Can't sleep, probably a wee bit nervous about leaving this afternoon to take the next steps on this journey. We leave at 1:00. At 9:00 tomorrow morning I have the surgery to install a meta-port into my chest which will aid with giving me chemo. Joe and I will have a class called ChemoTeach on Wednesday. Chemo will begin on Thursday. Every morning I'll be having the radiation therapy for five days a week for the next six weeks. As I said, chemo begins on Thursday and is on a 21 day cycle. I'll bore you with what it feels like as I go through it as it happens. Joe and I know nothing about all this, so it's going to be a learning experience. Poor you, you all will have to share it too as I'm taking my laptop along. I'll still be doing my daily posting if at all possible. ;) It'll be just fine. Gee, does it show that I'm procrastinating while waiting for my coffee to finish? Ahhhh, it doesn't get much better than that very first sip of morning coffee!

Clear skies this morning, 29°, wind is at 2 mph from the southeast, humidity is at 85%, pressure is steady at 30.42 inches, and visibility is 8.8 miles.
TODAY: Sunny. Highs in the upper 50s. Light winds.
TONIGHT: MOstly clear. Lows int he mid 30s. East winds at 10 mph shifting to the southeast after midnight.

ON THIS DATE of April 22, 1964 the New York World's Fair opened.

The 1964/1965 New York World's Fair held over 140 pavilions, 110 restaurants, for 80 nations (hosted by 37), 24 US states, and over 45 corporations to build exhibits or attractions at Flushing Meadows Park in Queens, NY. The immense fair covered 646 acres (261 ha) on half the park, with numerous pools or fountains, and an amusement park with rides near the lake. However, the fair did not receive official sanctioning from the Bureau of International Expositions (BIE). Hailing itself as a "universal and international" exposition, the fair's theme was "Peace Through Understanding", dedicated to "Man's Achievement on a Shrinking Globe in an Expanding Universe". American companies dominated the exposition as exhibitors. The theme was symbolized by a 12-story-high, stainless-steel model of the earth called the Unisphere, built on the foundation of the Perisphere from the 1939 NYC fair. The fair ran for two six-month seasons, April 22 – October 18, 1964, and April 21 – October 17, 1965. Admission price for adults (13 and older) was $2 in 1964 (equivalent to $15.78 in 2017) but $2.50 (equivalent to $19.41 in 2017) in 1965, and $1 for children (2–12) both years (equivalent to $7.89 in 2017).

The fair is noted as a showcase of mid-20th-century American culture and technology. The nascent Space Age, with its vista of promise, was well represented. More than 51 million people attended the fair, though fewer than the hoped-for 70 million. It remains a touchstone for many American Baby Boomers, who visited the optimistic fair as children before the turbulent years of the Vietnam War, cultural changes, and increasing domestic violence associated with the Civil Rights Movement.

In many ways the fair symbolized a grand consumer show covering many products produced in America at the time for transportation, living, and consumer electronic needs in a way that would never be repeated at future world's fairs in North America. Many major American manufacturing companies from pen manufacturers, to chemical companies, to computers, to automobiles had a major presence. This fair gave many attendees their first interaction with computer equipment. Corporations demonstrated the use of mainframe computers, computer terminals with keyboards and CRT displays, teletype machines, punch cards, and telephone modems in an era when computer equipment was kept in back offices away from the public, decades before the Internet and home computers were at everyone's disposal.

One of the fair's major crowd-attracting and financial shortcomings was the absence of a midway. The fair's organizers were opposed, on principle, to the honky-tonk atmosphere engendered by midways, and this was another thing that irked the BIE, which insisted that all officially sanctioned fairs have a midway. What amusements the fair actually had ended up being largely dull. The Meadow Lake Amusement Area was not easily accessible, and officials objected to shows being advertised.

Furthermore, although the Amusement Area was supposed to remain open for four hours after the exhibits closed at 10 pm, the fair presented a fountain-and-fireworks show every night at 9 pm at the Pool of Industry. Fairgoers would see this show and then leave the fair rather than head to the Amusement Area; one was hard pressed to see anyone on the fairgrounds by midnight.

The fair's big entertainment spectacles, including the "Wonder World" at the Meadow Lake Amphitheater, "To Broadway with Love" in the Texas Pavilion, and Dick Button's "Ice-travaganza" in the New York City Pavilion, all closed ahead of schedule, with heavy losses. It became apparent that fairgoers did not go to the fair for its entertainment value, especially as there was plenty of entertainment in Manhattan.

The fair ended in controversy over allegations of financial mismanagement. Controversy had plagued it during much of its two-year run. The Fair Corporation had taken in millions of dollars in advance ticket sales for both the 1964 and 1965 seasons. However, the receipts of these sales were booked entirely against the first season of the fair. This made it appear that the fair had plenty of operating cash when, in fact, it was borrowing from the second season's gate to pay the bills. Before and during the 1964 season, the fair spent much money despite attendance that was below expectations. By the end of the 1964 season, Moses and the press began to realize that there would not be enough money to pay the bills and the fair teetered on bankruptcy. In March 1965 a group of bankers and politicians asked showman Billy Rose to take over the fair, which he declined stating: "I'd rather be hit by a baseball bat" and "cancer in its last stages never attracted me very much".

While the 1939–1940 New York World's Fair returned 40 cents on the dollar to bond investors, the 1964/1965 fair returned only 19.2 cents on the dollar. (Wikipedia)

DID YOU KNOW THAT you have the same number of hairs on your body as a chimpanzee does? The difference is, the hairs covering most of your skin are finer and therefore nearly invisible to the naked eye.

WORD OF THE DAY: biophilia (bahy-oh-FIL-ee-uh) which means a love of life and the living world; the affinity of human beings for other life forms. Biophilia is a New Latin word formed by two Greek combining forms widely used in English, bio- (from bíos “life”) and -philia “love (of).” Biophilia was coined by the German-born U.S. psychoanalyst Erich Fromm (1900-80) in The Heart of Man: Its Genius for Good and Evil (1964) in the meaning “love for humanity and nature, and independence and freedom.” E. O. (Edward Osborne) Wilson, U.S. biologist, theorist, and author (born 1929) expanded the meaning to “the rich, natural pleasure that comes from being surrounded by living organisms” in Biophilia (1984). The word biophilia entered English in 1964.

