Okay, here’s something a little different.

For a few months now, I’ve been working on a book, “That October,” a crime novel set in October 1984. In the story, a group of high school-age friends take action when a friend is murdered, another friend is missing and the adults … don’t seem to care.

Here’s the first chapter.

Saturday October 6 1984

Jackie Rivers knew she was in trouble. Bill Terry had both her wrists in one of his big hands and was pulling her away from the partiers in the living room and toward a dark hallway.

The music – Jackie recognized that “Round and Round” song by Ratt – was pounding and disorienting enough. But Jackie’s brain was foggy and her vision was blurry. At first she thought she couldn’t see very well because the house was dark and the dark was cut only by colored lights and strobes. But she thought it was more than that.

I shouldn’t have drunk that drink, she thought.

Sammi and Toni and I should never have come to the party, she thought.

As Bill Terry pulled her along behind, Jackie looked to the right and could see Sammi Bradford and Toni Carter, her best friends, through the wall of windows. They were outside by the bonfire and Jackie could tell they were looking for her: Toni’s hands were out in front of her as she talked to a boy and she seemed to be making big gestures, which was how Toni talked when she was upset.

I should have never drunk some of that purple punch, Jackie thought again. It had Everclear in it and that is almost pure alcohol.

Whose house was this, even? Jackie thought. Why did we even come to this stupid party?

Just before Bill Terry pulled her into the hallway, she thought she saw Sammi, looking through the windows, spot her. Sammi’s eyes lit up and Jackie saw her mouth open to say something to Toni before Jackie was pulled into the dark hallway.

Oh my god, Sammi, I hope you saw me.

Outside one of the doors in the hallway, Bill Terry tried to kiss her and Jackie turned her head so his stupid sloppy open mouth landed on her ear.

Bill tightened his grip on her wrists and yanked downward and Jackie cried out in pain. With his other hand, he turned the doorknob and stepped into the dark bedroom, pulling her after him. He pushed her toward the bed in the room and closed and locked the door behind him.

I did a stupid thing by drinking that purple punch, but this is not my fault, Jackie thought. This is Bill Terry’s fault.

Bill moved toward her when she heard, even over the blasting volume of the music, fists drumming on the door. Out in the hallway, Sammi and Toni were hollering, although Jackie couldn’t make out what they were saying.

Bill Terry made a face then stepped close to where Jackie sat on the edge of the bed.

Jackie shook her head to clear it and made fists of her hands where they lay on the bed.

Bill saw the gesture and laughed, which sent a spike of anger through Jackie’s head. The fog cleared for a moment.

Jackie raised her left first toward Bill’s chest and he knocked it away, almost casually.

Then Jackie hit him hard, square in the crotch, with her right fist.

Bill Terry doubled over and staggered back, a look of fury quickly blossoming on his face.

Then the bedroom door blew open, the doorframe splintering, and Michael was there.

Michael, her stepbrother of the last nine months.

Michael, the big white kid with wavy blond hair, who usually had an almost unreadable expression on his face.

But at this moment, Michael’s face was scary. In the time since Jackie’s dad and Michael’s mom had been married, Jackie had never seen Michael look angry.

Bill Terry had turned when he heard the door burst in and faced a big, roiling package of angry white boy.

Michael grabbed Bill by the front of his shirt and pulled him forward, away from Jackie.

Bill tried to throw a wildly looping punch at Michael, but Michael raised his right arm and blocked it. He just shrugged it off, Jackie thought.

Then Michael struck Bill Terry once, twice, three times in the face, even while he held on to Bill’s shirt with his other hand. The punches came so fast Jackie almost couldn’t follow them. After the third punch, Michael let go of Bill’s shirt and Bill fell into a heap on the floor.

Sammi and Toni, who had apparently been standing in the doorway, edged around Michael and the crumpled form of Bill Terry and each grabbed one of Jackie’s hands.

“Can you walk?” Toni asked, and Jackie thought that was a stupid question until her friends pulled her to her feet and she realized she was still dizzy.

“I need some help, I think,” Jackie said, and even over the loud music she realized she sounded slurred.

Toni and Sammi got on each side and put an arm around Jackie.

Sammi looked up at Michael. One corner of her mouth turned up just a bit.

“You ready, Rambo?”

Michael, breathing hard but not from exertion, turned his attention from Bill Terry and to the three girls and nodded.

