It’s the 80th anniversary of a bombing raid on Tokyo in which the American military killed 100,000 Japanese civilians in one night (Wokipedia). Did the Japanese attack on our military installations in Hawaii justify our attacks on their civilians?
University of Alaska in Fairbanks runs a beautiful museum and it answers the above question to some extent.
Right now, about one fifth of the core exhibit space at the Museum of the North is devoted to the victimization of 220 Japanese-Alaskans whom President Franklin Roosevelt ordered interned (with Supreme Court approval) and also the evacuation of 800 Native Alaskans from islands thought vulnerable to Japanese attack.
The PhD scholars explain on a sign leading into the exhibit that the Japanese were on track to conquer interior Alaska, western Canada, and Seattle:
If we hadn’t waged total war on this enemy, including killing 100,000 civilians in one night (pre-atomic bombs), folks in Seattle would to this day be forced to live a Japanese lifestyle. Certainly, it wouldn’t have made sense to engage in the settlement negotiations that the Japanese expected after Pearl Harbor.
What else goes on in the museum? First, visitors are reminded of the irrationality of W-2/1099 work in the American Welfare State (admission is $20 for chumps; free for EBT cardholders):
The PhDs in charge of the museum use native languages whenever possible (Troth Yeddha’ is apparently not, as I’d thought, a location of one of Jabba the Hutt’s branch offices) and also note that the noble indigenous themselves don’t want to use these languages anymore (consistent with John McWhorter’s explanation of how humans converge toward a single language in a media- and telecommunications-rich world)
Compare your level of patience and attention to detail to Cynthia Gibson’s, who sewed salmon vertebrae into a dress:
Last month, I spent 1.5 hours at Alaska ComiCon in Fairbanks, which isn’t quite the jam-packed experience of the San Diego Comic-Con, but included the world’s largest balloon costume (Godzilla, of course!):
My friends picked me up for the short drive to the Fountainhead Antique Auto Museum, which seems to be indirectly named for Ayn Rand, ironically famous for not having learned to drive despite living for a time in Los Angeles. (The connection seems to be that Tim Cerny, a real estate developer, liked Rand’s novel The Fountainhead and named his company after her and then the museum is named for the company.)
Despite the founder’s apparent free market orientation, the museum has an Elizabeth Warren section:
My favorite car was the Owen Magnetic, spiritual heir to the Chevrolet Volt, in which the internal combustion engine is a generator. It even had regen braking:
Here’s a 1932 Cadillac…
After 90 years of evolution, the ugly duckling 1932 Cadillac was transformed into the beautiful Escalade:
Americans 110 years ago hadn’t discovered the joys of helicopter parenting and, therefore, brothers aged 10 and 6 were able to ride on horses from Oklahoma to the East Coast, buy a car and learn to drive in NYC, and then drive back to Oklahoma (the horses went home by train). They met two presidents and both Wright brothers:
State-sponsored PBS did a show about them (I recently learned about this from a Facebook friend; it aired in April 2020, just as coronapanic was in full swing, but it is tough to imagine a lockdown strict enough that I would have the patience to watch PBS).
The museum covers the challenge of building a practical snowmobile, which didn’t happen until airplanes were into their second generation (most of the invention seems to have occurred first in Russia; Wokipedia).
I knew that Carl Fisher, the creator of Miami Beach and the Indy 500, had developed a gas-based “Prest-O-Lite” headlight, but didn’t realize that it involved a tank of acetylene right next to the driver!
For fans of the old Bell 47 and Hiller helicopters… the Franklin company that made their engines was produced cars with air-cooled engines back in 1905:
The Iditarod starts at 3 pm Eastern today. As has happened 3 times before (2003, 2015, and 2017), the sled dog race begins in Fairbanks rather than near Anchorage. This is due to a lack of snow.
As we all get set up to watch the puppies run, here are some tips on traveling to Fairbanks, Alaska, one of the world’s best places for seeing the Northern Lights due to (1) reasonably clear skies, (2) reasonably easy travel, and (3) perfect latitude (coincides with peak aurora activity).
A tour operator says that April 11-20 is the best time to see the aurora because it is the driest period and also close to an equinox, which is typically a peak for activity. 2025 is right near the peak of solar activity (on an 11-year circle) so maybe April 2025 is the time to go! (I went Feb 20-27, 2025, which coincided with the World Ice Art Championships that was a nice bonus, but it probably would have been better to go in April so as not to suffer as much from the cold!)
