An explanation is in order. Last week, there may have been some confusion around the fact that the coffee machine communicated with me. To be clear, the machine does not talk. She sends messages through a mounted menu screen. The screen also has a touch pad, so no external mouse is needed. It wouldn’t be right to think that the machine has the human ability to speak. She has reasoning ability through her AI construct, which leads to her being able to ask questions. For example, today, she wondered if she should make coffee to go.

Declining the to-go cup and ordering the standard was the prelude to grabbing the clock. The time was set to March 1, 1925. The location is New York City and the duration is one hour. A pull of the plunger and we land in New York City. We are just in time to witness the founding of Viking Press.

The publisher Viking Press was founded in New York by Harold K. Guinzburg (formerly of Simon and Schuster) and George S. Oppenheimer, advertising manager for Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. The Viking Press is an American publishing company that specializes in bringing books to a wide audience. It was formerly known as Viking Penguin and Viking Books. The Penguin Group acquired the Viking Press in 1975. Today, Penguin Random House owns the Viking Press. 

After one glass of champagne, the alarm goes off and we find ourselves on the couch. There is a text from Linda Hill. It reads:

To see what others have done with the prompt visit Linda’s blog; here’s the link:  https://lindaghill.com/2025/02/28/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-march-1-2025/

Mouse by John W. Howell © 2024

“I guess visiting a publisher is interesting for your author readers.”

“You didn’t find it interesting?”

“Well, I would say no for one who can barely do a comic book a year.”

“Well, seeing such an established firm remain successful after 100 years was fun.”

“Maybe a cake and candles would be appropriate.”

“I think we can just let it go.”

“A good idea. No sense making a cat and mouse game out of it.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’re trying to defend visiting an author-centric place and trying to convince me that it is interesting.”

“Oh. I see. Yeah cat and mouse is not on the agenda today.”

“So what is?”

“A quiet place where we can relax.”

“That serves peanuts?”

“I suppose.”

“And has a shuffle board?”

“Yes.”

“Pool table and darts.”

“Very nice.”

“And has Voo Doo Ranger Imperials on ice?”

“Yup Order an Uber.”

“Already did. He’s over there.”

“I can’t believe it. We struck gold this time.”

“I thought you would be mad.”

“Oh, heck no. That van is from a beverage supplier.”

“Yeah so?”

“I’ll bet he has a few VooDoo Rangers in there.”

“Never thought of that. I just wanted cheap.”

“Looks like we have both worlds. Let’s go.”

 

 

 

 

Finally back to a normal schedule, it was good to see the coffee machine in person. She wanted to know where I had been. Rather than go through a long story, the simple answer was,”Out.” Never to be left in the dark the machine asked,”Where?” My response stopped the discussion right then and there, “Reproductive problems.”

Of course the reproduction mentioned was a book tour but the machine decided not to pursue the subject. My coffee was delivered hot and fragrant. One sip and my mind went to the clock. The setting is for February 21, 1925. The location is New York city, and the duration is one hour. A pull of the plunger and we find ourselves in the offices of the New Yorker at 25 West 45th Street in Manhattan. The staff is celebrating the first issue.

The New Yorker was founded by Harold Ross (1892–1951) and his wife Jane Grant (1892–1972), a New York Times reporter, and debuted on February 21, 1925. Ross wanted to create a sophisticated humor magazine that would be different from perceivably “corny” humor publications such as Judge, where he had worked, or the old Life. Ross partnered with entrepreneur Raoul H. Fleischmann (who founded the General Baking Company) to establish the F-R Publishing Company. Ross edited the magazine until his death in 1951. During the early, occasionally precarious years of its existence, the magazine prided itself on its cosmopolitan sophistication. Ross declared in a 1925 prospectus for the magazine: “It has announced that it is not edited for the old lady in Dubuque.”

Just as the Champaign was openede the alarm too me back to the couch. A text from Linda Hill has come in. It reads: Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “in person.” Use it any way you’d like. Have fun!

To see what others have done with the prompt visit Linda’s blog. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2025/02/21/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-feb-22-2025/

In Person by John W. Howell © 2025

“So you visited the offices of the New Yorker in person.”

“Nice job on nailing the prompt early.”

“Since you were gone, I thought about how to do that early in the discussion.”

“So we could concentrate on other matters I suppose.”

“How clever you are. How was the tour?”

“Terrific. All the volunteers did a fabulous job. There is one more stop on Wednesday the 26th but we are pretty much back to normal.”

“I missed out trips to the pub.”

“Yeah, Ill bet. Speaking of that did you manage to find someone else to go with you.”

“No. I stayed at home.”

“Doesn’t sound like you.”

“Well without you there is no reason to go.”

“Dear me. Okay let’s get going. Uber?”

“Right over there.”

“Now this looks appealing”

“Yeah, we get a couple of cheese steaks with the ride.”

“i don’t eat beef.”

“I know. You’ll have a cheese steak with no steak.”

“A toasted cheese then.”

“Yeah. You got it.”

“Okay let’s go.”

“You’ll enjoy it. I promise.”