Sargent Pepper's lonley heart band.

With all this talk of "It was twenty years ago.." or "Thirty years ago today," There has been no mention about the fact that in 19 days it will be Thirty five years ago the world was introduced to "Wild Planet"


1980https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xGdkDuL_fgU

In this vid, there must be a few thousand people rocking out. 


As Jimmy Stewart said in “It’s a Wonderful Life,” well what do you know about that.






The idea of trading fish and candy for a boyfriend, well...

Who would have thunk, I saw them at Ashlee's in Baldwin Place, on Rt 6 near Shrub Oak. Perhaps 200 people.


But that was a long time ago.

In a galaxy far, far...

Oh, you know the rest.

Taken in again.

So.
So today we went to Eckley Miner's village. It is a coal patch town founded in 1854. The owners needed coal hauled out of the ground, so across the northeast, towns like this sprang up like weeds. The Owners built the houses, and the miners had to rent from them. They also had to buy coal for heat and cooking they just hauled out.

They looked like this:

That's where the miners lived, here is where the task-master lived:

Note the slight differences in the architectural styles.

Then there is this, behind the workers homes.

 That's the breaker. Those white spots are not dust on my camera, it is snowing.

The coal would be hauled up that ramp on the left, and dumped into the breaker, and gravety would pull the coal along chutes to the bottom where it would be loaded, by size into coal cars and sold.

You may recall the photo I posted, from January 1911. Breaker boys in #9 Breaker, Pennsylvania Coal Company mine at Hughestown Borough near Pittston.

They are called breaker boys because they have to sort the coal, by hand and remove bits of rock and stuff as the coal goes along the chutes beneath them. Any lumps of coal too large has to be broken into smaller bits. As well as fingers, wrists and arms.
If your child was too young to work, the company was happy to provide forged  documents.


So after looking around for a while, I find out that the breaker is a 1/3 scale model of a real breaker, built as a prop by Paramount for the 1970 film "The Molly Maguires".

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0_XZzA1-24k

THEN I find out the whole town was abandoned in 1950 when the mine shut down!

The whole place was bought in 1968 by Paramount and rebuilt for a movie set!
What a gyp!

But, The PA Historical and Museum Commission took notice of what Paramount was up to, and basically said "Thanks Paramount, we'll take it from here, this is now a State Historical site".

Go Figure.



Oh, and the Molly Maguires? They were Irish who where not happy with the working conditions, the wages and being a slave to the man, so they started to stir the pot, as it were. The company then hired a private detective agency. A private police force arrested them, and private attorneys for the coal companies prosecuted them. The state of PA provided only the courtroom and the gallows.

On 21 June 1877, six of them were hanged in the prison at Pottsville, and four at Mauch Chunk.

In 1953 Mauch Chunk was renamed Jim Thorpe after the athlete.

 I guess they liked "Welcome to Jim Thorpe" better than "Welcome to Mauch Chunk, step out of line, and we will hang you too".




 

Brains Beaten Out Edition!

Here’s another vintage newspaper article. The last sentence of this one sums up why I love old newspapers so much. Can you imagine a boring modern news source like USA Today using a term like “beat his brains out”?

I think not.

December, 1887

Dead in a Car of Wheat.

PERRY, Iowa., Dec. 13.—At Aspinwall, seventy-five miles west of here, a man was found dead in a car of wheat yesterday. The body was still warm. Later in the day a young man named Ted Stevens was arrested at this place. When taken to Aspinwall he confessed to killing the man with a car pin, and that he relieved the man of $69. The murdered man’s name is Carson, and he is supposed to have friends near Tama City. Stevens is about eighteen years of age. His father lives east of this city and is a highly respected man. Young Stevens ran away from home about a year ago, and was beating his way from the west when he fell in company with his victim, whom he finally murdered by beating his brains out.

 Several times today I heard the name Carson on the internet. And brains coming out.