Another beautiful, island day with clear skies, 33°, feels like 30°, wind is at 4 mph from the east, humidity is at 77%, pressure is steady at 30.45 inches, and visibility is 9.7 miles.
TODAY: Partly sunny. Highs in the lower 50s. LIght winds becoming west at 10 mph in the afternoon.
TONIGHT: Mostly clear. Lows in the upper 20s. Light winds.

ON THIS DATE of April 21, 1918, In the skies over Vauz sur Somme, France, Manfred von Richthofen, the notorious German flying ace known as “The Red Baron,” is killed by Allied fire.

Richthofen, the son of a Prussian nobleman, switched from the German army to the Imperial Air Service in 1915. By 1916, he was terrorizing the skies over the western front in an Albatross biplane, downing 15 enemy planes by the end of the year, including one piloted by British flying ace Major Lanoe Hawker. In 1917, Richthofen surpassed all flying ace records on both sides of the western front and began using a Fokker triplane, painted entirely red in tribute to his old cavalry regiment. Although only used during the last eight months of his career, it is this aircraft that Richthofen was most commonly associated with and it led to an enduring English nickname for the German pilot–the Red Baron.

On April 21, 1918, with 80 victories under his belt, Richthofen penetrated deep into Allied territory in pursuit of a British aircraft. The Red Baron was flying too near the ground–an Australian gunner shot him through his chest, and his plane crashed into a field alongside the road from Corbie to Bray. Another account has Captain A. Roy Brown, a Canadian in the Royal Air Force, shooting him down. British troops recovered his body, and he was buried with full military honors. He was 25 years old. In a time of wooden and fabric aircraft, when 20 air victories ensured a pilot legendary status, Manfred von Richthofen downed 80 enemy aircraft.

DID YOU KNOW THAT your right lung is wider and shorter and your left lung in narrower and longer. This frees up space for your liver (located directly beneath your right lung) and your heart (nestled between your lungs).

WORD OF THE DAY: panchreston (pan-KRES-tuh n) which means a proposed explanation intended to address a complex problem by trying to account for all possible contingencies but typically proving to be too broadly conceived and therefore oversimplified to be of any practical use. English panchreston comes via Latin panchrēstos “good for everything, universal.” In Latin, its usage is restricted to medicine or derived metaphors, e.g., Pliny the Elder (a.d. 23-79) uses panchrēstos stomaticē, a phrase of two Greek words with Greek inflections, meaning “universal remedy for ailments of the mouth”; Cicero (106-43 b.c.), in one of his forensic speeches, uses panchrēstō medicāmentō “universal cure” as a scornful periphrasis for “bribe.” The original Greek adjective (and noun) pánchrēstos has the same relatively restricted meaning, i.e., to describe widely useful tools or medications. Panchreston entered English in the 17th century.

Whooo hooo!! Clear skies this morning!! It's 31°, feels like 21°. wind is at 13 mph from the north with gusts to 16 mph, humidity is at 73%, pressure is rising from 30.15 inches, and visibility is 9 miles.
TODAY: Mostly sunny. Highs n the upper 30s. Northwest winds 10 to 20 mph with gusts to around 30 mph.
TONIGHT: Clear. Lows in the lower 20s. Northwest winds 10 to 15 mph with gusts to around 30 mph decreasing to 10 mph with gusts to around 20 mph after midnight.

ON THIS DATE of April 19, 1876 a Wichita, Kansas, commission votes not to rehire policeman Wyatt Earp after he beats up a candidate for county sheriff.

Born in 1848, Wyatt was one of the five Earp brothers, some of whom became famous for their participation in the shootout at the O.K. Corral in 1881. Before moving to Tombstone in 1879, however, Wyatt had already become a controversial figure. For much of his life, he worked in law enforcement, but his own allegiance to the rule of law was conditional at best.

In 1870, residents of Lamar, Missouri, elected Wyatt town constable. He did a good job as constable, but within a year his wife died of typhoid and he began wandering about the West. Not long after, Wyatt was arrested for stealing horses in Indian Territory, and he fled to Kansas to escape prosecution.

In 1873, Wyatt joined his older brother James in Wichita, Kansas, the rowdy cattle town that was the northern terminus of the Chisholm Trail. Wyatt again pinned on a badge. At first, it appears that he worked for a private security force employed by local saloons and businesses to keep order, but Wichita Marshal Michael Meagher hired him as an official city policeman by 1875.

Wyatt soon proved to be a daunting police officer. He knew how to use his Remington pistol, and he kept his skills sharp with frequent sessions of target practice. However, Wyatt also liked the Remington because it had a strap that made it an effective club: whenever possible, he preferred to pistol-whip his opponents rather than shoot them. He was also a formidable fistfighter. His friend and fellow law officer, Bat Masterson, later recalled that, “There were few men in the West who could whip Earp in a rough-and-tumble fight.”

During the next year, Wyatt again proved his mettle as a law officer, but his political skills were less refined. In April, Wichita held an election for city marshal. An opponent named William Smith challenged Wyatt’s boss, Michael Meagher, for the office. On April 2, Smith made several disparaging remarks about Meagher, and Wyatt took offense. Wyatt confronted Smith and beat him in a fistfight.

Although Meagher won reelection, he was unable to save Wyatt’s job. On this day in 1876, a Wichita commission decided that Wyatt’s violent behavior was unacceptable and did not rehire him as a police officer. As the town newspaper conceded, “It is but justice to Earp to say he has made an excellent officer,” but the young lawman had to learn to control his passions and play the political game.

After losing his job in Wichita, Wyatt immediately moved to Dodge City, where he found work on the police force. A few years later he joined several of his brothers in the booming mining town of Tombstone, Arizona. Unfortunately, wherever Wyatt traveled, trouble seemed to follow. In 1881, the controversial gun battle at the O.K. Corral again raised questions about Wyatt’s fidelity to the rule of law. Many claimed Wyatt helped kill Billy Clanton and Tom and Frank McLaury at the O.K. Corral not for legitimate law enforcement reasons, but because of a personal feud between the Earp brothers and the Clanton-McLaury clans. Although exonerated by a local Justice of the Peace, Wyatt was soon after involved in several other questionable murders, and he was eventually forced to flee Tombstone.

Wyatt Earp seemed unable to control his passions or play the political game, though his propensity for solving problems with bloodshed waned as he grew older. He spent the next five decades of a long and interesting life wandering around the West, dabbling in mostly unsuccessful business ventures in gold, silver, and oil. He eventually settled in Los Angeles where he died in 1929 at the age of 80.