Except in the summer, you’ll probably have to fly through Seattle. Unless you live in Seattle, Delta Airlines might be a better choice for the total trip than Alaska Airlines because Delta has more overall network capacity to recover from a staffing or maintenance issue.
Spend the first day at the University of Alaska Fairbanks’s Museum of the North and watch the movie about the aurora ($20 if you’re foolish enough to work; free if you show your EBT card). Stop by the Morris Thompson Cultural and Visitors Center in downtown and pick up a guide to aurora viewing that includes a map of good locations. Inside the visitors center try to refrain from shouting out “Like Jeffrey Epstein, that Piper PA-22 didn’t hang itself”.
My Lyft driver (Uber pays a lower percentage of the revenue to drivers and is, therefore, so disfavored by drivers in Fairbanks that Lyft is the only service available in winter), who was also an aurora tour operator, explained that moisture/clouds tend to hang over the city but that as soon as you get to the first ridge going north the weather tends to clear. This also has the advantage of getting you away from the city’s light pollution. We had great luck at the Cleary Summer, about 30 minutes from downtown:
There are some cabins with skylights to rent right there, The Overlook at Cleary Summit, and that might be the smarter way to do a trip (watch the aurora while lying in bed; splurge by also renting a hotel room in downtown Fairbanks and bouncing back and forth depending on weather and desire to be close to restaurants and museums). Some friends organized a trip based at Pike’s Waterfront Lodge, which is right next to the end of the big runway at Fairbanks International Airport! The Overlook has Starlink Internet that should be better than what we had at Pike’s Lodge (Alaska is plagued by a telephone/Internet monopoly (“GCI”) that will make you take back all of the bad things that you said about Xfinity, AT&T, and Verizon). Getting up the hill to Cleary Summit wasn’t too challenging. We had a full-size van from Avis with studded tires. A regular AWD SUV with good winter tires would have worked as well.
Our first night of aurora viewing wasn’t that exciting. We drove 30 minutes up to a turnout on the Elliott Highway. With our naked eyes we saw what looked like white-gray thin vertical clouds. Photographed with an iPhone 16 Pro Max steadied via Ulanzi/Gitzo, however, a spectrum of colors emerged (exposures of about 5 seconds on the left and 30 seconds on the right; it probably would have been smarter to download and use Halide or a similar “pro camera” app that would have allowed more bracketing):
On the second night, we went to Cleary Summit (a big parking lot with the challenge of retaining one’s night vision as cars came and went with headlights on):
About 15 minutes later (pretty much fully automatic, with the iPhone choosing to expose for 5 seconds):
We never did see the red/pink colors in the above photos with our eyes, but we did see green, albeit not as saturated as in the above photos. Our hotel had an aurora chaser’s movie on permanent repeat in its library. The filmmaker gets very excited when he can see red with his naked eye and points out that he hadn’t seen that color for years. Unless a scene is bright you’re going to see it with your rods, which are monochrome, rather than your cones. The most common aurora frequency is green and our visual systems are very sensitive to green, which means you have a decent chance of seeing green. Partly because nobody has built a camera that works like the human visual system at night, the aurora industry is based largely on fraud. Here, for example, is a tour operator’s example of what you’ll see after paying $9000+ for two people:
Maybe an Alaska resident does occasionally see something like this, but a tourist is unlikely to see a color other than white or green on a one-week tour. Two perspectives:
“the Northern Lights are one of the few things that look better in a photo than in real life”
“looking at pictures of the Northern Lights before going on a trip is like watching porn movies to figure out what married sex after 10 years will be like”
The tradition of overselling the lights goes back at least to 1865 when Frederic Edwin Church painted the following (based on sketches and descriptions from Isaac I. Hayes, who did not sing but who spent years in the high Arctic):
If you are going to visit in the winter pack as though you were going ice fishing. I thought that I’d be okay with clothing that I wore for walking a dog in Maskachusetts in 10F temps. The temperature north of Fairbanks was closer to 0F, however, and watching the aurora involves minimal movement. Wool socks and insulated snow boots were useless on the first night so I stopped at Prospector Outfitters and got battery-powered socks for the second night. Felt boots such as Sorel or Baffin would have been a smarter choice (I had Sorels back in the Boston area, but I left them in the garage and squirrels used them as a house/outhouse). Electrically heated gloves would be the smart way to go for finger comfort. I was using an Apple Watch as a remote trigger (to minimize camera shake) for the iPhone camera and I don’t think that could have been done without exposing bare fingers for every photo. Maybe a remote shutter release with a physical button would have been usable with gloves kept on.
