Chapter 32: The News of 90 Years

Putting down the map, Henry said: "I hope to get a share of everything. But that last one? It's all luck, isn't it?"

The fat waitress glanced up and down at Henry, teasingly saying: "Don't worry—given your assets, you'd be welcome even in the Northern Holy Valley."

The San Fernando Valley, besides being a tourist attraction, is most famous for housing over three hundred pornographic film production companies.

In self-deprecation, Henry replied to the waitress's light retort: "I hope I don't sink that low anytime soon."

Without delay, he rolled the bacon strip with his fork, then shoved it whole into his mouth without cutting it. Chewing, he gave a thumbs-up: "Mmm, delicious."

The fat waitress puffed up slightly and said: "Take your time eating."

Henry picked up his knife and sliced the sausage into pieces. He had no intention of performing a stunt of swallowing a whole sausage—choking to death was minor; being thought fit to star in a film in the Holy Valley was not. Better to be elegant.

His praise for the bacon's flavor wasn't empty flattery—it truly was delicious.

He'd chosen this family restaurant deliberately. Now it seemed his trained super-sensitive sense of smell was still reliable.

After cutting everything up, Henry ate with his fork while reading the newspaper. He'd memorized every detail of the map; keeping it on hand for reference was enough.

The newspaper's front-page headline claimed the red empire near the polar circle was about to collapse, with convincing rhetoric.

But at this stage, the Americans were probably just trying to scaremonger and steer public opinion. They likely hadn't imagined that mere words could actually topple a powerful nation.

Flipping through the paper, other sections were filled with Christmas-related news: where events were being held, where donations were accepted, where aid could be claimed, which celebrities had made public statements—nothing but nonsense.

Henry paid a little extra attention to the entertainment and sports sections.

The NBA regular season runs from October to April, followed by playoffs ending in the championship in June.

The report showed Michael Jordan leading the Bulls to dominate the league. In memory, 1991 would mark the beginning of the Bulls' dynasty. Throughout the 1990s, the entire NBA trembled under the rule of the Black Jesus.

As for Major League Baseball, the season runs roughly from April to October; now it's the offseason after the World Series, a time for rest and training. So there wasn't much news in the paper.

Between the NBA and MLB, they perfectly filled the entire year's sports entertainment needs.

But what Americans truly loved was the NFL—American football. The preseason began in August, the regular season in September, culminating in the Super Bowl championship in February.

Unlike basketball and baseball, which could break out globally and attract international players to American professional leagues, American football was more like a game Americans played behind closed doors, just for themselves.

In film, this Christmas season was the peak period—the most intense time for Golden Globe and Oscar competition.

Harvey Weinstein hadn't yet seized control of Hollywood's awards, so smear campaigns hadn't flooded the pages yet.

This year had many buzzworthy films: the standout "Dances with Wolves," the romantic milestone "Ghost," "Pretty Woman," the classic comedy "Home Alone," and various sequels to famous works.

Such as "The Godfather Part III," "Back to the Future Part III," "Texas Chainsaw Massacre Part 3," "Gremlins 2," the horror film "The Exorcist III," and more.

Henry even noticed a film titled "Captain America." Its rewritten plot depicted a Captain America who didn't die in WWII rescuing the U. S. president from a crime family that hated environmental policies.

In a world where Captain America truly existed, Hollywood still dared to fabricate such a story, treating it like a biopic and mocking him. It wasn't that they didn't care about Captain America… oh, he had no heirs—rather, they didn't care about the U. S. military.

Yet since the 1986 hit "Top Gun" sparked a surge in Navy enlistments, the U. S. military and Hollywood had been cozy partners, colluding together.

If Captain America stepped in to save the president, could the military possibly object?

Surprisingly, perhaps because Captain America truly existed in this world, this film didn't attract the usual backlash seen in typical superhero movies, where audiences grew disgusted by cheap, five-cent special effects.

Though he hadn't yet seen the 1990 American Captain film, from the newspaper's glowing reviews, it was clearly aiming to rival this year's blockbuster "Dances with Wolves."

Even Kevin Costner, Whoopi Goldberg, Francis Ford Coppola, Martin Scorsese, and other top actors and directors praised Captain America.

But most praised the WWII-era anti-fascist hero himself, offering little actual commentary on the film.

They knew well: you don't touch a tiger's ass. Captain America was gone, but the U. S. military still stood.

Even during the Vietnam War, the U. S. military's iconic recruitment poster "I WANT YOU" had switched from Uncle Sam to Captain America's image—proof of his deep, enduring influence, not just for one generation.

Then there were entertainment rumors, true or false.

As for next year's movie previews, there wasn't a single article. Perhaps everyone was focused on the Golden Globes and Oscars right now.

While he read, the cooked steak arrived, accompanied by a thoughtful side of fried potatoes. The bread brought earlier had already been finished.

Henry hacked the steak into chunks with his knife, then set it down and ate while reading, tossing all table manners out the window. This was a family restaurant, not a fancy one—no one cared about such things.

When he shoved the last bite of steak into his mouth, he'd finished the newspaper.

He refilled his coffee cup, then waved and asked: "Sweetheart, do you have the Yellow Pages here?"

The fat waitress pointed to the platform beneath the coin-operated phone by the door—there lay a thick telephone directory.

Henry walked over, brought the directory back to his seat, and began flipping through it.

In an era without the internet to search, if you wanted business information in a certain industry, you didn't go to a bar to ask the bartender or sneak into an alley to find a fixer.

You went straight for this thing called the "Yellow Pages"—an ancient search tool.

The Yellow Pages were usually provided free by phone companies, with advertisements as their revenue source. Even without ads, just the company names often revealed what they did.

It even listed private phone numbers, indexed alphabetically.

In twenty years, someone would sue them to death for "data leakage."

But in this era, it was perfectly normal.

Of course, the Yellow Pages weren't updated frequently—essentially once a year.

New book seeking follows, collections, recommendations, thank you~~

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(End of Chapter)