DID YOU KNOW THAT your small intestine is four times longer than you are? If it didn't loop back and forth inside your abdominal cavity, there would be no way for it to fit inside you.

WORD OF THE DAY: booklore (BOOK-lawr) which means:
1) facts and information about books, especially about authors and circumstances of publication. 2) book learning. One of the current meanings of booklore, “facts about books, their authors and publication,” applies mostly to the business of buying, trading, and selling books, especially of first editions and antiquarian books. The other meaning of booklore is as a much less common synonym of book learning. Wulfstan of York (died 1023), Archbishop of York and homilist (a writer or speaker of sermons, usually on Biblical or religious subjects) is the first writer to use booklore. Not surprisingly Wulfstan uses bóclár in the sense “book learning, especially religious book learning.” Booklore entered English in the early 11th century.

Since I'm up early, I might as well do the weather. Right now it's mostly cloudy, 31°, feels like 23°, wind is at 9 mph from the north, humidity is at 80%, pressure is steady at 29.92 inches, and visibility is 0.2 miles.
TODAY: Mostly cloudy Patchy freezing drizzle in the morning Highs in the upper 30s. North winds 5 to 10 mph with gusts to around 20 mph.
TONIGHT: Mostly cloudy in the evening then becoming partly cloudy. Lows in the mid 20s. North winds 5 to 15 mph. Gusts up to 25 mph increasing to 35 mph after midnight.

ON THIS DATE of April 18, 1906, at 5:13 a.m., an earthquake estimated at close to 8.0 on the Richter scale strikes San Francisco, California, killing hundreds of people as it topples numerous buildings. The quake was caused by a slip of the San Andreas Fault over a segment about 275 miles long, and shock waves could be felt from southern Oregon down to Los Angeles.

San Francisco’s brick buildings and wooden Victorian structures were especially devastated. Fires immediately broke out and–because broken water mains prevented firefighters from stopping them–firestorms soon developed citywide. At 7 a.m., U.S. Army troops from Fort Mason reported to the Hall of Justice, and San Francisco Mayor E.E. Schmitz called for the enforcement of a dusk-to-dawn curfew and authorized soldiers to shoot-to-kill anyone found looting. Meanwhile, in the face of significant aftershocks, firefighters and U.S. troops fought desperately to control the ongoing fire, often dynamiting whole city blocks to create firewalls. On April 20, 20,000 refugees trapped by the massive fire were evacuated from the foot of Van Ness Avenue onto the USS Chicago.

By April 23, most fires were extinguished, and authorities commenced the task of rebuilding the devastated metropolis. It was estimated that some 3,000 people died as a result of the Great San Francisco Earthquake and the devastating fires it inflicted upon the city. Almost 30,000 buildings were destroyed, including most of the city’s homes and nearly all the central business district.

Despite the utter devastation, San Francisco quickly recovered from the great earthquake of 1906. During the next four years, the city arose from its ashes. Ironically, the destruction actually allowed city planners to create a new and better San Francisco. A classic western boomtown, San Francisco had grown in a haphazard manner since the Gold Rush of 1849. Working from a nearly clean slate, San Franciscans could rebuild the city with a more logical and elegant structure. The destruction of the urban center at San Francisco also encouraged the growth of new towns around the bay, making room for a new population boom arriving from the U.S. and abroad. Within a decade, San Francisco had resumed its status as the crown jewel of the American West.

“You ask me to say what I saw and what I did during the terrible days which witnessed the destruction of San Francisco? Well, there have been many accounts of my so-called adventures published in the American papers, and most of them have not been quite correct.” So began one of the most widely read firsthand accounts of the greatest natural disaster ever to befall a North American city. The words were those of the world’s greatest tenor, Enrico Caruso, who along with the entire traveling company of New York’s Metropolitan Opera, survived the devastating earthquake and fire that struck San Francisco on this day in 1906.

The previous evening had been the opening night of the Metropolitan Opera Company’s San Francisco engagement. Caruso—already a worldwide sensation—had sung the part of Don José in Bizet’s Carmen at the Mission Opera House. He went to bed that night feeling pleased about his performance. “But what an awakening!” he wrote in the account published later that spring in London’s The Sketch. “I wake up about 5 o’clock, feeling my bed rocking as though I am in a ship on the ocean….I get up and go to the window, raise the shade and look out. And what I see makes me tremble with fear. I see the buildings toppling over, big pieces of masonry falling, and from the street below I hear the cries and screams of men and women and children.”

The Palace Hotel, where Caruso and many others in the company were staying, would collapse by late afternoon, but not before all of its guests managed to escape safely. Caruso—or, rather, his unbelievably devoted valet—even managed to remove the bulk of his luggage, which included 54 steamer trunks containing, among other things, some 50 self-portraits. “My valet, brave fellow that he is, goes back and bundles all my things into trunks and drags them down six flights of stairs and out into the open one by one.” That same valet would eventually find a horse and cart to carry the great Caruso and his many belongings to the waterfront Ferry Building—no mean accomplishment on a day when tens of thousands were attempting to escape the fires ravaging the city.

“We pass terrible scenes on the way: buildings in ruins, and everywhere there seems to be smoke and dust. The driver seems in no hurry, which makes me impatient at times, for I am longing to return to New York, where I know I shall find a ship to take me to my beautiful Italy and my wife and my little boys.” By nightfall, Caruso was across the bay in Oakland and boarding a train headed east—news that reached anxious New Yorkers the following day.

DID YOU KNOW THAT this is also the day that Paul Revere and William Dawes set out on horseback from Boston to warn Adams and Hancock (whom the British troops wanted to capture) and rouse the Minutemen. "One if by land, two if by sea".

WORD OF THE DAY: omnishambles (OM-nuh-sham-buh lz) which means a situation, especially in politics, in which poor judgment results in disorder or chaos with potentially disastrous consequences. The first element of omnishambles, omni- “all,” is familiar in English in omnibus, omnipotent, omnivorous, and omniscient, derived from the Latin adjective omnis “all.” Shambles has a gorier history. In the 9th century the Old English noun scomol (spelled variously) simply meant “stool, footstool,” derived from Latin scamellum, scamillum “low stool.” By the 10th century the noun also meant “a counter or table for conducting business”; by the 14th century the word acquired the sense “table or counter for selling meat.” During the 16th century shambles came to mean “slaughterhouse; place of wholesale carnage.” Shambles in the sense “a mess, a ruin, scene of disorder” was originally an Americanism, first occurring in print in 1926.