“Stay close to me,” Michael said. “Brian Terry is out there.”

“Jesus, all we need right now is another Terry brother,” Toni said.

The music had turned from Ratt to Duran Duran, but “The Reflex” was just as loud. Jackie was having trouble placing one foot in front of the other. But Sammi and Toni had her and they followed Michael into the hallway. A couple of girls pushed past them and Jackie heard them holler Bill Terry’s name when they got to the open doorway and saw him on the floor.

By the time Michael, with the girls behind him, got to the end of the hall and entered the living room, a couple of guys were moving toward them. Jackie heard Sammi say, “Watch out – there’s Brian Terry,” but Michael was ready.

Michael pushed one guy – Jackie didn’t recognize him, even if she had been able to focus – back and over a couch.

Brian Terry – wiry, like his brothers and their old man – raised his fists and tried to close on Michael.

But Michael, lean and tall but more muscled than any 17-year-old had a right to be, had a far longer reach than Brian Terry. His right fist connected with Brian’s jaw and then his left first struck Brian in the gut and Jackie could hear over the music well enough to think the punch sounded like one of those “baseball bats on a side of beef” sound effects from the “Rocky” movies. Jackie was pleased with herself for thinking of this even while she realized how bizarre the thought was.

“No fighting!” came a shout from a guy in a corner of the room. “This is my parents’ house and they’ll kill me if anything gets broken!”

But all the fight had gone out of Brian Terry, who was sitting on the floor behind the couch, trying to recover from having the wind knocked out of him.

Michael, his eyes on Brian Terry’s friend as he struggled to get up from the couch, half-turned to the girls.

“Out the front door,” Michael said. “My car’s down the block on the other side of the street. I’ll be right behind you.”

Sammi nodded and she and Toni started toward the door, still supporting Jackie. But Jackie thought she was a little less dizzy.

A classmate, Lee Ann Ingle, stood in the open doorway, a shocked expression growing on her face. Her boyfriend, David Kennedy, was behind her.

“Oh my god, Jackie,” Lee Ann said. “Are you alright?”

Jackie nodded but was afraid to open her mouth. Her stomach was rolling.

“She’s gonna be okay,” Sammi answered Lee Ann’s question. “The party is getting a little rough, though.”

Lee Ann and David stood to one side to let the girls through. “Do you guys need help?” Lee Ann asked.

“We’re good,” Toni said over her shoulder as they marched Jackie down the driveway. Lee Ann and David watched for a few seconds. “No party for us tonight,” David said, and he and Lee Ann turned and walked back down the street.

Back inside the house, Michael still stood over Brian Terry. He extended a hand. “Want some help up?”

“Fuck you,” Brian said.

Michael withdrew his hand and shrugged.

“You better watch your ass, you fuckin’ hillbilly,” Brian said.

“No reason to keep this scrap goin’,” Michael said as he turned away. “Wouldn’t have happened in the first place if your brother had kept his hands off my sister.”

Michael wasn’t sure Brian Terry had even heard him over the music, but it didn’t matter. They were done.

Outside, Michael found the girls leaning against his old Chevy Nova.

“Pile in,” he said. He looked at Jackie. “You better sit up front in case you’ve got to puke.”

“I’m not gonna puke,” Jackie said before leaning forward and vomiting onto the street.

“Uh-huh,” Michael said.

The girls got in the car, Jackie with her face out the open window, and Michael crossed to the driver’s side.

Michael looked across the top of the car and saw Steve Terry, the youngest of the brothers, standing in the yard of the party house. He didn’t make a move to walk toward them or stop them, despite the efficient beatdowns Michael had administered to his two brothers.

Michael turned the key in the ignition and heard the big V-8 roar to life. He touched the dash and thought of his father, who had left the beautiful old beast to Michael before Michael was old enough to drive.

Michael pulled out onto the street and maintained eye contact with Steve Terry while they pulled away.

I’m late to the party, as usual, here. That’s almost always the case because my watching of streaming series is as slow as old-fashioned-once-a-week-and-off-the-schedule-for-weeks-at-a-time broadcast TV was and is.

I sometimes joke that I’ve still got to finish “The Sopranos,” which is true, and then I need to finish “True Blood” and “Breaking Bad” and watch “Bosch Legacy” and “Lincoln Lawyer” and …

So just as “For All Mankind” has been renewed by Apple TV+ for a fourth season, I’m deep into the first season.

