Remember, short-shrift interregnum week.

Fun moment as the familytech support guy: I get a call from my wife in Scottsdale who’s trying to connect to her mother’s wifi. She wants to know if I knew what her mother’s wifi network is.

I like the fact that she thinks I would.

Hmm. Well. I say it’s either Cox, or, it’s the facility’s wifi. What shows up in the list?

First of all, do I get plaudits for knowing my mother-in-law’s internet provider is Cox? I do not. But that’s okay. She finds a wifi name that’s the same as her unit number. Ah: that’s it. But! That’s the one she’s trying to connect to, and the password doesn’t work!

Okay, well, let me consult my keychain. I connect automatically to her wifi when I’m in AZ, so I should have her password stored . . . ah. There it is. I text her the password, and she enters it, and it works. And we’re good!

What I want, of course, is trumpets and rose petals to descend and general huzzahs, but when you’re the Tech Support Guy in the family, it’s just What You Do. Sigh. Then another question: I have to fix her keyboard. Over the phone. They put in new batteries but they don’t work. Well, two possibilities: the batteries are old, or they are in the wrong way.

First: tell me the expiration on the batteries. The what? The expiration, it’s on the side . . . hold on, what brand? Duracell. Okay, it’s here. (Describe the position of the expiration date.) 2026? Good. Now look at the underside of the keyboard where the batteries go, the rounded part. There’s a little picture that shows which direction the batteries should go. See it?

Oh now I do

Okay, follow those instructions with care, and push the button.

It’s green!

You’re good. Anything else?

Not now, we’re leaving for the Mall.

I like feeling useful, so that was good.

Went to work, did some stuff. To my surprise I found another folder of 1948s I’d set aside, and there’s enough for another year. I should live so long.

Well, some day. I don’t know why I have to be the custodian of the newspaper Quasicomic genre, especially since I do such a poor job of basic things like finding out the artist’s names. Anyway, I have some 50s examples set aside as well. This one unnerves, both for the assertion and expression:

Yes, it’s Frantic Fudges. The copy is all beat:

I wasn’t aware of the slang term frantic, except I was. It was used by Stan Lee in his Bullpen Bulletins in Marvel Comics; the fans were called Frantic Ones. Being a “Real Frantic One” was a ranking in the order of Marvel fans. But it sounds as if it might have had an 19th century vogue in England, doesn’t it? The mad lads of London, lolling about in their clubs with a dissolute attitude, sniffing their handkerchiefs and talking about how someone was absolutely frantic.

It’s still 1915, and we’re still looking at the Evening Ledger. This week: the entertainment section.

What’s the fascinating part about this? Right.

The lady detective. If you were asked to describe a 1915 movie cliche, would you have said "lady detectives”?

		And herein lies a tale.
		At leadst he tries!

As the Henry Ford Center put it:

Disgusted by the carnage of World War I, Henry Ford launched a well-meaning but naive effort to end it in December 1915. He chartered the vessel Oscar II to carry a party of citizen-mediators to Europe to negotiate for peace.

It has a whiff of the Ross Perot / Donald Trump appeal. He’s an outsider! He’s not bound by the conventions that brought us to this awful spot.

		Signed, Mr. Ordinary Guy. HEY WAIT A MINUTE.

Carl would be forced out of the company he founded, along with his son, for spending too much on movies that didn’t earn back. Neither worked in the industry again. But what a run.

The studio, of course, is still around. Universal.

As for Ford’s mission:

But the delegates feuded among themselves, press support faded, and Ford himself tired of the bickering. The "Peace Ship" expedition failed.

Also, half the people on the ship got the flu, including Ford. Also, from wikipedia, this note:

The Oscar II set sail from Hoboken, New Jersey, on 4 December 1915, amid an atmosphere that the press later derided as circus-like A crowd of about 15,000 watched the Oscar II depart from the harbor while a band played "I Didn't Raise My Boy to Be a Soldier.”

Just before the ship's departure, a prankster placed a cage containing two squirrels and a sign reading " To the Good Ship Nutty" on the ship's gangplank. When the ship departed, a fully dressed man jumped off the pier and attempted to swim after it. The harbor police rescued the man, who identified himself as Mr. Zero, explaining that he was "swimming to reach public opinion.”

“Mr. Zero” was hyperlinked.

Urbain J. Ledoux (August 13, 1874 – April 8, 1941), later known as "Mr. Zero", preferring his own name not to be prominent, was an American diplomat and activist with a declared interest in the Baháʼí Faith.

Here’s the humor piece the editorial page was defending last week, and now we see why they felt compelled to note that everyone involved was an American.

The author:

Montague Marsden Glass (born July 23, 1877 – February 3, 1934) was a British-American Jewish lawyer and writer of short stories, plays and film scripts. His greatest success came with the creation of his fictional duo Abe Potash and Morris ("Mawrus") Perlmutter, who appeared in three books, a play, and several films.

Well, look who’s illustrating his work:

		I gather that these guys were characters he introduced later, perhaps to get some different aspects and approaches. He was well-regarded by audiences both Jewish and goyim, and didn’t take a lowbrow approach.
		Well, look who’s illustrating his work: Our old friend Briggs.

The comics page is full of stuff I’ve never seen before.

Rather dark, I’d say:

I’m not sure I get this one. Also, the mother calls the baby “it”?

Ah, dang it. DANG. Now I’m going to have to go poking through this newspaper again, a lot, because look who’s shown up, in the very early days of his long career.

Finally:

They got punked.

Jue Quon Tai (December 21, 1898 - September 24, 1991) was a Chinese-American vaudeville performer.

She was born in California on December 21, 1896 or December 21, 1898 and sometimes used the Americanized name Rose Eleanor Jue or Rose Eleanor Jewel.

She worked in vaudeville in Portand, Oregon and at the Orpheum Theatre in San Francisco. She began performing at the Pantages Theatre in April 1915, receiving positive reviews.[7] She attended the Panama–Pacific International Exposition later that year and then went to New York City.

In an interview with the New York Times she said she was born as a princess in Beijing. This appears to have been a publicity stunt. The Social Security Death Index uses December 21, 1901 for her birth and the California Death Index uses December 21, 1905 and lists her birthplace as California.

Something about some type being born every minute seems to apply.

That'll do! Back to the Fifties now, finishing up the smokes with the THINKING MAN'S CIGARETTE.