Late evening, ragged crickets, the last few planes landing low. While I’m not, and have never been, particularly ecstatic about living under an approach path to the airport, I’m inured to it, and it’s almost like the roar of the sea. Except no one holds a shell up to their ear and says “you can hear the Airbus powering in for final approach." At night they are almost mysterious, especially when you consider the large human cargo that will debark and disburse, every one of them an unknowable world unto their own.

Busy day and busy night, so the top here is thin. Morning podcast stand-up routine with Duane at the Afternshow; office to write and write and file, then work out. Deep nap with dense and hectic dreams, the type that make you wake exhausted because your brain has been REMing with such manic frantic action you feel like you’ve been watching a Michael Bay movie on VR goggles. Dinner at relatives to celebrate Uncle Gary’s bounce back from cardiac surgery, then a quarter of pre-season at the Giant Swede’s house with Hercules the Crazy Uke. Everyone in their accustomed place. It’s early, of course, too early to be all in, but you ease into it while the summer is still strong, picking up a rope that will slide from your hands in the cold depths of winter.

And now Friday! Pizza Whiskey Ice Cream, after the Friday work is done. I hate to say it, but it’s the last summer weekend before you feel Time’s Winged Chariot bringing in the shipment of Pumpkin Spice. The last weekend when you don’t think about the school buses showing up again, or the Fair starting, or the first dip in the evening air temp that reminds you the sun has hastened its departure by a significant interval since the glorious blare of late June.

Anyway, good day, and hope yours was equally fine. All simple things, nothing big. But everything had a good little glow.

And now, the weekly dream-journal entry, illustrated by AI, because that's what this week is all about.

I was a member of a moon shot crew. I’m not sure how I got involved, and I had my reservations because of claustrophobia. But I’d made a commitment. One day I was at home and suddenly remembered oh crap, right, I’m going to the moon, is that today? Because I thought the captain of the mission would come by in a car and take me to the space port you know, pick all the astronauts up, like we’re car pooling. Turns out, no, it was Tuesday, and I was relieved because it meant I had a whole weekend.

Later, I can’t recall quite how, I was out with the dog, which was a smaller dog, like a Westie, and the captain offered to take him home, since I had errands to run. I said fine.

Prompt: astronaut takes Westie for a walk

The captain came by later and said, quite casually, that the dog had gotten out of the car, and he’d shot him.

What? Well, he wasn’t going to be able to catch him, so he shot him with his rifle, thinking it would be better than dying of hunger as a lost dog. I was incredulous and heartbroken and he was completely unmoved and rather surprised I was reacting this way. He really thought I was making a big deal about this. I demanded that he take me to the body, which surprised him even more: are you serious? When I made it clear I was quite serious he agreed, and as we left, I thought, I can’t go to the moon with this guy, and I wondered whether I was using this as an excuse not to go to the moon, when the matter was really claustrophobia.

Additional examples of Prompt: astronaut takes Westie for a walk

Sure, Space Dogs need Nilla Wafer goggles.

BTW, in 27 iterations of astronaut takes Westie for a walk, faces were shown in 1/3rd; all BIPOC.

One more for nightmare fuel:

The Firehouse complex, seen from a distance.

Last year we noted the construction of a medium-sized apartment block on a vacant lot, part of the Thrivent project. Two new apartment buildings and a corporate office. It’s a nice tidy addition. The street looks good, especially considering that this was just a car lot:

The metal grates around the building have an M. For Minneapolis?

No. For the name of the project.

A bit twee. There’s one more lot that needs to be filled in, but even then I fear it will lack what the city needs most. Retail. Cafes. Without that the buildings just look like young-professional sleeping bins. If they rent them. All of these projects were predicated on people living downtown to take advantage of all the things, and being close to the office.

The double-tap head shots of 2020 changed that.

Man, some of these guys crumple fast:

Because your nose indicates pugnacious criminality. Solution is here.

This year's old newspaper feature: a social no-no single-panel illustration. Can you figure out what's wrong?

The answer will be provided on Monday. PROMISE. That gives you an entire day to speculate in the comments!

		Now two ways to chip in!

That will do! Thank you for your visits, and I'll see you on Monday.