I am, however, positively racing through it, because I am so fascinated and entertained by the show.

I’m a sucker for alternate history stories. “Motherland: Fort Salem,” airing on FreeForm and streaming on Hulu, is a prime example. “The Man in the High Castle” is another, although I’ve still got to finish that one. (Big surprise, huh?)

But “For All Mankind” is one that I can see at the top of my queue for a while now.

If you’ve read this far, you probably know the premise: In an alternate reality, the United States loses the race to the moon to the Soviets. What follows is a ramping up of the American space program, driven at first by Richard Nixon and then by President Ted Kennedy: American astronauts make repeated flights to the moon, eventually establishing a base there. Of course, the Soviets are just around the rim of the same crater.

There’s a lot of drama, both in space and back home among the astronauts and their families, and a generous mix of characters made up of historical figures recast – Armstrong, Aldrin, Deke Slayton and many others – and fictional figures.

There’s derring-do and the suspense that comes from waiting for a safe launch and return and for the wrinkles to be ironed out in space travel.

The space program isn’t the only thing that’s “alternate” in this reality and it’s fascinating to see where the writers take politics and technology and the strides made by women.

“For All Mankind” is an absorbing drama about human achievement driven – and sometimes compromised – by politics and national pride. I look forward to catching up and being ready for future seasons.

This image has given me nightmares.

Sure, I just tweeted it to make a joke, but this particular shot – and all of the 1961 thriller “The Innocents,” really – is a subtle but ultimately terrifying nightmare.

If you don’t know “The Innocents,” I won’t spoil it for you.

But you should see it.

One of the greatest feats a novel, movie or TV series can achieve is world building. To create a world different from our own, in ways large and small, is an accomplishment.

There’s no TV series on the air now that is better at world-building than “Motherland: Fort Salem,” in its third and final season on the cable channel Freeform and streaming on Hulu.

“Motherland” is set in a present-day United States greatly shaped by a decision from the 1620s: Instead of killing women who had been judged as witches, the leaders of Salem, Mass., reached an accord with the women. They embraced the magic that the women possessed. Over the centuries that followed, women not only filled the leadership roles in the growing country – and in other countries – but became the core of the military machine that defended the country. Women run the armed forces and a woman (played by the always-wonderful Sheryl Lee Ralph) is president.

A dominant figure in the world of witches is General Sarah Alder (Lynn Renee), a hero of the American revolution, who over the couple of centuries since has used her magical abilities – and the magic of the witches in the series manifests through cooly weird “songs” they vocalize – to not only run the Army but the titular West Point-style military academy, training young witches who join the military (sometimes at the displeasure of their families, but a call to arms is a call to arms).

The world of “Motherland” is fantastic but utterly believable within the show, and early on focused on the battle against the Spree, a domestic terrorist organization made up of witches. But more recently, the war has focused on the Camarilla, an ancient, man-led group of murderers and would-be dominators. The witches and the Spree form an uneasy alliance against the Camarilla.

I was surprised to learn that a man, Eliot Lawrence, created and guides “Motherland,” although maybe I shouldn’t be. But as a male viewer I feel like the series very ably represents the points of view of the women, who form alliances and have relationships with men in some cases but don’t need men to rescue them. My favorite moment yet might be from early on, when Alder and the women are meeting and the children on the Army base are being shepherded out to play by a couple of male caregivers. No heavy-handed point is made and viewers might not even notice, but it was there and it was smart.

But all of the world building won’t make us tune in if we don’t care about the characters and their stories.

Alder is a complicated figure, not entirely trusted by the women under her in the military, and in the current, third season, her story is off in a wild new direction, post-rebirth thanks to the “mother” entity that lives within Earth.

The series focuses on four young women: Raelle Caller (Taylor Hickson), Tally Craven (Jessica Sutton), Abigail Bellweather (Ashley Nicole Williams) and Scylla (Amalia Holm). The first three are Fort Salem cadets from diverse backgrounds; Bellweather is from a line of women who call to mind the Kennedys, for example. Scylla is a former Spree operative who falls in love with Raelle.

So there’s some soap opera-ish elements of “Motherland” and I’m totally cool with that. The characters in the expansive cast – especially Anacostia Quartermaine (Demetria McKinney), a savvy Army officer at Fort Salem – are varied and wonderful.

