Now this image makes much more sense. Western civilization is once again safe.

I thought so. I knew this image wouldn't survive under critical light. It is reforming to the true image as I speak.

Hey, whoa there, cowboys! This is a joke, right? As everyone knows, cats are not dumb enough to take up cigarette smoking. Give me a break. This is a joke, right? Not only do my own cats not smoke, they give me severe looks of disapproval whenever I begin to burn one of my beloved cigars. It has gotten to the point where I cannot smoke in front of them anymore. They are right, of course. They usually are. That is why this image is pure fantasy and very silly.

Reform! Reform this image now!

And so the organic process begins, a process of nature, where the little specks collectively form their image of what life is really all about.

These free spirits who braved the elements deserve to be free. So let us liberate them from the prison-like bars of the grid and allow the little statistical dots to fly where they will.

Something different was in the air during this UML spotting cycle. Maybe it was the snow. Perhaps the economy and/or the price of gasoline. But vehicles with "UML" license plates were, for whatever reason, harder to find than usual.

The UMLs I did see were hardy souls, braving the dangerous roads. When I saw one them I'd salute and say out loud, "I salute you out loud, O fellow UML. May Fate protect you on your journey." 

But for some reason, none of them saluted me back. I don't get it. 

At any rate, here the UMLs I recorded in this chapter: 8, 26, 32, 65, 91, 199, 213, 216, 225, 312, 330, 340, 429, 466, 558, 575, 586. 626, 708, 716, 816, 827, 842, 844, 895, 970, 974.

They are recorded on this handy dandy grid. 

The nice thing about this exercise is the total free association thing, where a single line could have limitless interpretations and a wide variety of topics could be explored. I just sort of surrender to the cranial jet stream and let the image create itself. And the results are so spiritual and "Big Picture."

Well, maybe not.

The entire CIAGuy family used the mail (What's My Line?, StevenL, PO Box 390, McCleary, WA 98557) to send me some lines. Unfortunately, one of them was drawn with a light blue pencil, which doesn't reproduce too well here so I was unable to use it.

The following line was drawn, I suspect, in a deliberate attempt to drive me crazy. Obviously the work of a wiseguy cartoonist. But, I tried my best to make something out of it.

Nearly every Puget Sound town has gone through one or more hectic real estate booms. And when these occurred, of course, they occupied the entire minds of the populace. One of these booms was on in Olympia during the constitutional convention in 1889. The Portland Telegram of July 29, 1889 observes the craze in this pertinent dispatch:

"One of the Spokane Falls delegates reported that an Olympia minister had become so interested in the real estate boom in that city that he had opened the Bible in an absent-minded way and announced in a sermon that his text was found in 'Owing's Addition, Lot 2, Block 4.'"