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Don't get me wrong, I love disasters
Happy ninety-fifth anniversary, Boston Molasses Flood. You remain one of the weirdest disasters I know to have overtaken a city and in combination with the London Beer Flood would have been one of the worst milkshake ideas I've ever heard. I hope for some equally weird commemoration in five years.
In the meantime—
The glaciers of northern Italy give back their dead of World War I.
The Porpentine Players get a shout-out from DigBoston. (That's![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
derspatchel with the crutches. He doesn't look bad in a watch cap. The flat cap is snazzier.)
Oh, whatever. This song is hilarious.
I have a doctor's appointment for my back tomorrow.
In the meantime—
The glaciers of northern Italy give back their dead of World War I.
The Porpentine Players get a shout-out from DigBoston. (That's
derspatchel with the crutches. He doesn't look bad in a watch cap. The flat cap is snazzier.)Oh, whatever. This song is hilarious.
I have a doctor's appointment for my back tomorrow.
no subject
I was struck by "Many of their relations had fought on the Hapsburg side, and when the soldiers started melting out of the ice, they looked on them as their grand-fathers or great-grandfathers." Even nameless, even mysterious. Someone feels like family toward them. That feels valuable, somehow.
Can't wait to see the Common Man.
You'll like him. He's very fine.