The show has a great, diverse cast (diverse in the sense of race but also gender identity and age) that has made some of its characters fan favorites.

I hated to hear that “Motherland: Fort Salem” would come to an end this season and I’m hoping that the very nature of the title means that it could morph and return as “Motherland: SOMETHING ELSEWHERE BESIDES FORT SALEM” because a lot of the action has moved away from the campus anyway.

But I’d urge you to check out the series by going back and watching it from the very first episode, on Hulu. It’s a must for us who love societies and worlds that are much like our own but viewed through a different prism.

I am not a binge watcher. I’ve got a lot of writing to do and I spend too much time on social media, so I’ve got several series to watch, from recent ones like “Ms. Marvel” and “Obi-Wan Kenobi” to “Dark Winds,” which at least I’ve started, but fallen behind on.

I’m serious when I note that I still haven’t finished the final season of “The Sopranos.” I haven’t watched more than an episode of “Breaking Bad.” I still want to watch “The Shield” someday.

Maybe when I retire. Ha.

Anyway, I am riveted by “The Old Man,” along with “Dark Winds” the latest prestige series from FX that is streaming on Hulu.

The premise, if you don’t know, is that Jeff Bridges plays a long-renegade CIA agent who, after decades of living in anonymity, finds himself pursued by his old agency, led by John Lithgow as a seriously conflicted Agency boss.

The series, based on the thriller by Thomas Perry, is realistic – you feel the bumps and bruises every time Bridges has to fight his way out of a predicament – yet fantastical in its insights into a world hidden from us.

I’m about three episodes in, from five that have aired so far and seven produced, I believe, and it’s so good. Bridges is great but Lithgow is wonderful as the CIA spookmaster. He should get an Emmy for this.

Amy Brenneman is so good as a woman who gets drawn into the mess, and it was cool to see Joel Grey pop up in a small part.

I’ll be back, at some point, with a little bit more to say about “Star Trek Strange New Worlds,” which just finished up its first season and is now near the top of all of my favorite Trek series.

I guess I don’t binge but managed to squeeze all those “Strange New Worlds” episodes in, huh?

The timeline of the latest “Star Trek” series begins on January 6, 2021.

Let me explain.

“Star Trek” has always, always been socially conscious, subtly – and sometimes not subtly – weaving commentary about race, gender, war and violence, any topic you care to name, into its stories.

So it shouldn’t be a surprise that “Star Trek: Strange New Worlds,” the latest Trek series from the Paramount+ streaming service, following “Star Trek Discovery” and “Picard,” is blessed with opportunities to tell its stories with not only action and good humor but the grace of equality, justice and fairness.

But in the first episode of “Strange New Worlds,” Enterprise Captain Chris Pike, in helping two warring factions on a planet find some common ground, talks about his birth country, the United States, and its fraught history.

As these factions prepare for civil war, Pike talks about his country’s own two civil wars. (Sandwiched in this history lesson here is the Eugenics Wars, which as longtime fans know gave rise to one-time Earth strongman Khan Noonien-Singh, played by Ricardo Montalban in the original TV series and the 1982 feature “The Wrath of Khan.”) Pike recounts the Eugenics Wars, World War III and the second civil war, and the video that is shown includes footage from January 6. Including the impromptu noose that loomed on the grounds of the Capitol during the insurrectionists’ assault on democracy.

Maybe that inclusion seems crass to you, not unlike citing September 11 in fiction. But I thought it made a couple of points, including another dose of the optimism that is characteristic of all “Star Trek” series and movies.

The point of the original series – and “Strange New Worlds” is a prequel to the 1960s show, showing us Spock and Chapel and Kyle and Uhura and Pike in their younger-by-a-few-years days – was that mankind struggled for years, decades, even the better part of a century, to survive and become unified and worthy of joining a galactic race.

There’s a reason that Pike is watching “The Day the Earth Stood Still,” the 1951 classic – directed by Robert Wise, who in addition to directing “West Side Story” also directed the 1979 “Star Trek: The Motion Picture” – when the first episode opens. There’s a pretty clear through-line between the benevolent but “fuck around and find out” alien of the movie and the Federation of Planets, a benevolent group that totally steers clear of interfering with less-developed planets until, well, some interference is necessary. I don’t know if someone kept track of every time “Star Trek” has violated its own Prime Directive but it happens again in “Strange New Worlds.”