Mostly cloudy skies this morning, 26°, feels like 15°, wind is at 12 mph from the northwest with gusts to 21 mph, humidity is at 93%, pressure is steady at 29.65 inches, and visibility is 5.8 miles.
TODAY: Cloudy. Snow showers likely in the morning, then a chance of snow showers in the afternoon. Little or no snow accumulation. Highs in the mid 30s. Northwest winds 10 to 20 mph with gusts to around 30 mph. Chance of snow is 70%.
TONIGHT: Mostly cloudy. Slight chance of light freezing rain and snow showers in the evening, then slight chance of light freezing rain after midnight. Lows in the mid 20s. Northwest winds 5 to 15 mph. Gusts up to 25 mph in the evening. Chance of precipitation is 20%.

ON THIS DATE of April 17, 1790, American statesman, printer, scientist, and writer Benjamin Franklin dies in Philadelphia at age 84.

Born in Boston in 1706, Franklin became at 12 years old an apprentice to his half brother James, a printer and publisher. He learned the printing trade and in 1723 went to Philadelphia to work after a dispute with his brother. After a sojourn in London, he started a printing and publishing press with a friend in 1728. In 1729, the company won a contract to publish Pennsylvania’s paper currency and also began publishing the Pennsylvania Gazette, which was regarded as one of the better colonial newspapers. From 1732 to 1757, he wrote and published Poor Richard’s Almanack, an instructive and humorous periodical in which Franklin coined such practical American proverbs as “God helps those who help themselves” and “Early to bed and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.”

As his own wealth and prestige grew, Franklin took on greater civic responsibilities in Philadelphia and helped establish the city’s first circulating library, police force, volunteer fire company, and an academy that became the University of Pennsylvania. From 1737 to 1753, he was postmaster of Philadelphia and during this time also served as a clerk of the Pennsylvania legislature. In 1753, he became deputy postmaster general, in charge of mail in all the northern colonies.

Deeply interested in science and technology, he invented the Franklin stove, which is still manufactured today, and bifocal eyeglasses, among other practical inventions. In 1748, he turned his printing business over to his partner so he would have more time for his experiments. The phenomenon of electricity fascinated him, and in a dramatic experiment he flew a kite in a thunderstorm to prove that lightning is an electrical discharge. He later invented the lightning rod. Many terms used in discussing electricity, including positive, negative, battery, and conductor, were coined by Franklin in his scientific papers. He was the first American scientist to be highly regarded in European scientific circles.

Franklin was active in colonial affairs and in 1754 proposed the union of the colonies, which was rejected by Britain. In 1757, he went to London to argue for the right to tax the massive estates of the Penn family in Pennsylvania, and in 1764 went again to ask for a new charter for Pennsylvania. He was in England when Parliament passed the Stamp Act, a taxation measure to raise revenues for a standing British army in America. His initial failure to actively oppose the controversial act drew wide criticism in the colonies, but he soon redeemed himself by stoutly defending American rights before the House of Commons. With tensions between the American colonies and Britain rising, he stayed on in London and served as agent for several colonies.

In 1775, he returned to America as the American Revolution approached and was a delegate at the Continental Congress. In 1776, he helped draft the Declaration of Independence and in July signed the final document. Ironically, Franklin’s illegitimate son, William Franklin, whom Franklin and his wife had raised, had at the same time emerged as a leader of the Loyalists. In 1776, Congress sent Benjamin Franklin, one of the embattled United States’ most prominent statesmen, to France as a diplomat. Warmly embraced, he succeeded in 1778 in securing two treaties that provided the Americans with significant military and economic aid. In 1781, with French help, the British were defeated. With John Jay and John Adams, Franklin then negotiated the Treaty of Paris with Britain, which was signed in 1783.

In 1785, Franklin returned to the United States. In his last great public service, he was a delegate to the Constitutional Convention of 1787 and worked hard for the document’s ratification. After his death in 1790, Philadelphia gave him the largest funeral the city had ever seen.

DID YOU KNOW THAT in 1989, the United States armed forces bought 3.3 million pounds of SPAM?

WORD OF THE DAY: sitomania (sy-tuh-MAY-nee-uh) which means an abnormal craving for food. From Greek sito- (grain, food) + -mania (excessive enthusiasm or craze). Earliest documented use: 1882. The opposite is sitophobia.

...and it's still snowing and blowing. Schools are closed all over the state, along with some businesses. In spite of all the plows out doing their best to keep up, the roads are very slick so if you don't have to be out traveling, find a good book/movie and settle in until this passes. Right now I'm showing snow, 27°, feels like 18°, wind is at 10 mph from the north with gusts to around 20 mph, humidity is at 95%, pressure is steady at 29.71 inches, and visibility is 3.7 miles. We are still under a Winter Storm Warning until 8:00 tonight.
TODAY: Snow showers and freezing drizzle in the morning, then snow showers in the afternoon. Total daytime snow accumulation of 3 to 4 inches. Highs in the lower 30s. North winds 10 to 15 mph with gusts to around 30 mph.
TONIGHT: Snow showers. Total nighttime snow accumulation of 1 to 4 inches. Lows in the mid 20s. Northwest winds 10 to 20 mph with gusts to around 30 mph.

ON THIS DATE of April 16, 1947 a fertilizer explosion kills 581 in Texas.

A giant explosion occurs during the loading of fertilizer onto the freighter Grandcamp at a pier in Texas City, Texas, on this day in 1947. Nearly 600 people lost their lives and thousands were injured when the ship was literally blown to bits.

Ammonium nitrate was used as an explosive by the U.S. Army in World War II and, after the war ended, production of the chemical continued as its use as a fertilizer became accepted. However, the precautions used in its transport became far more lax in the post-war years.

On April 16, the Grandcamp was being loaded with ammonium nitrate as well as tobacco and government-owned ammunition. Cigarette smoking, although officially banned, was a common practice by longshoremen on the docks. Just two days prior to the explosion, a cigarette had caused a fire on the docks. On the morning of April 16, smoke was spotted deep within one of the Grandcamp‘s holds.

Some water and an extinguisher were used to fight the fire, but hoses were not employed for fear of ruining the cargo; there were already 2,300 tons loaded on the ship. While the ammunition was removed from the ship, the crew attempted to restrict oxygen to the hold in hopes of putting out the fire. Apparently they did not realize that because of ammonium nitrate’s chemical composition, it does not require oxygen in order to burn.