Would I go again? Sure, but I would want to have some kind of anchor activity in Fairbanks, either seeing friends or doing an exercise program or taking a class or something. Alternatives include Iceland, but it is surrounded by water and, therefore, seems likely to be much cloudier than Fairbanks. Arctic Norway (e.g., Tromsø) is a possibility, but it might be more challenging to travel to for an American and probably more expensive (Fairbanks has a McDonald’s, a Walmart, gasoline at just over $3/gallon, etc.). I would go back for the experience, not to try to compete for best picture with the people who live in the Arctic and are likely to be there on the 20 best nights of the past 10 years.
Crash course in Aurora #Science from Pike’s Lodge:
Trey Parker and Matt Stone, the creators of South Park, grew up in Denver. When Casa Bonita, their favorite childhood restaurant, went bankrupt during the coronapanic lockdowns, they bought it and spent a rumored $40 million restoring it to its former glory. It’s tough to get a reservation so book as soon as you think you might be going to Denver!
Your visit to Mexico begins in a downscale strip mall (Dollar Tree) in Lakewood, a downscale part of the Denver metro area:
There are a variety of theme park-style environments that have been created inside. Here’s a village that houses the restaurant’s museum, for example:
You eat first and then wander. The $6.75 combination plate offered below is a pre-Biden price. Today it is $30 at lunch or $40 at dinner for one of about 9 choices. You won’t be introduced to the subtleties of regional Mexican cuisine, which has resulted in some people complaining about the price, but it does include soft drinks, dessert, and a 15 percent tip. It wouldn’t be easy to get out of Five Guys for much less.
After the meal, one can take in the Acapulco diving show:
They also have live musicians in various locations, a puppet show, a magic show, free face painting, balloon sculptures, etc. It would be easy to spend another 1.5 hours after the meal here. My one complain is that the arcade doesn’t include a South Park pinball machine (2,200 were made; Sega is a predecessor to Stern so the South Park guys could probably persuade Stern to do an updated version).
A few photos:
There are cave and mine sections for dining, but the premium seats are around the cliff diving lagoon:
Inside the cave…
It’s an experience, for sure, and I’m grateful to the South Park guys for preserving and revitalizing it. I wish that more restaurants were like this, but the cost of paying live performers is just going to go higher as health care costs inflate.
I made it to the USAF Academy in Colorado Springs last month. It’s home to just over 4,000 students, hardly any of whom learn to fly while there. The school has about 20 Cirrus SR2x piston-powered aircraft and some gliders. This fleet enables the typical cadet to take between 4 and 14 flights during the four-year program. The good news is that the academy has its own airport: KAFF. The bad news from the chart is a 4500′ runway 6576′ above sea level. A Cirrus SR20 with two average American guys on board and two hours of fuel would be lucky to clear a crush-proof cigarette package after a 4500′ ground roll in the summer (note that the big airport there has a 13,500′ lighted runway (“L 135”).
They’re building a new visitor center, but it isn’t ready yet. The old visitor center is named for Barry Goldwater, best known for losing the 1964 Presidential election to Lyndon Johnson. Goldwater was also, however, a pilot for the U.S. in World War II and, as a senator, promoted the idea of the Air Force Academy for the then-new standalone branch of the military, from which he retired as a Reserves Major General. (af.mil bio)
(Just for fun, let’s compare Goldwater’s politics to today’s United States. Goldwater wanted people of different skin colors to be treated equally; today’s Air Force Academy, like the U.S. Naval Academy, has a race-based admissions system (NYT). Goldwater objected to Eisenhower’s $72 billion budget for being too large; today’s federal budget is approximately $7 trillion per year, 100X that objectionable number. Goldwater suggested, in a July 2, 1967 NYT opinion piece (below), that Israel keep all of the land it had conquered in the six days of fighting in June 1967; half of Americans today are marching with the Queers for Palestine. Goldwater’s name will be expunged from the new visitor center in favor of a former academy director’s.)