And it’s wonderful.

Of course Pike, like the “Star Trek” captains before him, would never threaten an uncooperative society with planetary annihilation. That’s what the evil Federation does, the “Darkest Timeline” parodied so well on “Community.”

But no “Star Trek” series would be “Star Trek” without the hearts-on-their-sleeves Federation crews getting involved to prevent death and chaos. The one time in the new series that I thought Pike might be forced to stand by and let something horrible happen, the decision was taken out of his hands by a well-timed clobbering over the head, or something more high tech. A cheat? Yeah, probably. But even though, by the 23rd century, the Federation was supposedly cool and collected, we would not want our heroes to just let something horrible happen if they could help it. They’re our surrogates and our idols and our ideals, after all.

I’ll probably have more to say about “Strange New Worlds” at some point, as well as some of the modern-day “Trek” series that I have not yet watched. I jumped into these new Paramount+ series with “Strange New Worlds” because reviews of it have made it sound like my ideal “Trek” series.

And it really is.

I’ll only mention in passing, for now, how amazing this diverse and talented cast is. I find myself wanting to spend more time with every Enterprise and Starfleet character we have met so far, and a number of the recurring and episodic characters. It’s truly inspired writing and casting and performances when there are just so many characters who are so good and seem so true that you’re never like, “Oh, an episode featuring BLANK.” This won’t be one of the strongest episodes.” That has not once been the case here.

“Star Trek: Strange New Worlds” is boldly going and I love every minute of it.

Nobody asked me, but things I’ve watched recently or am currently watching:

“Dr. Strange in the Multiverse of Madness.” Just started streaming on Disney+. It’s really good and Marvel buffs will love it.

“Ted Lasso.” We’re finally watching it because I got a few months of Apple TV with my new iPhone. Man, it’s rare for a TV series to leave me feeling good and better about mankind in general, but this funny, funny series does. Just started season two.

“Dark Winds” on AMC. Based on some of the Tony Hillerman Navajo detectives books. It’s great so far.

“The Old Man” on AMC. Jeff Bridges and John Lithgow are great as former CIA operatives. Bridges went MIA decades before and now Lithgow’s team has to hunt him down. It’s great.

“Foundation” on Apple TV. Might be the most beautiful science fiction series ever. They’ve taken Isaac Asimov’s series about old white men talking about science and made it move and made it diverse.

“Severance” on Apple TV. We’ve only watched a couple of episodes of this bizarre sci-fi workplace comedy/drama but I like it so far.

I haven’t yet tried the new “Star Wars” series, like “Obi-Wan Kenobi,” on Disney+ but they sound great. Same for “Ms. Marvel.” Same for “Bosch Legacy” and “The Lincoln Lawyer” on Amazon Prime. I need to see them STAT.

I really, really want to see the new “Star Trek” series on Paramount+ but we don’t currently subscribe. It’s possible Amazon Prime, Disney+, Netflix and (for a while) Apple TV might be about as much streaming as we can watch/afford. And that’s not even counting stuff I’m recording and enjoying on TCM.

Maybe I need to take a week off and spend all that time playing catch-up.

What are you watching?

A few years ago I was sick and didn’t sleep well at night. Most nights, I didn’t sleep much at all, falling asleep very late and waking up late.

For at least part of that time, we had access to streaming services at home and I watched all of “Deadwood” and discovered, not to my surprise, that everyone was right about the show. That’s the period when I checked out “Bosch,” at least a couple of seasons in, and loved the show. “American Pickers” was another series that I found a lot of comfort in.

But it’s possible there’s no series that was so comforting to me as “Beat Bobby Flay,” the Food Network show featuring the titular chef who earlier, apparently, had a grilling show on the channel.

I don’t watch much in the way of cooking shows and I don’t really watch any cooking competition shows. My better half has introduced me to “The Great British Bakeoff” and it’s fun. But I’m not doing a lot of watching right now, outside of Marvel series on Disney+ and a few random network shows like “Big Sky.”

But I still stop on “Beat Bobby Flay” whenever I come across it while channel surfing and I’ll stop and watch. It reminds me of some of my few comforts when I was sick.