By 9 a.m., flames had erupted from the hold and within minutes it exploded. The blast was heard 150 miles away and was so powerful that the ship’s 1.5- ton anchor was found two miles away. The force of the explosion lifted another ship right out of the water. People working at the docks were killed instantly.

Pieces of flaming debris damaged the oil refineries in the area. A nearby Monsanto chemical storage facility also exploded, killing 234 of the 574 workers there. Nearly all of the survivors were seriously injured. A residential area of 500 homes was also leveled by the blast. Another ship, the High Flyer, which was carrying similar cargo, was pushed completely across the harbor. The crew fled when it came to rest, failing to notice that a fire had started and the next day their ship also exploded. Two people died.

In all, 581 people died and 3,500 were injured. The explosion caused $100 million in damages. A long-disputed court case over the cause of the blast was resolved when Congress granted compensation to 1,394 victims. They received a total of $17 million in 1955. The port was rebuilt to handle oil products only.

DID YOU KNOW THAT armoured knights raised their visors to identify themselves when they rode past their king. This custom evolved into the modern military salute.

WORD OF THE DAY: ken (ken) which means knowledge, understanding, or cognizance; mental perception. English ken comes from the very widespread Proto-Indo-European root gnō- (and its variants gnē-, gen-, and gṇ-) “to know.” The variant gnō- appears in Greek gignṓskein (and dialect gnṓskein), Latin gnōscere, nōscere, and Slavic (Polish) znać “to know.” The variant gnē- forms cnāwan in Old English (and know in English); the variant gṇǝ- (with suffixed schwa) yields cunnan “to know, know how to, be able” in Old English (and can “be able” in English). Ken is recorded in English before 900.

Well ok, Mother Nature has decided to include Beaver Island in her party. Actually we are in a Winter Storm Warning until 2:00 am on Monday, so be very careful out there. Roads are going to be slippery and limbs will be coming down in this wind. It's very windy and snowing, 23°, feels like 8°, wind is at 22 mph from the northeast with gusts to 32 mph, humidity is at 75%, pressure is rising from 30.24 inches, and visibility is 2.1 miles. I'm thinking that this is NOT a good day for a beach walk.
TODAY: Blowing snow in the morning. Snow, sleet, and a chance of freezing rain in the morning, then freezing rain, sleet, and snow in the afternoon. Windy. Precipitation may be heavy at times. Today daytime snow accumulation of 1 to 7 inches. Ice accumulation of up to one quarter of an inch. Highs in the lower 30s. East winds 15 to 30 mph with gusts to around 50 mph.
TONIGHT: Patchy blowing snow in the evening. Snow, light sleet, and freezing rain in the evening, then snow and a slight chance of light sleet after midnight. Breezy. Total nighttime snow accumulation of 1 to 3 inches. Ice accumulation of less than one quarter of an inch. Lows in the upper 20s. East winds 15 to 25 mph with gusts to around 45 mph shifting to the northeast 10 to 15 mph with gusts to around 35 mph after midnight.

ON THIS DATE of April 15, 1912, Molly Brown avoids sinking with the Titanic.

A 20th century version of the strong and resourceful women of the Wild West, Molly Brown wins lasting fame by surviving the sinking of the Titanic.

Molly Brown was an unlikely candidate for fame and fortune. Born Margaret Tobin in 1867 in Hannibal, Missouri, she was the daughter of an impoverished ditch-digger. When she was a teenager, she went west and joined her brother, who was working in the booming silver mining town of Leadville, Colorado. She caught the eye of James J. Brown, the manager of a local silver mine, and the couple married in 1886.

Not long after the marriage, James J. Brown discovered a fabulously profitable deposit of gold. Almost overnight, the Browns became enormously rich. The couple moved to Denver, bought a beautiful mansion, and tried unsuccessfully to become a part of the exclusive high society of the city. A flamboyant woman with a forceful personality, Molly appears to have been too much for Denver’s bluebloods to handle. Apparently, she was also more than her husband could handle, and the couple soon separated.

Supported by a sizeable income from her estranged husband, Brown abandoned the narrow social life of Denver to travel the world. Whereas the Denver elite had dismissed her as a coarse upstart, socially prominent eastern families like the Astors and Vanderbilts prized her frank western manners and her thrilling stories of frontier life.

Brown’s rise to national fame began on this night in 1912, while she was aboard the Titanic, returning from a European trip. After the ship hit an iceberg and began to sink, Brown was tossed into a lifeboat. She took command of the little boat and helped rescue a drowning sailor and other victims. To keep spirits up, she regaled the anxious survivors with stories of her life in the Old West.

When newspapers later learned of Brown’s courageous actions, they promptly dubbed her “the unsinkable Mrs. Brown” and she became an international heroine. Eventually, Brown’s money ran out and she faded from the public view, dying in modest circumstances in New York City in 1932. However, the Broadway musical The Unsinkable Molly Brown revived her fame for a new generation in 1960.

DID YOU KNOW THAT in the 1950's, Disneyland bought several cats in order to hunt mice at night? There are now more than 200 felines at the amusement park.

WORD OF THE DAY: pantofle (PAN-tuh-fuhl) which means
1) a slipper; 2) a cork-soled patten covering the forepart of the foot, worn in the 16th century. Pantofle “indoor shoe, slipper” comes from Middle French pantoufle, pantophle (and other spellings). The word occurs in other Romance languages, e.g., Occitan and Italian have pantofla (and other spellings), and Spanish has pantufla. Catalan changed the position of the l in original pantofla to plantofa under the influence of planta “sole (of the foot)”; compare English plantar (wart). Further etymology of pantofle is speculative. Pantofle entered English in the late 15th century.

Well, the big predicted storm has missed us so far, it's all south of us. I'm not showing us getting anything until Sunday night into Monday and gone by Tuesday. Right now it's breezy, 27°, feels like 15°, wind is at 17 mph from the northeast with gusts up to 23 mph, humidity is at 58%, pressure is rising from 30.30 inches, and visibility is 9 miles.
TODAY: (haven't seen it yet, but my forecast widget says the following) Snow in the morning, then snow likely in the afternoon. Breezy. Total daytime snow accumulation up to 1 inch. Highs in the upper 20s. Northeast winds 15 to 25 mph with gusts to around 45 mph.
TONIGHT: Mostly cloudy with a 50% chance of snow. Windy. Lows in the mid 20s. East winds 20 to 30 mph with gusts to around 50 mph.