The visitor center contains a somber reminder that sometimes the enemy wins or training flights don’t go as planned. Each white rectangle below represents a graduate whose life was lost while serving in the Air Force:
Bizarrely, in a world where my friends’ kids can’t get in anywhere, only about half of the cadets were in the top 10 percent of their high school class:
The Academy discriminates against those who are married and those who are over 23 (both would be illegal for a private college? certainly for an employer, right?):
Cadets are protected from streaming and other distractions by not being able to own any distractions:
In the gift shop, Nike’s logo appears right next to one of America’s most savage weapons, the AC-130. Nike is fully committed to diversity, equity, and inclusion (nike.com) and also happy when diverse people are equitable massacred by 105mm shells and 25mm Gatling gun rounds from an unseen aerial foe.
The cadets had all gone home for the winter break (at least 3 weeks) and the famous chapel was being renovated, but the Academy offers a planetarium show to visitors and one can walk around statutes of various USAF greats.
Here’s Hap Arnold, who commanded the WWII predecessor to the USAF. He was a huge enthusiast for strategic bombing of Germany and Japan and is quoted in The Man from the Future: The Visionary Ideas of John von Neumann as saying that he wished he had vastly more destructive bombs to drop on the Germans and Japanese (which, of course, he eventually did get, partially thanks to von Neumann).
Gabby Gabreski, who fought in combat during both WWII and the Korean War, and Paul Jennings Weaver, who was killed in Iraq War I while flying an AC-130, are examples of commemorated men:
Women get an award for showing up and ferrying aircraft around the Continental U.S.
On the drive back toward Colorado Springs there is an overlook for the the Academy’s airport with some signs explaining the flying and parachuting programs:
Today the Federal Reserve technocrats depressed investors by saying that interest rates won’t be lowered all that much in 2025 (unsaid: Congress won’t put down the deficit spending crack pipe and, thus, inflation is inevitable). Mary C. Daly, last seen addressing the diversity crisis at the San Francisco Fed and ensuring the stability and longevity of Silicon Valley Bank, voted with the rest of the governors to cut interest rates by 0.25%. The lone dissenter to the cut was from the Rust Belt: Beth M. Hammack, head of the Cleveland Fed (formerly at Goldman). Let’s follow Ms. Hammack going forward and see if she’s right about the inflation that the government and media assure us does not exist.
(A friend asked why the stock market was down today. She’s a physician and had interpreted the news from the Fed meeting as a prediction that the U.S. economy was going into a slump. My response: “Fed said it would have to keep interest rates high. Congress wont stop deficit spending. So the only way to tame inflation is high rates, which means stocks need high yields to compete w bonds. If a stock pays a fixed dividend it can only generate a higher yield by falling in price. Remember if you can buy a bond yielding 6% you need to buy a stock at a price where you’re sure you’ll get at least 8% return.” Curiously, the Wall Street Journal had a headline about the Dow Industrials (below) rather than the S&P 500.)
Speaking of non-existent inflation, I went to a museum today in Colorado Springs. It is inside a massive 1903 courthouse that is three stories high with a clock tower reaching skyward beyond. The volunteer at the front desk told me that it cost $420,000 to build.
It was replaced in the 1970s by a monster-sized concrete “judicial center” across the street:
What was inside the museum? An art exhibition in which paintings from any artist with a connection to the region were welcome… so long as the artist identified as “female”:
A reminder that SARS-CoV-2 was not the first pathogen to realize what fat targets humans living in cities presented…. (Colorado Springs was a cure destination for tuberculosis sufferers.)
The glorious history of test equipment… (HP had a division here making oscilloscopes, spun off and spun off and now “Keysight”)
It seems as though taxpayers got a good return on their $420,000 investment.
I finally made it to the Walt Disney Family Museum, smack in the center of San Francisco’s Presidio. Why is it in San Francisco when almost everything that Disney did was in Los Angeles or Orlando? Disney’s only child, Diane Disney Miller (mother of 7!), moved to the Bay Area in the 1980s.
I recommend that you have your Uber or Waymo drop you off at the top of Andy Goldsworthy’s Wood Line. You can then walk downhill through the Wood Line to the Yoda Fountain and from there it is an easy walk to the museum (arrive at the Wood Line about 40 minutes before your timed ticket to the museum).
