Friday, March 23, 2018

Post 3683 - The Weekend Is Here

Hello again, you handsome little devils you.

Once again, my body shut down a bit early last night, so no blog post. So the dozens of you who stopped me on the street today and asked why not, know now. I'm sorry.

Patricia had a make-up Pilates class today, so we went there and I had an hour or more to kill. I went to the Good Things Within thrift store. They had, for fifty cents, a Harry Bosch novel by Michael Connelly that I didn't already have. They also had slightly used(!) 9V batteries for 25 cents each. They're alkaline. I am assuming they will work for a spell. I am tired of changing the time and alarms on 12 or so clock radios in the house every time the power goes out and back on again. Yes. I have that many clock radios. Five here in my home office. Five more in the recroom. One in the kitchen. One in the bathroom. One in the master bedroom. And two more in the middle bedroom. I think that's all of them. So, 15 or so. About 12 more down in the Valley home.

Whenever the power comes back on, I spend 20 minutes or so changing the times on these clock radios, and it is a pain in the rump roast. Better to use 9 volt batteries as back ups.

Before you all write me: Don't tell me to throw these radios out. They're like my children. How would you like if I told you to throw out one of your kids because you had too many? You probably wouldn't like it! So, now you know how I feel.

I am glad I got that off my chest.

We were planning to go to the Valley this weekend, but things are going on here that require our attention.

Anyway, after Pilates, we grabbed some lunch at the Wild Leek, a vegan restaurant on Windsor Street, right next door to the used bookstore, and incidentally a block or so away from one of the unsolved murders I wrote about for Frank (I will tell you which one if you ask me nicely). It being Burger Week in Halifax, we both ordered the Philly cheesesteak burger, made from products that never knew what an animal was. It was excellent. Just ask Patricia!

Nom! Nom! Nom!

That translates to: the dill dressing lovingly complements the house salad. Meanwhile, the ersatz cheese sauce is generously ladled on the too good to be true "steak" burger. Bev, being a male pig and all, opted for the fries, which were transcendent.

A couple chocolate treats for take out.

Patricia's meal came with a beer, which she reported (slurp! slurp! slurp!) to be quite good, if a titch bitter.

A wonderful meal, utterly meatless, which made us so full that dinner was nearly unnecessary.

We went to the bookstore next door. One of those places run by a guy who occasionally deigns to speak to you. He had a nice selection of Halifax history books. I will go back there soon and get a few, because he had titles I had never heard of before.

He also had an illustrated version of Sam Slick. Sam Slick was the brainchild of Thomas Chandler Haliburton, who lived in Windsor and was a judge here the better part of 200 years ago. The character's wry commentary on life in the province back then was extremely popular in its day. The "sketches" sold along the lines of Charles Dickens. And Haliburton's character coined/popularized several sayings that entered the vernacular and remain known to this day. "Quick as a wink". Uh, other ones. Like it or not, Haliburton helped found North American humour.

I first heard of Sam Slick, and Haliburton, more than 40 years ago when my Grade Six teacher, the late J. Earl Doyle, spoke of him with some reverence. I was intrigued enough to seek out the books. I am not sure if that was a good idea.

I have a couple copies of "The Clockmaker", which collected most of these sketches. And I cannot penetrate the writing style at all. One time, I got to page two. So I was surprised when people pissed and moaned about Haliburton and Sam Slick, and how racist and politically incorrect the content apparently was. The craven town of Windsor dropped or strongly de-emphasized its connection to Haliburton and to the Sam Slick character. They have not had Sam Slick days for several years now.  The character's complete fade into obscurity will be complete in the next ten years or so. Pity, really.

Anyway, we left the store and went to Sobeys and went home. I did the dishes while Patricia took a nap. Spent a quiet evening at home.

I plan to get up early Saturday morning, or at least relatively early. I think I will turn in.

See you tomorrow.


Wednesday, March 21, 2018

Post 3682 - Two Days Later


So, sorry not to have written the last couple of days. I wasn't feeling well. I pretty much went to bed at 5:30 Tuesday night. I got up around 11pm to get something to eat and then went back to bed.

It's been a busy couple of days. I guess the highlight is that my latest true crime piece, about the 1980 murder of Jason Barkhouse, was published in the issue of Frank that hit newsstands today. And... if you pick up the magazine in the Annapolis Valley or South Shore, the cover for the magazine that sells in that part of the province has my story there on the front cover. I think it is the largest space on the cover, too.

