Not sure if you’ve heard, but the great ocean liner of news has hit the narrows of late. