Pendleton Roundup 1925 by Frederic Allen Williams
Hey, did you know about the New York Public Library Digital Gallery? It’s amazing. I looked at the pictures of Indians first, but there is tons of other stuff.
NYPL Digital Gallery provides access to over 480,000 images digitized from primary sources and printed rarities in the collections of The New York Public Library, including illuminated manuscripts, historical maps, vintage posters, rare prints and photographs, illustrated books, printed ephemera, and more.
This is the kind of stuff that makes the Internet good.
Plogic At Its Finest
Several weeks ago I constructed a primo Target list. I compiled from other lists. I cross-checked with my to-do list so that I could grab items for various projects, gift giving and domestic tranquility needs.
It was a beautiful list and I had it in my hands when I got in the car to go to the store. When I arrived at the store it was gone.
I looked in my purse. I looked in my bag in the trunk. I took every single thing out of my purse. I took every single thing out of my bag in the trunk.
Yes, I was frustrated because I couldn’t find my list but it wasn’t the end of the world. I was more aggravated because how could that even be possible that a list can disappear like that?
I looked in the ashtray and took everything out of the glove compartment. I looked in the cracks in the seats. I looked under the seats, in the backseat and in the little pockets in the door. I could not find that list.
I repeated all the above steps several times just because I knew with 100% certainty that I’d had the list in the car. There was no way the list could have vanished.
At last, I gave up and developed a weak theory that it had blown out the window. It had been open at one point. I was probably so absorbed in driving/climate control/music selection that I didn’t notice my beautiful list, flying into the wind.
I bet you know where this story is going. Earlier in the week I saw some scrap paper back behind the passenger seat and last night I picked it up and set it on the front dash so I could put in recycling. When I finally turned it over on my way into the house I saw that: IT WAS MY LIST.
My beautiful list, sitting there mocking me right to my face. How is this even possible that you can tear your car apart looking for a list that isn’t there and then it appears?
The only explanation: time travel.