I am deeply flattered by this. I am just a freelancer there, not on staff or anything like that. So for my editor to put my work on the cover, yet again, is deeply gratifying to me, and validating to my work and what I am trying to do with this cold case series.

Jason's murder is especially horrific. It is a terrible shame that it has not been solved. I hope that my story in Frank leads to some tips that can result in the cops reopening the investigation.

I have some other articles in the works. I will be figuring out in the coming days, which one I will be working on for the next issue of Frank.

I am off on Friday, so this is kinda like my Thursday. Our plans for the weekend are still up in the air. But there is a massive garage sale at the former Exhibition Park this weekend. Haven't been to a fleamarket or garage sale in years. They used to be plentiful in these here parts in the pre-Sunday shopping days. Malls would open on Sunday mornings and let vendors come in and sell their crap while the actual stores remained closed. After stores were allowed to open on Sundays, those fleamarkets largely ended. The one at Exhibition Park happens a few times a year. I think there is still a fleamarket at the Halifax Forum, but that is about it.

As I wrote the other night, I got one of the most influential books of my life at a fleamarket at the Pennhorn Mall back in 1988. Perhaps I will go this weekend and see what's there. Perhaps.

Anyway, think I'll turn in. Long day tomorrow.


Sunday, March 18, 2018

Post 3681 - Required Reading

Just hours from now I get up and return to work. A week off doesn't seem like nearly long enough.

Tomorrow another cold case article goes live on the Frank Magazine website. It will be in the printed magazine that goes on sale on Wednesday. It is about a man who was murdered nearly 38 years ago. The details of this man's murder are especially troubling, and it is a travesty that his murder has never been solved.

When I was in the Frank Bunker on Thursday, Cliff told me that I was Halifax's Max Haines. I get where he was coming from, but I was quick to point out that I have never cared for Haines' writing style, which has always struck me as lurid and disrespectful toward the victims.

Now, here is a writer of true crime that I like a great deal, and I think you would like him, too.

Derrick Murdoch reviewed crime literature for the Globe and Mail for 20 years. When he published  "Disappearances" in 1983, he was revered. He won the first Chairman's Award of the Crime Writers of Canada in 1984, probably because of this book and his other body of work at the Globe. After he won it, they renamed the award in his honour, where it is given out biannually to the present day. Murdoch died in 1985.

I still remember buying this book. I had just moved to the city, so it was maybe May of 1988. I was living at 55 Dahlia Street in Dartmouth, close to Sullivan's Pond. Knew virtually nobody in the city, at least nobody who gave a damn about me, and whether I lived or died.

I was trying to find my way around the city, which was a big job for a Valley boy. I found Penhorn Mall and its huge fleamarket, one Sunday morning. I walked around and got some stuff. On my way out, nearly at the door, I saw this very book, the one whose cover I scanned in a moment ago, on a bookshelf along with other books some guy was selling. Fifty cents. On a lark, I bought it.

I got back to my little bachelor apartment and cracked open the book. And reading it scared the living hell out of me. I would parcel out a chapter a night, max; and there were nights when I knew that if I read any of it, I would not be able to sleep that evening.

Every little sound outside my apartment door, every car driving past my building, every voice in the parking lot, took on an added resonance, while I was making my way through this book.

This book remains the single best one about missing persons cases in Canada that I have ever read, or even seen. It should be required reading for anybody who has any interest in this topic. And it should be reprinted for a new generation to read, savor, and appreciate.

Derrick Murdoch is the writer I would most like to be like. He was that good.

No. You can't borrow my copy. Get your own.

I should turn in. I know there is a lot of work waiting for me tomorrow morning.

See you tomorrow, my lovelies.


Saturday, March 17, 2018

Post 3680 - Two Days Later

Yeah, so, hi.

I didn't write yesterday because... well, I am not sure. I turned in a bit late and fell asleep and didn't think to write a post. Maybe I should write them earlier in the day or something.

Today I was doing stuff around the house. The plastic place mat that held Newbie's food and water bowls was dirty so I washed it. Of course, he did not acknowledge this work.

Otherwise, I spent as much time today relaxing before returning to work on Monday. Vacations go by far too quickly.

