Even farther

It is rather big news―if news it be―that Gary Larson might be bringing back his baby, The Far Side, in some form or other. It's an influential comic, and a timeless one, but up until now it was buried in the semi-recent past. Larson had fulfilled his promise by the time he hung up his hat in 1995, but I'm curious to see if he's done any brainstorming since then. Or piled up massive gambling debts.

The sound of...

I remember in a place I used to live the walls (+ ceilings and floors) were pretty thin. One neighbor chewed me out for my clock radio playing in the morning, which she really shouldn't have been able to hear. Also once I sneezed late at night and someone angrily thumped on my ceiling/their floor.

It's different here. Which is good, because allergy season is back.

I'm the wind, baby

The Carileon, by Sebastien Leon // Performed by Loup Barrow and the wind from Studio Sebastien Leon on Vimeo.

A percussionist is rather spoiled for choice in terms of things to strike. Nice problem to have. In addition there are sounds being made by the wind. It's kind of soothing.

Thunderdome

One weird adjustment that you have to make this time of year is the change in what it's like to take the bus. During the summer you get used to buses running somewhat close to the schedule, at least for most of the day. Certain peak-hour runs are later than others, of course. And you get used to having a reasonable amount of space, too. Then when kids go back to school you get routes that are so jammed up two buses that are supposed to be twenty minutes apart show up at the same time. There's also more of a sardine can effect a lot of the time. This happens every year but I always sort of forget.

They've commissioned new buses this year, though. Blue upholstery. At this point they still have the new car smell.

States of matter

Today I saw a smoothie being made out of spears of pineapple and fresh raspberries, blended together with orange juice. And, not to yuck anyone's yum, it's a subjective preferences, but given my druthers, I'd just eat the pineapple and berries and wash them down with OJ. And it should be just as healthy, since it's all the same stuff. Like I don't think any health benefits accrue specifically to not chewing.

An air

I've heard―and I know you've heard―about how "Ring Around the Rosie" was about the Black Plague. Given that, whatever "fair" Johnny went off to was probably an unimaginable human abattoir. Pretty song though, and nice performance.

Bring your appetite

Reading nonfiction, I don't generally have an agenda in the ideological sense. I just wander to what interests me. And sometimes I take an interest in the mundane things of this world and how they work. Recently that's led me to Fast Food: Roadside Restaurants in the Automobile Age by John A. Jakle and Keith A Sculle. There's some good stuff about the trial and error, the unexpected successes and educational failures of the fast food industry.

There is, as you might expect, a whole chapter on Ray Kroc and his wildly successful franchising of McDonald's. But it's not victories all the way through for him. Biographical notes on Kroc have to deal with the Hula Burger. The Hula Burger was...well, you can see it.

The thing is, I know people who are violently against pineapple on pizza. It's not something I'd get every time, but it's in the open air. That seems to work a little better for it than being squeezed between two halves of a hamburger bun, slathered in American cheese.

I'd guess it only lasted as long as it did because marijuana was coming into wider use.