ON THIS DATE of April 14, 1975 The American airlift of Vietnamese orphans to the United States ends after 2,600 children are transported to America. The operation began disastrously on April 4 when an Air Force cargo jet crashed shortly after take-off from Tan Son Nhut airbase in Saigon. More than 138 of the passengers, mostly children, were killed. Operation Baby Lift was initiated to bring South Vietnamese orphans to the United States for adoption by American parents. Baby Lift lasted 10 days and was carried out during the final, desperate phase of the war, as North Vietnamese forces were closing in on Saigon. Although the first flight ended in tragedy, all other flights took place without incident, and Baby Lift aircraft ferried orphans across the Pacific until the mission concluded on April 14, only 16 days before the fall of Saigon and the end of the war.
NOTE: I chose this little tidbit because there is a connection to the island. Ellen Hill, daughter of Walker Hill (my dad's partner and owner of the Rustic Villa), was one of the airline attendants with the "Baby Lift" and used to tell us tales about it.

DID YOU KNOW THAT in Florida is is again the law to put livestock on a school bus?

WORD OF THE DAY: carking (KAHR-king) which means distressful. Carking derives from Norman French carquier “to load, burden,” from Late Latin carcāre, carricāre “to load.” In Old French, i.e., Parisian French, the dialect spoken in the île de France (the region of France that includes Paris), Late Latin carcāre becomes chargier (which becomes charge in English). Norman French does not palatalize c (representing the sound k) before a, which Old French does; thus in English we have the doublets cattle (from Norman French) and chattel from Parisian French. Late Latin carcāre becomes cargar “to load” in Spanish, the source of English cargo. Carking entered English in the early 14th century.

I'm not down at the dock to watch it, but, just heard the Emerald Isle toot and today marks the beginning of the ferry schedule. We are now fully open for business! The store shelves will have to wait a few days as the grocery truck can't get on the boat until Wednesday. So, it you're out of something, you'll have to make do for a few more days.

Feel free to skip this part if you aren't all that interested in "The Travels of Moore Cancer" I don't know why exactly, but a trip to the mainland simply wears me out for a day or two. Yesterday was rather hectic with blood draws, hearing tests (who knew that chemo could hurt your hearing?){Joe discovered that he was right [yes, Joe, it is in print], that I'm losing my hearing in my left ear), meeting with a cancer social worker, meeting my radiation doctor and nurse (the nurse who incidentally used to work for Island Airways back when Paul Barron was still living) Shelley, but I didn't get her last name. Then having another MRI, with and without contrast, getting tattoos so they will be able to pin-point where the radiation will go. We now know it's stage 3 lung cancer. Somehow a tiny bit went to my lymph nodes. Still the same, God has us in his pocket, Muggs is watching over us, and I'm just stubborn enough to beat this thing so I can keep bugging you all for many more years - not to mention driving Joe crazy. The radiation therapy will start on the 23rd and be five days a week for six weeks. The chemo will begin on the 26th following a day of "chemo teach" and more blood draws and shots. That will happen every 21 days, as it's not a daily thing. It was once busy day and so today I'm whipped. Probably a good thing considering how the weekend is looking weather-wise.

There is a Winter Storm Watch in effect until Sunday at 5 pm.
Right now I'm showing 31°, feels like 24°, overcast skies, wind is at 7 mph from the east, humidity is at 99%, pressure is rising from 29.98 inches, and visibility is 7 miles.
TODAY: Chance of rain and snow in the morning, then rain in the afternoon. LIttle or no snow accumulation. Highs in the upper 30s. Northeast winds 5 to 15 mph. Gusts up to 30 mph in the afternoon.
TONIGHT: Rain, snow, and a chance of freezing rain in the evening, then snow and a chance of freezing rain after midnight. Total nighttime snow accumulation of 3 to 6 inches. Ice accumulation of less than one quarter of an inch. Lows in the mid 20s. Northeast winds 10 to 20 mph with gusts to around 35 mph.

ON THIS DATE of April 13, 1964, Sydney Poitier becomes the first African American to win the Academy Award for Best Actor, for his role as a construction worker who helps build a chapel in Lilies of the Field (1963).

Poitier was born in 1924, while his parents were visiting the United States from the Bahamas, where his father was a tomato farmer. As a teenager, Poitier dropped out of school and returned to America to enlist in the U.S. Army during World War II. After his military stint, he became interested in theater and applied to the American Negro Theatre in New York City. Rejected initially because of his strong island accent, Poitier trained himself in American enunciation and reapplied, this time successfully. He debuted on Broadway in 1946 in an all-black production of Lysistrata, and by 1950 he was appearing in Hollywood films, beginning with No Way Out.

By consistently refusing to play the stereotypical roles that were offered to him as a black actor, Poitier blazed a trail for himself and the performers who followed him. By the time he earned a Best Actor Oscar nomination for The Defiant Ones (1958), his work in such films as The Blackboard Jungle (1955) had made him America’s first prominent black film star. With his historic Oscar win for Lilies of the Field, Poitier became only the second African American to win an Academy Award. The first was Hattie McDaniel, who won in the Best Supporting Actress category in 1939 for Gone with the Wind. McDaniel played Mammy, the tough but indulgent slave governess to the spoiled Southern belle Scarlett O’Hara. Critics of the film, including the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), later pointed to the role as an example of the typical black stereotypes that Hollywood was keeping alive.

When presenting Poitier with his Oscar statuette, the actress Ann Bancroft congratulated him with a kiss on the cheek, a gesture that caused a mild scandal among the show’s most conservative audiences. Poitier took part in a more momentous kiss three years later, when he and Katherine Houghton shared the first interracial on-screen kiss in Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner? (1967).

DID YOU KNOW THAT a sneeze travels out of your mouth at over 100 mph?

WORD OF THE DAY: tub-thump (TUHB-thuhmp) which means to promote something or express opinions vociferously. Tub-thump, a very rare word, is a back formation of tub-thumper “a vociferous supporter of a cause.” The verb tub-thump was coined by the British author Herman C. McNeile (1888–1937), whose pen name was “Sapper," and who wrote the series of thrillers whose hero was Bulldog Drummond. The only other author to use the verb tub-thump was the American poet and editor Ezra Pound (1885-1972). Tub-thump entered English in 1920.