Sunday, the day before I return to work, I plan to have some actual fun. Wash dishes! Clean the floor. Do some laundry. Stare lovingly into Patricia's eyes.

Maybe none of the above. There's some good TV on.

See you tomorrow.


Thursday, March 15, 2018

Post 3679 - A Special Night

I had a long day. Up early. Downtown Halifax to do some Frank stuff. Bought breakfast at the bakery not far from here. Haircut. Back home. Nap in the afternoon. And... then the evening came.

I attended my first Toastmasters meeting in nearly three and a half months tonight. A friend invited me to come. They're trying to establish a club in Enfield, so I drove there around 5:25 tonight and got there barely half an hour later.

Setting up a new club is not a trivial task, and not for the faint of heart. It takes real work done by real people who want to accomplish what amounts to a grassroots campaign to establish something out of nothing, where nobody is paid to be there, where everybody pays to be there. This new club, assuming it gets off the ground, appears to be in good hands.

My friend invited me because he was doing a speech that would honour former TM'er Holly Bartlett, whom I have written about here before. She was a member of my TM club until her mysterious death in 2010. Alan alluded to her death and used it as a metaphor for how to approach starting a new club and even how to approach participating in a club. It was maybe a bit of a stretch, but I had a chance to stand up and speak about Holly for a moment, which is never easy to do.

When the meeting was winding down, another member spoke about how he had known Holly. He ran a bookclub in Dartmouth. She, a blind woman, would take the correct bus from Halifax to the Dartmouth location where the bookclub met, and then reverse the process to get home.

The more I find out about Holly, the more I admire her, and what she did, and how she did it. She could have really been something, given the chance, and given the time that was robbed from her.

I returned to Halifax. Got something to eat at Wendy's on the edge of Bayer's Lake and then bought something for Patricia and brought it home. I had left her watching "Broadchurch" on Netflix. Hours later, she was watching the last episode as I got home. Eight hours of David Tennant should be enough for anybody.

I have had a long, fulfilling day, one that I must think about more in the coming days.

See you tomorrow.


Wednesday, March 14, 2018

Post 3678 - Day Three

Sorry I didn't write last night. Body shut down earlier than I meant for it to.

I have spent several hours today working on my latest true crime article for Frank. In fact, I just filed it with my editor a few minutes ago. In the morning I will go the the Frank bunker to borrow something from them that I will need when I go to the courts on Spring Garden Road, as I want to research my next next article, due in a couple of weeks. Another unsolved murder that has been grossly under reported over the years.

I cooked dinner tonight. A stirfry. Patricia pronounced it overcooked, and I have to agree. But the most disappointing part of it was the "Spanish rice" mixture we got for half price the other day. "Bland" does not begin to describe it. "Tasteless" is a better word. "Might as well not have been there" is a very apt description.

We watched last night's Black Lightning as well. I am sensing a trend in the show. The main character did not suit up as Black Lightning for story reasons, but I have to wonder if it is not just a way for the show to save some money while other characters demonstrate their own superpowers. Another aspect of the show that is starting to wear on me is the characters' near-constant focus on race and race relations. It is beginning to affect the story flow.

It is now 11:30. I have to get up early to do what I said I would do in the second paragraph.

See you tomorrow.


Monday, March 12, 2018

Post 3677 - Dratted Time Change!

Late Monday night.

We had to get up relatively early today as Patricia had a doctor's appointment in Dartmouth. We got there in plenty of time. She was finished by 9:20 or so. We killed some time until 10am, and then drove the short distance to John Doull's bookstore on Main Street.

Doull's bookstore was downtown Halifax for decades before he got sick of the b.s. and left. He told me this morning that he doesn't miss being there at all. I was less impressed with his most recent downtown store, but the one before that, on Granville Street in the old Roy Building, was most fun.

For many years, there were several bookstores on Granville Street. Doull's. The Book Room, of course. The NS Government bookstore. A bookstore in Granville Mall whose main entrance was on Granville Mall, so I am counting it.  At the other end of Granville, there was a place called Red Herring Co-Op Bookstore, about where the entrance to the ever-changing restaurant in the parkade at the corner of Granville and Sackville Streets. And... if you want to stretch things a bit, since an entrance to Maritime Centre is across the street from the abutment to Granville Street, there was the old Smith's Bookstore there; more recently, and still there, is Dust Jacket Books, which will likely have to move out of there before much longer. So, over the years there have been many bookstores in and around Granville Street. I am sure I am missing a couple!!

