Spell check from Hell

The Word A Day column is heavenly, even if you don't make a living with words like I used to.

This week's words included heterography, meaning a different spelling from the one in current use. In the beginning, spelling was a free-for-all.

Word A Day: "Each writer spelled words in his own way, trying to spell them phonetically. By the 19th century, most words had a single 'official' spelling, as a consensus, not by the diktat of a committee."

So, our White House Bully Boy is a leading practitioner of heterography.

Just don't expect him to spell it.

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Watching a riot in downtown Reno on TV last night was much better than being in the middle of it, trying to make sense of a situation that had none. Ah, the benefits of switching from newspaper reporter to wire editor.

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Did the Earth shake?

A notice from Storey County reminded me that I did not update my mailing address last year, so the USPS kicked back my Primary Election ballot.

Updating was easy via Nevada's voter page.

I did make one other change: Democratic Party from nonpartisan voter. Major emotional trauma.

When I registered to vote the first time, Richard Nixon was president. I attended a news conference he held a couple years earlier in Reno and the man looked deeply unhappy. I could not make myself register as a member of the political party he led. But I also could not become a Democrat, because LBJ started the process of sending my high-school classmates to die in that festering cesspool of Southeast Asia. Nixon's lies were even worse.

Today, I am a registered Democrat. Take that, DJT.

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What? Wait

Chewy.com's package stickers say McCarran's Zip code is 89437, which does not match Lockwood.

Whew.

Hey, Google. I still want Mustang back!

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Wait, what?

Off the grid: Google Maps has erased the community of Mustang, Nev., replacing it with McCarran. Which is all warehouses and fulfillment centers.

They share a common Zip code, but Mustang has the naughty history.

NDOT hasn't changed the Interstate 80 signs. Maybe Google disapproves of brothels, even though there isn't one at Mustang now.

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First time for everything

The "letter" from the Incompetent in Chief praising himself for the $1,200 handout arrived in the mail this afternoon. Your tax dollars at work.

We set it on fire and dropped it into the kitchen sink to burn itself to ashes. Which it couldn't even do right; flame went out with a 2x3 patch left. Second touch of flame ashed it.

Felt so good. I might do that more often.

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