If you’re not familiar with it, the show pits Flay, the restaurant owner and TV host, against chefs from very cool-sounding restaurants. Two chefs take on each other in the first round, and then the winner takes on Flay for the second. A couple of well-known people, ranging from Tina Fey to Wolfgang Puck to Brooke Shields, moderate and cheer on Flay’s competition.

And the latter is the part I like about “Beat Bobby Flay.” While the gimmick of the show is that “everybody is out to beat” him, the show is not afraid to make Flay a figure of scorn on the show that bears his name.

Flay might be the nicest guy in the world, and he’s certainly a good sport, but his show builds him up as a world-class proficient chef and, really, an arrogant ass.

Maybe it’s just because we’re seeing the Flay the show wants us to see, but Flay comes across as someone you root against. We know we’re being manipulated, but by god this is an incredible premise and the show makes the most of it.

I can’t imagine any other show so willing to make every effort to turn everyone against its host. Imagine if CNN put Anderson Cooper in a dunk tank every few nights. Or if the point of Jimmy Fallon was to make people want to throw ripe tomatoes at the host. (Wait, that’s exactly what that show does – or would, I’m sure, if I watched it.)

Again, Flay is pretty good natured to have a whole show built around people rooting for him to get beat. I mean, these people take delight – even if it is corny, put-on delight – in the possibility.

And Flay is not afraid to come off as the bad guy, ending each episode he wins – and that’s most of them – with a smug pronouncement.

Of course, it’s easy to debase yourself when you’re handsomely paid and there’s approximately 10,000 episodes of a show with your name in the title.

But “Beat Bobby Flay” is comfort food, and ingenious at that.

I know, I know: Two blog posts in the same decade. Crazy.

I won’t blog as often as I used to, I promise, but I’ll try to get here when I’ve got downtime from what’s become my day job, post-retirement: Freelance writing.

I was invited to speak to a university class of grad assistants about creativity last year and I started by telling them the least creative thing I could think of, and that was that if they did any freelance writing, they should keep good track of their invoices.

So as a freelance writer who takes my own advice, I did some invoice work last night and this morning and then made some calls for some upcoming articles and did a little research on what might turn out to be a pretty interesting piece.

And around the edges of all that, I took in a little entertainment.

Despite the cable and streaming services we subscribe to, I’m not watching a ton of movies and TV unless it’s something I’ll write about. But strangely, I find that I spend a lot of time – for entertainment and for research for articles – on TCM.

A few years ago, I didn’t watch a ton of TCM, most often classic horror movies in the run-up to Halloween, but it’s become comfort food to me now.

As I’ve gotten older.

And as TCM began airing more movies from the 1960s and 1970s and 1980s, sometimes in “normal” TCM and sometimes in overnight TCM, especially the “TCM Underground” time slot late Friday Nights and early Saturday morning. In those hours, they’re likely to play bizarre ’70s sci-fi and horror and blaxploitation films and lately that’s been my comfort food. That and noir movies of the type I’ve written about lately.

When I was working in news – and I still am, only freelance now – I always felt I had to be current. I couldn’t dip too much into nostalgia for fear of seeming out of touch. At least that was my worry.

Now, around the edges of my writing, I’m finding time to watch some old movies and TV shows. Be assured that some of them are for articles I’m writing.

But some of this old pop culture is for pure enjoyment.

I figured out that I shouldn’t be worried about looking backward too much. I wrote a novel set in 1948 and I’m working on a novel set in October 1984, so I’m enjoying looking backward for those purposes.

It’s that looking backward sometimes helps us look ahead, and nostalgia helps us appreciate the time we came from and the time we’re in. Maybe the time we’re headed, too.

I’ll probably touch on some of this nostalgic stuff as this blog continues (assuming it will). You’ll probably also find it in some of the pop culture pieces I write.

Nostalgia isn’t bad for you and it’s not just for old people.

And you know what? It’s okay when it hits that sweet spot, and when it does act as comfort food.

(Above: Billy Wilder’s 1951 classic “Ace in the Hole.” The movie is set way back in the day but it has a lot to say about today. TCM has it, either on demand or through the HBO Max streaming service. Criterion has it too.)

My last post on this blog was to note the passing of the great Muhammad Ali.

It was June 2016.

The world began its headlong rush to hell, in a jet-powered handbasket, right about that time. Coincidence? I think not.

I’m thinking about coming back and posting on here sometimes. We’ll see if time and temperament permit.