I got a Ross MacDonald paperback, collecting the early Lew Archer short stories. Doull has a massive selection of mysteries. We promise not to take six years to go back there for a return visit!!

We returned to Halifax, to the Bayer's Lake Superstore. We spent the $25 Loblaw's card and more on groceries. Drove back to the house. And that is the last I remember for a few hours.

I slept nearly all afternoon. I blame it on the bloody time change over the weekend, which has left me logy. I cooked a late dinner. We watched "American Idol", which is an absolute scream this year with Katy Perry as a celebrity judge.

Tomorrow is day two of my mini vacation. What I will do is up in the air.

See you tomorrow.


Sunday, March 11, 2018

Post 3676 - Three Days Later

Hi. Sorry I haven't written the last few days. I did not purposely take time off from the blog, but it just kinda turned out that way. Both Friday and Saturday nights, I turned in early and slept like crazy. I guess my body knows it is on vacation for the next week and has decided to go by its own schedule.

I wish I could say I have done a lot the last few days. But, I haven't. I have washed dishes and cooked and at this late hour on Sunday night I am washing some dress shirts in the laundry room, right outside this home office.

I will be turning in shortly as I have to get up early-ish tomorrow. Patricia has an appointment over the Dartmouth side, for 9:15. It means getting up no later than 7:30 and being ready to leave an hour later. Crappy way to start a vacation, eh?

This is another Frank deadline week. I have been working on a promising case the last few days and even contacted a source regarding it. On Tuesday I will concentrate on his story, about which I have found very little until I spoke with my source the other night. Another one of the many, mostly-forgotten unsolved murders in Halifax.

Some cases get all the press. I tend to ignore them for that reason. The more obscure cases are the ones that capture my interest the most. Their stories deserve to be told just as much as the better-known ones.

Which all leads to the following: If you know of any Nova Scotia-based unsolved murder or missing persons case, please feel free to contact me right here. I swear I will grant you anonymity if you request it. You can also message me on Facebook, if that works for you, but the email address I just supplied is the best way to contact me.

And, just because I may have already written about a case, doesn't mean I can't revisit it. If you have enough information to let me justify a second article about a case to my editor, then that is certainly do-able. It happened last year with a case, and can easily happen again.

Thank you.

See you tomorrow.


Thursday, March 8, 2018

Post 3675 - Storm Central

Well, that was fun.

We got to work this morning without much incident, although the weather was foul and maybe they should have thought about cancelling schools. Then, around 8:15, Patricia called to tell me that power was out at her work. We were wondering whether they might send her home when it came back on.

Then, around 11:45 this morning, seconds after I had microwaved my roast beef lunch, the power went out at my work. I also learned that there is no emergency lighting in our kitchen, so I could see almost nothing. I made my way back to my desk, ate my lunch, which was just warm enough to be acceptable, and waited for word of the power and when it might come back on.

Management monitored news reports and the Nova Scotia power outage map and decided to send us home around 1:30. Patricia arranged to take a couple hours of vacation time so I picked her up and we drove home, getting cash along the way to pay the young man who would doubtless have cleaned out the driveway by that time. We also stopped off to the bakery in Lakeside, which is a wonderful place serving wonderful food, and you have to go there. We got home. I paid the young man I just mentioned (twice, as it turned out) and we got inside and watched some stuff on the pvr. But by 4pm, I was getting tired, so I took a long nap upstairs.

I capped off the evening by washing a bunch of dishes. My goodness, what an exciting life we lead, eh?

Tomorrow, weather permitting, we will venture forth and see what fresh adventures await. Maybe I will go to the Superstore across from my work and squeeze some lemons, to check for freshness. Gotta live on the edge.

You guys have a good night. Stay warm and dry.


Wednesday, March 7, 2018

Post 3674 - Two Days Later...

Sorry I didn't write last night. My body pretty much shut down around 5:30. Patricia was worried that I wasn't even fit to drive home. I was. I promise.

My body chemistry just works that way. There are days when I get home from work and I am so dog gone tired that I have to call it a night as soon as I get home. Other nights, like tonight, I feel just great.