How about that? I actually am awake enough to use the computer while waiting for my coffee. We are under a WINTER STORM WATCH from Friday morning through Sunday afternoon. If you have to travel, please be careful!
Right now we have light snow, 34°, feels like 26°, wind is at 10 mph from the east, humidity is at 81%, pressure is rising from 29.74 inches, and visibility is 7.7 miles.
TODAY: Rain, light freezing rain, and light sleet in the morning, then a chance of rain in the afternoon. Patchy fog through the day. Little or no snow accumulation. Ice accumulation of less than one quarter of an inch. Highs around 40°. East winds 5 to 15 mph shifting to the north in the afternoon. Gusts up to 25 mph.
TONIGHT: Mostly cloudy. Lows in the lower 30s. East winds at 10 mph. Gusts up to 20 mph after midnight.

ON THIS DATE of April 12, 1954— Bill Haley and the Comets recorded “(We’re Gonna) Rock Around The Clock.” If rock and roll was a social and cultural revolution, then “(We’re Gonna) Rock Around The Clock” was its Declaration of Independence. And if Bill Haley was not exactly the revolution’s Thomas Jefferson, it may be fair to call him its John Hancock.

Bill Haley put his enormous signature on rock and roll history during the final 40 minutes of a three-hour recording session in New York City—a session set up not for the recording of “(We’re Gonna) Rock Around The Clock,” but of a song called “Thirteen Women (and Only One Man in Town).” It took the group nearly all of their scheduled session to get a useable take of “Thirteen Women,” a song that was entirely new to them but was chosen as the A-side of their upcoming single by their new record label, Decca. With time running out and no chance of extending the session, Haley and his Comets were eager to lay down the song they’d been playing live for many months to enthusiastic audience response. The lead guitarist brought in for the session, Danny Cedrone, had not had time to work up a new solo for the instrumental break on “(We’re Gonna) Rock Around The Clock,” so he repurposed one he’d used on a Haley recording two years earlier called “Rock This Joint.” Cedrone was paid $31 for his work that evening, which included performing what is still recognized as one of the greatest guitar solos of all time.

Haley and the band had time for only two takes, and in the first, they played so loud that Haley’s vocals were almost inaudible on tape. In an era before multi-track recording, the only solution was to do a second take with minimal accompaniment and hope for the best. Later, a Decca engineer painstakingly spliced together segments from both takes—a near-miracle given the technology of 1954. The finished version was judged good enough to include as the B-side on “Thirteen Women,” which was released in May 1954.

The single sold a respectable but underwhelming 75,000 copies in the coming months, and was destined to be forgotten until a 10-year-old kid in Los Angeles flipped “Thirteen Women” and fell in love with the now-famous B-side. That kid, Peter Ford, happened to be the son of actor Glenn Ford, who was slated to star in the upcoming teenage-delinquency drama Blackboard Jungle. Peter turned his father on to “(We’re Gonna) Rock Around The Clock,” and soon enough, the song was chosen to play over the opening credits of Blackboard Jungle, which is how it became a pop sensation, selling a million copies in a single month in the spring of 1955. (and now you have an earworm to get you through the day).

DID YOU KNOW THAT in Clawson, Michigan there was a law that makes it legal for a farmer to sleep with his pigs, cows, horses, goats, and chickens?

WORD OF THE DAY: mercurial (mer-KYOO R-ee uhl) which means changeable; volatile; fickle; flighty; erratic. The English adjective mercurial ultimately comes from the Latin adjective mercuriālis “of or pertaining to Mercurius“ (i.e., the god Mercury), whose original function was as god of commerce, transporters of goods (especially of grain), and shopkeepers. Latin also has the plural noun, derived from the adjective, Mercuriālēs, the name of a guild of merchants. Mercurius is related to merx (stem merc-) “goods, wares, commodities” (and the ultimate source of English merchant and merchandise). By classical times Mercury was completely identified with the Greek god Hermes—the messenger of the gods because he was fast-moving, and always on the move, negotiating, fast-talking, making deals, flimflamming, playing tricks. Mercurius also acquired the meaning “pertaining to the planet Mercury” ( Stella Mercuriī, “Star of Mercury,” a translation of Greek astḕr toû Hermoû), the fastest moving of the planets. Mercurial entered English in the 14th century in the sense “pertaining to the planet Mercury.”

As usual, it was so wonderful to sleep in our own bed last night. That also explains why I'm so late in posting this, as I didn't even wake up until 8:00. By the way, thank you all for the thoughts, prayers, phone calls, hugs, and cupcakes and we weave down this bumpy road called cancer. If there was a Cancer County crew, we'd ask them to smooth out the road, but since there isn't, we'll be stepping over, wading through, or trying to circle around the potholes. Ok, on to the weather, and please don't throttle the messenger!
It's snowing!! 34°, feels like 26°, wind is at 12 mph from the southwest, humidity is at 83%, pressure is rising from 29.89 inches, and visibility is 9.8 miles.
TODAY: Partly sunny. Chance of snow showers and slight chance of light freezing rain in the morning. Highs in the lower 40s. West winds 5 to 15 mph with gusts to around 25 mph.
TONIGHT: Mostly clear in the evening, then mostly cloudy with rain showers likely with possible snow showers and freezing rain after midnight. Lows in the lower 30s. Southwest winds at 10 mph shifting to the southeast with gusts to around 25 mph after midnight.

ON THIS DATE of April 11, On this day in 1888, 24-year-old Henry Ford marries Clara Jane Bryant on her 22nd birthday at her parent’s home in Greenfield Township, Michigan. Clara Ford would prove to be a big supporter of her husband’s business ideas: Fifty years later, Henry Ford–who by then had founded the Ford Motor Company, invented the top-selling Model T car and revolutionized the auto industry with his mass-production technology–was quoted in a 1938 New York Times Magazine article as saying, “The greatest day of my life is when I married Mrs. Ford.”

The couple, both of whom came from farm families, first met at a New Year’s dance in Michigan in 1885. During their courtship, they enjoyed such activities as dancing, corn-husking parties and boating excursions. According to “Clara: Mrs. Henry Ford,” a biography by Ford R. Bryan: “The two were impressed by each other, Clara with Henry’s unique mechanical talents and Henry with Clara’s serious and appreciative disposition.” They were engaged in April 1886, but the future bride’s mother thought she was too young to wed and made them wait another two years.

After their marriage, the Fords lived on farm land given to Henry by his father. By 1891, however, the couple moved to Detroit, where Henry Ford began working as an engineer for Edison Illuminating Company. The couple’s only child, Edsel, was born in November 1893. In 1896, Ford completed a four-wheel, self-propelled vehicle with a gasoline engine called the Quadricycle. During the early years of their marriage, the couple lived in 10 different rental homes while Henry worked to develop an automobile. After incorporating the Ford Motor Company in 1903, Henry launched the Model T in 1908. The car, which was in production until 1927, held the record for the world’s top-selling vehicle until it was surpassed by the Volkswagen Beetle in 1972.