Lucasfilm is headquartered in the Presidio and everyone is welcome to look at the Yoda fountain. Sadly, it is not inscribed “No, Try Not. Do or Do Not, There Is No Try.”
The museum is in the middle of the Parade Ground:
Getting into the museum costs $25 per adult or is free for those wise enough to refrain from work: an SF resident “receiving Medi-Cal and food assistance can redeem free general admission for themselves and up to three additional guests” (source). I got two free tickets via my Ringling Museum membership.
Back in the 11th century, it seems, Hughes d’Isigny and son Robert moved from France to England and that’s where d’Isigny was anglicized into Disney. The family moved to North America in 1834 (bouncing around Canada, Florida (Orange County, near today’s Walt Disney World), Chicago, and Missouri):
Disney was an ambulance driver in World War I and managed to refrain from writing a tedious novel about the experience:
Disney’s first animated movie company, whose techniques were informed by Animated Cartoons (E.G. Lutz) went bankrupt:
His second company, which featured Oswald the Lucky Rabbit, also essentially failed due to some badly drafted contracts with Universal Pictures, which took over the character. Walt Disney had to #persist through two business failures, essentially, before he could begin building the Mickey-based Disney that we know and love today. The museum does a great job of making it clear just how many false starts there were in what might seem like a steady inexorable rise to greatness.
Speaking of failures, both visitors and staff at the museum refused to accept the idea that simple masks had in any way failed to stop the spread of an aerosol respiratory virus (note also the spectacular autofocus failure of the iPhone 16 Pro Max just when I was relying on it to show that the young slender staffer chose to wear a mask while the older staffer did not):
Visitors are given a trigger warning, though it was unclear to me what the triggering content might be. Certainly, Song of the South clips were not played.
The trigger warning was repeated before a few signs that mentioned Squaw Valley Ski Resort, home of the 1960 Winter Olympics in which Disney provided some entertainment (in a victory for Native Americans, the resort was renamed Palisades Tahoe, thus removing all references to the existence of Native Americans other than the word “Tahoe” itself, which is a corruption of a Washo word for “lake”).
Nerds will appreciate the preserved multiplane camera, in which cels could be placed at different distances from the lens for more realistic perspective during camera motion.
What else is nearby? The Officers’ Club is now a free museum with a permanent exhibit devoted to the Native Americans who apparently won’t be getting any of their land back:
A temporary exhibit is up right now relating to the setting aside of the U.S. Constitution because politicians and bureaucrats declared an emergency and decided that it would be expedient to intern Japanese-Americans:
(Similar reasoning, of course, was applied in 2020 when the First Amendment right to assemble was tossed in favor of Science-dictated lockdowns.)
We didn’t leave by Waymo in an exciting rush of spinning LIDAR, but it would have been nice to!
Note Alcatraz in the background. If the U.S. government ever decides that it needs to reduce the amount of deficit spending/money printing that it does on the Cheat Our Way to Prosperity Plan maybe this island can be sold to a mid-level NVIDIA employee for $1 billion for use as a private home.
I spent Election Day-1 in Kissimmee, Florida, home to the Monument of States, which includes (I think) a rock from every state:
A closer look at some of the components:
If you’re going to watch election returns on TV and say to your friends, “A lot of these states are sending in a nominee who is as dumb as a rock” then this monument shows you the end result of each state sending a rock!
The definition of “state” seems flexible:
The folks who placed a time capsule here in 1993 for opening in 2043 didn’t factor in Science according to Democrats in the Northeast and California who say that all of Florida will be under water by then.
The city is officially at an elevation of 72′ above sea level so if the time capsule can’t be readily accessed there will be a lot of problems in Boston, New York City, and Washington, D.C. as well. It would be a shame if these murals were inundated:
The trip to Kissimmee was for aircraft maintenance and, therefore, I spent the whole day interacting with line guys, front desk gals, aircraft mechanics, and waitstaff. I sussed out that nearly all of these working class folks were Trump supporters. They believed that their standard of living had been reduced by Bidenflation and they didn’t want to compete for wages and apartment rent with another 10 million migrants. Democrats’ “tax the rich” promises did not appeal to them, despite the fact that they actually live the inequality that others only talk about. A line guy making $20/hour may be pumping Jet A into a $70 million Gulfstream. Why wouldn’t they be excited about a bigger government funded by taking stuff away from people whom they’ve met and who plainly don’t need it? It’s because they don’t expect to get any money or benefits from the government. Most of these folks earn too little to afford to have kids while maintaining what they consider to be a reasonably comfortable existence and, thus, they’re excluded from many of the most expensive government programs, such as public school and the various child tax credits. At the same time, they earn too much to qualify for the free housing, health care, food, and smartphone packages that recent migrants enjoy.
