It was, what, 57 below? Maybe 56. There are two warm zones in the house, rooms where the heat works best, and one of them is my studio, so that’s good. But then I leave for a cup of coffee and the temp drops 20 degrees. Maybe I should move the coffee maker to my studio! Maybe I should move the air frier here too! I need not suffer.
I’m watching a crime doc that features the main characters walking around the downtown looking grim, in slow motion. I just noticed that they blurred out the logo for the local Moose lodge. Good thing, because otherwise I would suspect that the murder had been, at least, planned at the Moose lodge. At most, the victim was done in ritualistically by men in elaborate horns holding candles at midnight.
Should be easy to find . . . ah.
Nice sturdy commercial building. But that’s an old image, 2012. What’s the current view . . .
OMG the townspeople razed it to the ground in a horrible night of violence, seeking justice and revenge for the secret society’s reign of terror!
Hold on, the guy was murdered by a friend who wanted his car. No Moose involved at all. That’s a relief. I wonder if there were any famous murderers who belonged to the IOOF, just so someone could be asked after his arrest “well he always seemed a little odd.”
Two more cars tested. I completely understand now why people choose a brand and stat with it. It’s like looking around for a new religion. Well, this one looks shiny and interesting with a oval take on life and the world, but it requires you to wear a silver horn sticking out of your forehead. I tried a Mazda, which seems like a safe and solid rand, and the car was . . . nice. It felt solid and well-appointed. But the screen was sticking up like the Etch-a-Sketch on a stand, and it was small. It also lacked punch, and was actually less enthusiastic than the KIA I tried.
Also, I didn’t hit it off with the salesman. I swear the new generation is just lacking something I would think is essential to the craft, and that’s SALESMANSHIP. No one particularly wants to get me into this car. I understand the soft approach, letting me get myself to where I already want to be. Don’t alienate the customer with the hard sell. But at this point I want to be glad-handed and back-slapped. I want to be their new best friend.
If the customer notes that the pickup is underwhelming, the salesman should tell me one of two things: there’s a better model that really has some punch, or they also sell a different better hotter faster neater car and I’m just the kind of guy who’d appreciate it.
Another thing I’ve learned: every car has a passionate online community of people united in hating it. You have to sift through this to find interesting details like “just about everyone who owned a 2024 was blinded when the transmission exploded in a shower of red-hot shards after 20K miles,” which tends to dampen your enthusiasm.
One vehicle was a grand more than the base model, and when I asked what it had, the salesman said it had a larger dashboard screen. About six inches. I said a grand would buy you a top-quality 52” 4K TV, and you’re charging a that much for six inches more of screen?
"Well, there’s also the heated steering wheel."
I am hesitant to say what I’m looking at, because everyone shows up and waves me off.
I like this one. Despite the headlights. Or maybe not despite them.
And to my surprise I like this one, which is like a steriodal MiniCooper.
The problem is that the company is in the news for facing bankruptcy, and that does put a crimp in one’s confidence in the future.
Every day I swear I see a TV ad for a car company I forgot to check, and it's the same. Call up the website. Okay, that one's in the price range. Go to the dealership. Everything is $4K more. Oh, you want it with wheels and seats? That's the sport package.
It’s 1914.
A few stories about bad meat. The Pure Food Act had been around for a while, but there were still dodgy packers. Which sounds like a good mild British insult.
He’s never been a doughface, and he won’t eat anything provided by a pie hunter. Capisce?
I suspect this was a veiled swipe at another newspaper editor. CANDO was named, you might think, for a can-do spirit? You would be correct.
Well we’d better get up a posse and go after ‘em
(This was my line in the 7th grade play when the matter of rustlers was broached to the townsfolk.)
he second page is mostly editorials about how the weather is nice, and it’s hard on merchants who want to sell winter coats, and lots of jokes. So let’s move along to the third page . . .
Jokes.
The sides, they ache.
You wonder how they might have received the humor from, say, the 1980s, or what we regard as actual funny stuff. Would have melted their faces.
Either the description of this theatre at the top is not completely accurate, or there were two Mascot theatres. There was a Mascot Theatre in the 200 block (one block south of the Mac Theatre), same side of the street. It was on the corner, next to the current Western Rancher boot store. I have posted a 1920s postcard view which proves this. Both the Western Rancher and old Mascot Theatre buildings are identifiable in the postcard, and both buildings still exist, or at least are in the Google street view. Perhaps at some point the Mascot Theatre moved to where the Mac Theatre currently sits, and was then remodeled into the Mac Theatre?
There are people who care about these things, and God bless them.
Education notes:
Mental, artistic, and literary uplift on the prairies.
Veiller used his experience as a crime reporter to develop the play, but he was initially unable to find a producer for it. He finally settled on selling the rights to the play, along with two others he had written, for a fixed fee. After an unsuccessful run in Chicago, it became a huge hit on Broadway in 1912–1913, running for 541 performances. It was subsequently performed by multiple road companies and adapted as a movie five times.
Although it was one of the biggest hits of its era, Veiller got relatively little income from it due to his decision to sell it for a lump sum.
His son was a movie writer as well, for 30 years; last two films were The List of Adrian Messenger (1963) and The Night of the Iguana (1964). One hopes he learned negotiating tips from his father.
That will do for today. Except, of course, for the Decades Project update, and the Miscellany and Outtakes at the Substack. Thank you for your patronage, and I'll see you tomorrow.