In 1915, the Fords moved into a mansion built on land they owned in Dearborn, Michigan. The home, named Fair Lane, included an indoor swimming pool, billiard room, bowling alley and dance floor, as the Fords had always liked to dance. Clara Ford managed the estate staff, pursued such interests as gardening and traveled around the world on business trips with Henry.

Henry Ford died at the age of 83 on April 7, 1947; Clara Ford died three years later, on September 29, 1950, at the age of 84. Their son Edsel, who worked for the family business, preceded both his parents in death, dying at the age of 49 from cancer on May 26, 1943.

NOTE: My grandfather, O.I. Gregg, was the landscape architect for Ford's estate. Besides the pay, Ford gave him a car as a gift.

DID YOU KNOW THAT: Edsel Ford, son of Henry (and no relation to Gerald R.), may forever be associated with Detroit's biggest flop, but he died 14 years before the line of cars bearing his name came out. Edsel himself would most likely have done a much better job with the design—he was, after all, responsible for the body of the super-successful Model A, as well as its braking and transmission systems.

WORD OF THE DAY: astroturfing (AS-truh-turf-ing) the deceptive tactic of simulating grassroots support for a product, cause, etc., undertaken by people or organizations with an interest in shaping public opinion. Astroturfing was originally an Americanism, coined in 1974, meaning “to cover an area with Astroturf (a carpetlike covering made of vinyl and nylon to resemble turf, used for athletic fields, patios, etc.).” Twenty years later (1993) the current sense of Astroturfing “the deceptive tactic of simulating grassroots support for a product or cause, undertaken to influence public opinion” first appeared in Canadian and Australian newspapers.

Well, here we are again, in at the Weathervane in Charlevoix. We'll be spending a whole lot more time on the mainland, or at least I will, as Joe as lots of work to do for the website. I got the roll of the dice that said six rounds of chemo along with six weeks of radiation five days a week. (going to miss a bunch of $2 Tuesdays at the Pub) We're going to get rid of the bad guys! Of course the side effect (one of many) will be the loss of my hair. I'm not vain, I sorta knew this was coming, which was why I haven't cut it in a year. I detest wearing baseball caps or most any hat until it's freezing outside. So, what I'm going to do, once the hair goes, is to get a bunch was washable markers and I can then become a cancer autograph little person. It will have a triple edge - 1) it'll poke fun at cancer and 2) it will show folks that bald is beautiful and doesn't have to be hidden, and 3) it'll make more folks aware of cancer and it's not something to be ashamed of. I'll wear my bald head with pride (not to be prideful, but to show pride) for all those others who also have to go through this awful disease. Yes, I know I will have to also become partly vampire because chemo also doesn't like sunlight, so either I make it a shiny, bald head with sunscreen or I wear a big straw hat... I'll make that decision when the moment presents itself. We don't have a date that this will all begin, but it will be in the next two to three weeks. We have to meet the surgeon who will be putting the port in for the chemo, and the radiation guys who will give me a tattoo to mark the place they plan on aiming their radiation gun at. Finally, we'll get this show on the road and beat this disease. I'll probably miss some weather postings too, but will try not to.

Right now on Beaver Island it's 19°, with partly cloudy skies, wind is from the west, humidity is at 86%, pressure is steady at 30.18 inches, and visibility is 7 miles.
TODAY: Mostly sunny. Highs around 40°. Southwest winds at 10 mph shifting to the west with gusts to around 25 mph in the afternoon.
TONIGHT: Partly cloudy in the evening, then mostly cloudy with a 50% chance of snow showers after midngiht. Lows in the lower 30s. Southwest winds 5 to 15 mph with gusts to around 30 mph.

ON THIS DATE of April 10, 1879, Sandor Herz—the future John Hertz, the man behind what will one day be the world’s largest car-rental company—is born in present-day Slovakia.

Hertz immigrated to America with his family as a child and grew up in Chicago. In 1915, he founded the Yellow Cab Company in Chicago as a means of providing affordable transportation to average citizens. Yellow Cab franchises soon opened across the country. In 1923, Hertz bought a rental-car company from Walter Jacobs, who had founded the Chicago-based business in 1918 with a fleet of Ford Model Ts. Hertz renamed the business Hertz Drive-Ur-Self Corporation, and in 1926, it was acquired by General Motors (GM). John Hertz became a member of the board of directors of GM, which in the 1920s overtook Ford to become the world’s biggest automaker.

In 1932, the Hertz company opened its first car rental shop, at Chicago’s Midway Airport. In 1950, Hertz’s inaugural European facility debuted in France. Within five years after that, Hertz became the first rent-a-car business to open 1,000 locations throughout the world. John Hertz, who was also a philanthropist and raised thoroughbred horses, died at the age of 82 on October 8, 1961.

In 2002, Hertz became the first international car rental company to open for business in China. Other milestones in the company’s history include the 2006 rollout of the Green Collection of fuel-efficient, environmentally friendly vehicles. The following year, Hertz added the Toyota Prius, the world’s first mass-produced gas-electric hybrid vehicle to the collection. Also in 2007, Hertz began offering hourly car rentals in New York City and Boston. As of 2008, Hertz had some 8,100 locations in 147 countries worldwide. The company’s reservation centers deal with an estimated 40 million phone calls and 30 million reservations each year.

DID YOU KNOW THAT the original name of the University of Michigan, which was founded in 1817, was Catholepistemiad. Yeah, try chanting that at a football game.

WORD OF THE DAY: balladmonger (BAL-uhd-muhng-ger) which means 1) an inferior poet; 2) a seller of ballads. Shakespeare (1564-1616) is the first recorded author to use balladmonger, a compound noun that has nearly always had a belittling or depreciatory sense. Monger is a common Germanic word derived from Latin mangō, “a slave trader; a merchant who adorns or decorates inferior wares to make them look more attractive.” From the Old English period even until the 20th century, monger has had positive connotations, but beginning in the mid-16th century monger and its derivative compounds frequently have had a negative connotation. For example, ironmonger “a merchant or dealer in iron and hardware,” first recorded in the 12th century, is neutral, but Mark Twain’s coinage superstition-monger is certainly depreciatory. Balladmonger entered English in the late 16th century.