(The Census Bureau says that 32 percent of the people who live in Kissimmee are foreign-born and that over 70 percent of the residents are “Hispanic”.)
Returning to the election theme, it is understandable that an American might be passionate about who will spend nearly half of our GDP and who will decide whether teenagers get gender affirming surgery. But we shouldn’t let this interfere with our emotional connections to friends and family. I was sad to hear that a nonbinary progressive Democrat resident of Brooklyn found out that his conservative parents in an Upstate New York district voted Trump-Vance. He/she/ze/they said that he/she/ze/they is going to stop visiting their graves.
(Alternative from the same region: The cost of hosting migrants in New Jersey has been so high under the Biden-Harris administration that the Mafia had to lay off three judges.)
The leisure hours of a software expert witness at trial are few. I did find time to celebrate Hispanic Heritage Month by walking out of the war room and into Fort Worth’s Sundance Square for a September 21st event “Celebrating Hispanic Heritage Month with a vibrant showcase of lowriders and culture.” Here are some photos.
If you thought that the hydraulics on an Airbus A380 were complex…
Medium format never dies…
Elizabeth Warren’s family made it down to the event:
It would be nice if gold wheels were a factory option for the Honda Odyssey:
If a minivan isn’t sufficiently stylish, even with gold wheels, here’s what I think is an early 1950s Chevrolet Suburban (it seems smaller than today’s behemoths):
I reminded the person carrying this bag that “The Latinx do it better” was the correct modern form:
Some elegance:
Ideas for next time we have the Honda Odyssey repainted:
ChatGPT says that the correct expression for the situation below is “Mejor tu hermana en un prostíbulo que tu hermano en una Honda.”
Sundance Square during the event:
Later that night…
There’s an It’s Sugar store half a block away for dancers who get tired. They feature some Tim Walz gummi candies:
And some Kamala Harris/Joe Biden/Whoever Is Running the Country Peace for Our Time gummi candies for sharing with Iranian, Lebanese, and Palestinian friends:
Circling back to the subject of lowriders, is there another car culture that has been created by an ethnic group? We could perhaps say that minivans are the apotheosis of white American culture. Now that a substantial percentage of Haiti’s former population lives here in the U.S. has a distinctive Haitian car culture developed? How about an Arab-American car culture in Dearborn, Michigan?
I’ve spent a few weeks in downtown Fort Worth, Texas recently. It’s a lively city center with visual art, music, outdoor events in Sundance Square, restaurants, etc. The terrain is well-suited to cycling and there is a bike share system with reasonably good coverage for places that a visitor might want to go. The ethnic mix reasonably reflects recent immigration trends. Spanish is commonly spoken and there are usually at least a few Arabic speakers out and about (the women covered in hijabs, at least). I’m not fitting in that well due to (a) lack of cowboy hat, and (b) saying “hello” to folks encountered while out walking (a sign of mental illness in any true city, but standard practice in our corner of Florida (pedestrians and drivers wave to each other in Abacoa, Jupiter as well if any kind of eye contact is made)).
Texas seems to be home, so to speak, to plenty of homeless people. Nothing like the zombie army you’d find in a California city, of course, but a shocking prevalence compared to suburban or small town Florida. I had remarked on this a few years ago to an Uber driver in Austin, Texas. He was from Afghanistan and I asked him what the situation in Kabul was. He explained that nobody was homeless in Afghanistan because relatives would take in and care for anyone who couldn’t take care of himself.
Outdoor maskers are uncommon in Fort Worth. It’s nothing like my recent stay in Sherman Oaks, California, where I needed to walk only 1 block from my hotel to meet an outdoor masker. However, 100 percent of the outdoor maskers that I’ve encountered in Fort Worth seem to be unhoused (formerly known as “homeless”). I don’t remember seeing unhoused people, even in California, wearing surgical masks prior to coronapanic. Why are the unhoused more enthusiastic today about the protective possibilities of a surgical mask than the general population is? (To be sure, only a small minority of the unhoused in Fort Worth wear masks.)
