It's a step in the right direction

I'm writing this on a Wednesday evening. We had our busiest day at work today since last year. We processed over five hundred payrolls--between what I'll call six of us because there are five on my immediate team, plus half of someone else's time, plus a sweet kiddo who comes in a few days a week and gives us a hand. We moved over $30,000,000 (that's MILLION) in payroll funds around.

That, friends, is a whooole lotta greenbacks.

It is also a vast improvement on the numbers--both in terms of numbers of payrolls and dollar amounts--we've been seeing for the last little stretch (and a half). We're starting to see our restaurant clients come back. It's slow, but it's happening. It's nice to see.

It's also, frankly, kind of terrifying.

I know there are people chomping at the bit to get back out into the world and reclaim their freedom to move about as they please. People who want to be on planes, traveling the globe. People who want to go to baseball games. People who want to resume their fine dining experiences. I am not one of those people. (But you likely already knew that.) I was already a hardcore homebody when all this nonsense kicked off, but now I'm burrowed in like a tick. Remember that bit in the Disney version of Peter Pan where the Lost Boys find Indian tracks and dig themselves a foxhole in 1.6 seconds flat? Yeah, like that.

Yes, I have been out more in recent weeks than I have in the last year plus, but only to my dance classes which take place at vastly reduced capacity in studios that are probably cleaner than my house. And yes, it has been a freeing experience. It has also been a calculated risk with known variables. I trust the people who run the dance studios to adhere to their cleaning and disinfecting requirements. I don't lick the ballet barre. I do, however, eat with things like forks, which may or may not have been properly sanitized between uses, and may have been previously used by someone who couldn't give a toss about all the staying at home the rest of us have been doing.

Am I really that likely to catch something from a fork that got a half-assed bath? Probably not. I'm sure I'm more likely to catch something from Karen at the next table who thinks she's invincible and can't catch anything if she's wearing a tinfoil hat because, I don't know, 5G or something? Still, though. Not in a hurry to be dining in. I'm not thrilled about the prospect of dining outside, either, though "reduced risk" blah blah blah...

Look. The safest place is at home. With the door shut. And locked. While I'm hunkered down under the bed.

That might be a slight exaggeration. Maybe. But only because I need every square inch of storage space I can get, and that means that I have skinny Rubbermaid tubs under the bed holding things like wrapping paper.

I'm just not ready for the world to be open again. I probably won't be ready for a very long time. Are there places I'd like to go? Sure. Would I like to get to create my own frozen yogurt travesty again? You bet.

But maybe not yet, yeah?

Weeeelllll........

 So I've got a half-baked thought about something insightful to say using the Orpheus and Eurydice myth as a focal point, but it's been a long week and my brain is mush, so you're getting a pile of giggles instead. Sorry, kids. I'm all out of spoons for the moment. 

 

And many happy returns of the day

I had a birthday this week, so I'm giving myself the week off. Happy birthday, Me.

For your enjoyment, Yzma being grumpy:

"who did you think built the house?"

 Sometimes, you find the words you didn't know you were looking for.

They aren't always your own.

The Thing About Trauma, Brenna Twohy

And a reading by the author. 

 

https://buttonpoetry.com/product/swallowtail/

Oh, lumme...

Y’all already know I have some very niche tastes in media, but I don’t think we’ve covered this one yet—vintage radio shows!

When I lived in England the first time, I discovered the joy of BBC Radio 4 (and thanks to that Radio Garden app, I can get it again now!) In addition to news and drama and audio books and gardening tips and the shipping forecast, there were radio panel shows like I’m Sorry I Haven’t A Clue, Just A Minute, and The News Quiz. All of this was wonderful, and filled up a great deal of my leisure time. By far my favorite thing, though, was the one evening a week when they would dedicate a block of two hours or so to radio programs from the BBC archives. Programs like I’m Sorry, I’ll Read That Again, The Goon Show, Hancock’s Half Hour, and my personal favorite, The Navy Lark.

Recent events in the Suez canal brought back my appreciation of The Navy Lark with a passion. The show centers around a crew of sailors assigned to a frigate, the HMS Troutbridge, when they are at sea, and an island just beyond telescope view of Portsmouth, where the admiralty is, when they’re in port. They are the motliest of crews. The captain is always off fishing somewhere. The chief petty officer is a con man. The lieutenant just wants to exist with as little involvement from the brass as possible, the sub-lieutenant is thick as a plank, and they’re both attempting to woo the WREN on staff. Obviously this leads to hi-jinks galore. In the pilot episode, for example, there is to be an inspection from the unit’s departing commander and the new one coming in, and none of the six Jeeps that are meant to be in the island’s motor pool can be accounted for--at least, not officially. And somehow, everyone has been convinced of the benefits of the bicycle… I won’t ruin it for you, but suffice it to say that the correct number of Jeeps is never achieved. If Troutbridge had been an actual ship in the Royal Navy fleet, it would singlehandedly have cost Her Majesty a healthy chunk of change. Between forgetting to untie themselves from the jetty before sailing, running aground, and barreling bow-first into anything within a radius of 100 nautical miles, it’s a miracle the whole crew isn’t court martialed on the regular. Luckily for them, they always manage to turn their mishaps to their benefit…which is why this series was able to run on the radio for twenty-eight years. Yes, conniving Chief Petty Officer Pertwee, pompous Admiral Povey, bumbling Sub-Lieutenant Phillips, loveable-but-gullible Able Seaman Johnston, saucy WREN Heather, and all the rest of the crew had plenty of adventures in their time.

Some of you may recognize the setup of this program—does McHale’s Navy ring a bell? Well, The Navy Lark did it first.

What does this have to do with that unfortunate blockage in Suez, you ask? Remember the sub-lieutenant I described above as being ‘thick as a plank’? Well, when the crew is at sea, he is the navigator, and his instructions to whichever unfortunate person is steering the ship tend to rely heavily on ‘left hand down a bit’.

I had to make it for my own enjoyment. #SorryNotSorry

I have been looking for a way to listen to The Navy Lark in its entirety for years now. They have done some digitally remastered releases, but in collected volumes of a few assorted episodes each rather than a lovely box-set of the complete show, so I was beginning to give up hope—until last week. I have found a website with a literal treasure trove of old radio programs available to stream.

https://oldradioprograms.us/

All y’all who love a podcast? Try radio. There are hundreds of programs available on this site, including rare gems like old USO shows. History buffs, eat your hearts out! 

Besides, I need someone to get my jokes...