First time it was the news above, then used in an episode of “Hopalong Cassidy” I heard on the internet, the story led Hoppy to the place where Pecos Pete had taken two people to kill them so he could have their share of the Mine. 

It’s always a mine in the Old West. 

Always the mine.

Hoppy dropped Pete from a distance with a high-powered rifle, and the hostages were relieved, as you might expect. 

None the worse for wear, even though they’d just seen a guy’s head explode.  Again with the brains everywhere.

Hoppy’s sidekick, by the way, was named “California,” and I’ll bet it had to do with being from California. His full name was California Carson, but naturally people went with the longer, vague name.  

Then there is this:

During the American Civil War, three men set off to find $200,000 in buried gold coins. Tuco and Blondie have known each other for some time now having used the reward on Tuco's head as a way of earning money. They come across a dying man, Bill Carson, who tells them of a treasure in gold coins. By chance, he tells Tuco the name of the cemetery and tells Blondie the name of the grave where the gold is buried. Now rivals, the two men have good reason to keep each other alive. The third man, Angel Eyes, hears of the gold stash from someone he's been hired to kill. All he knows is to look for for someone named Bill Carson. The three ultimately meet in a showdown that takes place amid a major battle between Confederate and Union forces.

Tuco bennidicto Juan Maria Pacifico Remarez, Known as the Rat
(Now you have to think in your mind, "Tooie tooie tooo Waaaa waaa wa")

Well, adjusted for inflation, that $200,000 in gold would be worth today about one million  five hundred thousand and change.  Give or take a few hundred thousand dollars.




So that is three Carsons in one day.


Go figure.

October 15. 1860.

On a cold, foggy evening, October 15. 1860 Sir Frederick Treves, a surgeon at the Mile End Infirmary in east London, was walking home along the Whitechapel Road. Hansom cabs clattered by on the wet cobble stones, and Sir Frederick had to walk cautiously to avoid cracks in the pavement (Don't break your mother's back). Perhaps this was why he noticed a strip of canvas flapping in the cold wind. By the dim gaslight he could just make out the words: “ admission twopence.”

He pushed aside a greasy canvas flap and found himself looking at a huddled figure, covered in tarpaulin, and sitting on a packing case. The surgeon gently pulled back the tarpaulin, and the man looked up at him. What Sir Frederick saw made him gasp. The man’s face was hardly human; the nose was a swollen, trunk-like mass of flesh, and everything else about him was distorted.

The surgeon drew up another packing case, and sat talking to this human creature who looked like a beast from a fairy tale. He proved to be a man of mystery. His body was as distorted as his face, so it was not even clear to which sex “he” belonged. He knew that his name was John Merrick and that he was about 20. But he could only speak in an incomprehensible mumble, and could apparently remember nothing of his origins, or where he had grown up. When his “keepers” came back from the pub, where they had been drinking to keep out the cold, they told Treves that they had simply found the man wandering in the street, and had decided that he might bring them in a few pence as a freak show. But he was so horrible that women fainted at the sight of him and children had fits.

When the surgeon offered them five pounds for the monster, they could scarcely believe their luck. The next day Treves took the man to the hospital, and gave him a private suite of rooms, cut off from the rest of the building. Few nurses could bear to see him, and before a nurse was asked to bring him food or help him to dress she was given a preliminary look at him to see if she could bear it without fainting.

Yet the man proved to be gentle and charming. His gratitude touched everybody. Obviously, his life had been hard and miserable; no one had ever been kind to him. Now, at last, he had warmth and comfort, and he found it almost impossible to believe that fate had finally relented towards him.

One of his favorite occupations was cutting pictures out of illustrated magazines. One of these – his most treasured – was of Princess Alexandra, who would be Queen of England when her husband, later Edward VII, came to the throne. The princess was the patroness of the hospital, and she was deeply interested in the man.  One day she told Treves that she wanted to see him. Treves tried hard to dissuade her, but she was determined. She was shown into the man’s presence. She did not flinch as the twisted, monstrous creature dragged himself towards her, or as he took her hand in his own distorted claw and bent over to kiss it. Then she was shown out. As the door closed behind her, she fainted.

