I suppose that fellow was a rubber-necker, and got killed peeping over the trenches.
10-4, Beaver [CB talk for a female], we’re all going down to Plains tomorrow after Jimmy Carter wins.
At the start of the century, widows in Philadelphia, Boston, Baltimore, and Charleston were printers, shoemakers, engravers, and silversmiths, and sometimes blacksmiths, shipbuilders, or gunwrights.
It is a reminder. It is a psychological aegis, a soul-slap, a permanent piece of tangible everpresent everprofound artwork meant to speak to the wearer and say things like: You don't always have to make toast.
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