Postblogging Technology, May 1955: The One I Forgot To Post On Saturday!

R_.C_.,
The Lodge,
Campbell River, British Columbia,
Canada




Dear Father:

The election is well on over here and how I wish I was off the Spit casting my line, and I hate fishing. Of course, so do you, but it is good to see you out of Vancouver, if only to look at mining plays. You will see a great deal in this letter about how the inflation in Britain is due to prosperity and can only be fixed by wage restraint. That's the real fishing for what matters, which is votes. Britain will feel the hook this summer, but by then we'll be in Hawaii and San Francisco. Sorry, sceptred isle. You should have known better than to trust Rab Butler. 

And while you're looking at Canadian investments, don't be taking any magic radar stopping paint!


Your Loving Daughter,

Ronnie

Philco, Roger: A Technical Appendix to Postblogging Technology, April 1955

 

Not to be indelicate, but what the fuck happened? 

As Philco ("Philadelphia Electric Company") launches the marketing campaign for its Transac computer line in 1955, it was celebrating twenty-five straight years of leading the American radio industry by volume of sales. Curtiss-Wright, named for Glenn L. Curtiss and Orville Wright, started as a patent pool holding virtual monopoly rights over American aviation, from which foundations came a major aircraft company and one pole of the virtual duopoly of American aircraft engine manufacturing. The Douglas DC-7, currently winning the sales that will, it turns out, end the British airliner resurgence, is flying with four Wright R-3350 Turbo-Compounds, essentially demonstrating that, as far as long distance commercial flying goes in the mid-Fifties, there is basically just one alternative.

Today? There's still a Curtiss-Wright, sort of, but no engines, no computers. And it took barely five years. 

Phil Silvers, not Sergeant Bilko

Postblogging Technology, April 1955, II: Streaming and Peppermint Bombs

Fortune is going to get you Philistines into abstract art even if it takes another
25 years

R_.C_.,
Shaughnessy,
Vancouver,
Canada




Dear Father:

The much predicted election is upon us. I cannot see "my" side winning, but I have to confess to some trepidation about the nation's choice this time around that goes beyond the partisanship of us wooly-minded young progressives. Anthony Eden is not, quite frankly, in his right mind. I expect the cabinet to restrain him, but I am also worried that he will run right over the men I am depending upon. Rab Butler hasn't the strength of character to stand up to Eden, and MacMillan is too deferential. If Eden hits on some disastrous policy that appeals to the 1923 Committee types, what is there left? 

Or I could just relax and enjoy the optimism of this new Elizabethan Age. (Except, yikes, inflation!)

Your Loving Daughter,

Ronnie

Rural Crime Watch Area; Or, A Vacation Post for 2025

 

In a perfect world this would be a substantive post, as I left on my summer bike  trip last Wednesday and arrived home yesterday. On the other hand, I'm owned one short, breezy, on-the-road post. Owed, man. 

Anyway, my Dad died the winter before last of the slow and fading road to the west that my uncle is now following, removing the need to ride the Crowsnest to Grand Forks for my annual visit. I also accomplished my goal of riding (part) of the Okanagan last year, and was free to return to Highway 5A, "The  Old Princeton-Kamloops Highway," which I last rode, in part, as a youth so many years ago, full of all the silly follies of youth that seem so absurd when you are possessed of the follies of old age.