Like ghosts appear in cigarette smoke

After careful perusal of box-office figures for 1981, we have determined that my answer to that data-scraping meme in which the main character of the number-one film of the year in which you were born is now starring in the first movie you ever saw is Indiana Jones and the Dancing Cavalier. Since spatch informs me that Indy was canonically born in 1899, he would be in his late twenties for the events of Singin' in the Rain (1952) and since I find it funnier to interpret this meme as a crossover rather than a substitution, I am now trying to figure out what archaeological mishegos he could be perpetrating in Hollywood that would bring him into contact with Cosmo, Kathy, and Don—and whether, depending on the nature of the mishegos and the timeline of his tenure at Marshall College, he could have Marcus with him. Inevitably, some producer is going to offer him a contract to star in an adventure serial.

The Sun was Lord of the Marigold

In celebration of my country's independence from the British Empire, I played badminton and got stung by a nettle. My patriotism may need some work.

( Almost singing themselves they run. )

The strawberry ice cream was more like strawberry milkshake this year because the churn actually broke, causing everyone to rail against modern technology because it was just five years ago that we replaced the hand-cranked churn of my childhood which might actually have been older than me when it went to its rust, but we poured the stuff into cones and ate the cones afterward and the terms of the ritual were satisfied. It did not rain. Children screamed ultrasonically at one another. (Formally; it was a competition. They were sitting on my brother's truck at the time.) I blew the conch. We have determined it is the first social occasion my family has hosted since the late winter of last year and it was outside. It is strange, but good, to see people.