Richard Ranger, New Edition

You might recall the title of the book as something different. Modestly different. The original was borrowed from the surreal old comedy troupe “The Firesign Theater” in their signature album. That was (33RPM “Long Play”) Nick Danger from the late 1960s. The book we are talking about wasn’t about the Firesign version, or not exactly, but definitely shared an homage to the works of old-time hard-boiled detective fiction writers like Dashiell Hammett. From the generation before, you know?

There was no intention for the stories done for the USS Midway’s daily newspaper to become a book. They were intended only to provide a minor distraction from the gray steel and endless blue water interspersed with the roar of jets. There was no satellite communications in those days, so there was only short-wave radio for news. We had to create amusement where we were and how we could.

That was 45 years ago.

Anyway, there have been a couple things that have happened since then and it seemed, with Iran on the brink of having operational atomic weapons, we thought it might be time to catch up a little.

The original topic at the Wednesday Production Meeting was going to be about how we are going to pay for all the joy one of that candidates has promised to deliver, which includes new taxes on things that have not yet actually been sold to incur a profit. Like your house. So, we took a poll. Talk about stuff we actually understand, or marvel a bit at how the system now operates in a manner certain to eventually cause an abrupt major change?

Simple answer. So, consequently, we are preparing a second edition of the book that started our involvement in how we got to where we are. A copy of the actual book was in the Chairman’s library. A bit bedraggled, but still serviceable although not digital. You can see the problem. Conversion meant actual work, which we try to avoid. The physical copy was purloined and mailed to a likely collaborator in San Diego, who took time to shred the binding and pound the characters into a keyboard at modest cost, all done both remote and digitally to avoid disruption in the office.

That got us going this morning since there are 62 days to worry about the Fate of the West or whatever the messaging wants us to be concerned about. We were worried a while back, it appears, so we are sort of used to the feeling. More on that issue as we stumble through whatever is going to happen next.

The news from the other war in Ukraine has an edge of desperation in the accounts of the latest Russian ballistic missile strike. There were 50 KIA and hundreds wounded, the largest recent reported number of casualties. Messaging accused it of being a strike on a hospital, though such no-strike targets have now been adopted as a means of protecting military nodes by deception. A military academy was also hit.

Tools of old trades. We preferred the books. Less trouble.

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Vic Socotra | Purveyor of glib words to the world