Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

Some time back Ol’ Robbo was lamenting the fact that, although the fireflies were out in force at Port Swiller Manor, he still hadn’t seen bats wheedling about in the dusk. Whelp, we’re good now.

On the bat-food front, my new back porch bug-zapper, after great initial success, crapped out on me in that the fluorescent light went dark, and when I tried to fix it, broke under my hand. I’ve had to order another that specifically touts the replaceability of its light. Grrr.

On the Busman’s Holiday Front, Evening Entertainment Division, Ol’ Robbo has had from Netflix and been meaning to watch for some days now “1984” with John Hurt as Winston Smith. Yet, when I come to consider shoving it into the player, I realize that I’ve been monitoring this sort of thing in real time all day on the innerwebz, so why would I possibly want to see it again in fictional version?

Tonight, instead, I watched TCM’s airing of “The Spoilers” (1942), which I hadn’t seen before. Alaska Gold Rush. Randolph Scott and the young Duke Wayne beating the crap out of each other. Good times. And why fool with Marlene Dietrich when Margaret Lindsey is on deck? (Insider Baseball for the Ka-Boom and Valu-Rite friends of the decanter, if our late, lamented friend, Oregon Muse hadn’t made the latter a Who Dis? Girl, he otter have done.)

Anyhoo, there you are.