Tomorrow's lunch should be awesome. I bought some beef over the weekend, including a really nice roast. That roast, along with some onions, cauliflower and green beans, is in the crockpot, where it will cook all night long. Certainly hoping that within the next seven hours or so, it will have finished cooking. Fingers crossed.

So, I messed up recently. Over the years I have heard about people who "had to" take vacation time or they would lose it. I thought they had lost it, alright, if you know what I mean. I was never in a position where I would have so much vacation time left to use that I would be in danger of losing some of that time.

Until this year.

I checked recently and still had over 100 hours of vacation time left. You're allowed to carry over 35 hours, and that goes into the "carryover" bank automatically. Then, you can add another 35 hours to an accumulated bank. So, 70 hours. I had misunderstood the regulations and thought I could put the rest of the time in the accumulated bank.

I was... not correct.

I found out from checking with HR that if I don't use the balance of those hours, 36.33 to be exact, by March 31, then I lose those hours. That is not going to happen. So, I put in for next week for vacation, and that time was approved today. So, after Friday, I will not be back to work until the 19th.

I suppose I am looking forward to the time off, but it feels forced on me. It just tells me that I must be more vigilant in the next fiscal year so that this doesn't happen again. Also, on April 1st, I get the full benefit of six weeks of vacation, up from the present five. With the two weeks I am carrying over (carry over and accumulated) I will effectively have a hair under eight weeks of vacation to use next year, unless I carry over yet more time in a year's time.

I started off in government with a scant three weeks of vacation. They changed the rules so that I got four weeks of vacation after.. six years or whatever it was; and it was in the sixth year of my service, so I just waltzed right into it. I got five weeks of vacation after sixteen years or whatever it was, which seems like yesterday. Now, sneaking up on me, is six weeks of vacation. It makes me wonder where the years have gone, and what I have to show for them.

Well, I have this incredible Model M keyboard for one thing, but that only cost me fifty cents.

Anyway, on that maudlin topic, I think I will call it a night.

See you tomorrow, folks.


Monday, March 5, 2018

Post 3673 - Real Names

So, I got into a Facebook discussion today with someone who shall remain nameless. Not because what he wrote was bad or anything, but just that he didn't give me permission to throw his name around.

He told me that one of the women I wrote about last night uses an on air name different from her actual name. I told him that I didn't really care, that while he told me her real name because she let it slip on the air once and he caught the mistake, I wasn't going to mention it here or anywhere else. She has a right to her privacy, in the same way that you and I do.

Lots of radio folks work under... well, I guess you can call them assumed names. I have heard that, back in the day, a jock would show up at a station and be presented with a list of "acceptable" names to use, because the imaging the station used was already in place for the names on that list, and it would cost too much to produce new imaging under the jock's real name. I don't know if that is true, but it is a neat story.

Some names, I suppose, are considered boring, and the "assumed" names are perceived to be more compelling. Different strokes, there.

Also, in the days before websites, "DJ's" would be nearly anonymous, unless they were doing a remote somewhere or something, or happened to open their mouth in the presence of an avid listener who was astute enough to put two and two together.

It still happens. In addition to this woman, there is a person working a Halifax morning show, very well known, who has worked under a variation of his actual name for many years. I know that name, and will not divulge it, because I like him and see no need to "out" him here.  When I see him, I always greet him by his nom du radio. He always greets me and immediately asks how Patricia is doing.

I remember seeing radio folks on tv, or out somewhere; and because I had never seen them before, and had developed a pre-conceived notion of what they looked like, I would wonder who that person was who sounded just like so-and-so. By times I'd be disappointed to learn that the female jock was less vivacious than I imagined her to be. Other times, she would be breathtakingly beautiful and I would feel too flustered to say anything, so I'd slink away and feel creepy if I kept listening to her show. My hang up, not hers.

It was an interesting back-and-forth that my friend and I had last night. It got me to thinking about the above, and what right jocks have to their privacy, to their actual names, in these days of social media, and station websites, and the increased real life presence radio stations seem to expect of their on air talent these days, compared with when I was a little kid listening to the radio and wondering what the hell these people looked like.

How about you? Ever been "disappointed" to realize how a radio personality looked? Or surprised, at the very least?

See you tomorrow.


Sunday, March 4, 2018

Post 3672 - Radio News

Two pieces of news, just in time for local ratings...