She fainted at the sight of John Merrick, Known as


the The Elephant man.

Q.E.D.

 quod erat demonstrandum

which is a translation into Latin from the Greek ὅπερ ἔδει δεῖξαιis

meaning "which is what had to be proven".

  thus signals the completion of the proof.

Three Skeleton Key

"Three Skeleton Key" is a short story by the French author George G. Toudouze.
George G. Toudouze (1877-1972) was born in Paris, France. Today he is remembered for a single work: "Three Skeleton Key".


The plot involves three men tending a lighthouse on an island off the coast of French Guiana. An abandoned ship, overrun by thousands of ferocious rats, makes landfall. A life-and-death struggle ensues as the men seek to save themselves from the hungry horde.

Vincent Price is the actor most associated with the play, performing it in 1950 for the radio show, Escape and in 1958 for the show, Suspense.
You can listen to the 1950 radio show by clicking on the link above.



 

But now, in real life, the Russian cruse ship, Lyubov Orlova, named after a somewhat psychotic looking Russian actress,

 has been missing in the North Atlantic since last January. 

The cruse ship was abandoned in Newfoundland in 2010 when the owners went bankrupt, and failed to pay the crew. So they docked the ship and left for parts unknown.


The Canadian government decided, last year to tow the ship to the Dominican Republic to be scrapped
 
Two problems.

1) the ship is infested with thousands of rats. The rats ate anything eatable some time ago, so now they are cannibalistic rats. The larger ones eating the small and weak.

2) The tow line snapped during a storm and the tug lost sight of the ship in the storm.

So.
So, now the ship is drifting towards England/Ireland with thousands of giant, cannibalistic rats as crew and complement. If it makes landfall the rats will disembark, looking for a meal.

 Belgian-based searcher Pim de Rhoodes said: 'She is floating around there somewhere. There will be a lot of rats and they eat each other.'

Irish coastguard Chris Reynolds said: 'We must stay vigilant.
'We don’t want rats from foreign ships coming onto Irish soil. If it came and broke up on shore, I’m sure local people wouldn’t be very happy about it.’

When asked what can be done, Pim de Rhoodes said: Try tucking your pant legs into your socks, for starters, boys.

Good call, guys. Let's see, locals not happy, pants in socks, hungry rats. what could go wrong?

 

 

My Brother

My brother made this staff for me last year, when I got out of the hospital, and was a bit wobbly on my legs.  I carried it every time I left the house for months and months.

 I still carry it from time to time. And when people ask, "why do you carry that staff?"

My answer is

"Have you seen any goblins in Freeland in the last year? No? You're welcome."

Thinking about driving again.

Oliver Cromwell Ogilvie: I dunno about this, That goon has a gun!
Mark Stiggs: It's OK! He's crazy!

Mark Stiggs: Number 1, we want zero miles to the gallon.
Oliver Cromwell Ogilvie: Right. No MPGs. It has to be a vulgarlay inefficient mode of trasnportation.
Mark Stiggs: Loud, real loud. It has to generate a terrifyingly seismic field of noise. If we could combine really loud noise with the ugliness of poverty, we'd have the ideal car.
Mark Stiggs: ...making people think that you're poor, so they know you've got nothing to loose if they crash into your car....
Mark Stiggs: Here's a list of places I want this car to be totally unwelcome. Number one: funerals. Number two: affairs of state, you know, real formal ones...ones with...chamber music. Number three: wet golf greens. Number four: the acropolis.
Oliver Cromwell Ogilvie: Ah, yes. Driving this car right in the acropolis should be completely horrifying to every civilized guy on earth.


So, here it is, my (hopefully) next car, the 1987 Yugo:

I am going to guess, if something broke, or fell off, I could 3-D print a replacement part.