business acumen, had long secured for him a position of affluence, and caused the firm of which he had so long been the head to become one of the best known in its line in the country.

You really get a sense of the fellow, don't you.

Outing shirts:

Grim Jasper, isn't he?

A trade name for mercerized cotton. There was a Clarence Whitman who made his riches importing fabric; this sounds as if they made it. Could be the same fellow.

The point is: they wore ties while paddling a canoe.

Now two ways to chip in!

That will do for today. Now we meet one of the lesser-known comic characters of the early 20s, and there's a good reason why. Sometimes it takes a deep dive into the also-rans to realize why Jerry on the Job was actually much, much better than we may have thought.

At least for the art.




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