Kate Peardon, for the last several years part of the Q104 morning show, is leaving the station to go off and teach, presumably at NSCC. I had no idea she had an interest in teaching, but there you go.

This is the second time she left radio, by the way. She went into another field for a year or so, occupational health and safety or something like that. But she returned to local radio, spending a few weeks at the former Hal FM before Newcap re-hired her. She eventually worked her way back to the air full time, on the Q morning show. I will miss hearing her every day. She was a fine counterpoint to B.J. Wilson and Bobby Mac, and suffered some of the fools who called in to the morning comments line, not at all.

Taking her place, probably just for the ratings period, will be former Q104 morning's Lisa Blackburn, who was at that station for... 19 years or so? I have to go check, but she was there for quite a few years. She left in 2009 to join mornings alongside her husband at the former Live 92.9. After a format change in... crap, 2014 I think it was, she left and did web work at the CBC before entering municipal politics in 2016. A few months ago, she did a morning show with Scotty Mars, which was a blast to listen to.

Speaking of Scotty Mars and Live 105, he has a new co-host, starting on March 12. It will be none other than Ferne Wynnyk, a jock whose name will confound any spellcheck software. She has been working at the Rogers station for the last couple of years. I first noticed her traffic reports  in the mornings on News 95.7, which were sublime. Traffic reports are the most perfunctory part of any radio broadcast, but Ferne brought a near-poetic aspect to them that cannot be overstated. I am not kidding. She was that good reading the damn traffic reports!

Last year, she moved over to the promotions job at Jack FM and remained at News 95.7 for the weekly Double X Files on the Rick Howe Show.

When I learned on Friday that Ferne was gonna be moving over to a rock station, which I imagine must be her strength, I was elated. I cannot bloody wait to hear what she does in a morning show format. That date cannot get here soon enough.

Three radio stories. Three talented women. What a way to start another week.

See you tomorrow.


Friday, March 2, 2018

Post 3671 - Friday Night

Well, hello there, handsome.

We had a pretty good day off. We had some business over in Dartmouth this morning, so we went there. The only sucky part was when I went to The Smiling Goat in one of those new Dartmouth condo's that have sprung up in recent years. Patricia wanted tea and a muffin. I got them, and was about to buy one for myself when the cashier informed me that those muffins were four dollars each. I put one back real quick.

No way was it worth that kind of money. We shared it in the car before we went in for our business.

After it was over, we drove around a bit and ended up at the Mic Mac Bar and Grill. I had been hearing about the places for many years, so we decided to give it a whirl. When we saw that they had a lobster and steak dinner meal for "only" $34, surf and turf, we both went for it.

It was delicious. The steak was divine. The lobster was... well, lobster-like. Well-prepared. Served with butter and mashed potatoes and mushrooms. If I had to offer any criticism, it is that it should have come with a few vegetables. Green beans. Green beans would have been good.

I reached into my coat pocket to pay. I realized that my wallet wasn't where it should have been. I panicked and ran out to the car. There it was! I had grabbed some cash from the banking machine on the way and had forgotten to put my wallet back in my coat pocket. Sheepish, I returned to the restaurant to the sight of Patricia rifling through my coat, in search of the very thing I had just found.

I paid for the meal, giving the server a really large tip for the inconvenience and to assuage my embarrassment. We left and made our way to the Bibles for Missions thrift store in Lower Sackville. Didn't really get anything.

We returned to the Halifax side of the world, and went to Costco. Went home. Patricia took a nap, and I put the victuals away before watching some stuff on the PVR. We were both still full from our meal.

Tonight we just watched some tv.

A boring day? Maybe. But we got a lot done. And... there are two more days in this weekend to enjoy. I will tell you about those days as they get here.

I think I will turn in. Need some sleep.

See you tomorrow.


Thursday, March 1, 2018

Post 3670 - Short And Sweet

It's late, and I need my beauty coma.

We are both off on Friday, but have scheduled some appointments so we will be running the roads for most of the day. I plan to be plenty sleepy for Friday evening.

Friday evenings used to be the night when people would go out and have fun. For me, now, it is the night that signifies the end of the work week and means I get to sleep more, and sooner. A little sad, really.

I have already scheduled some things for Saturday and Sunday, too. My goodness, what is a fellow to do?

Well, this fellow is toddling off to bed. Beauty coma time.

See you tomorrow.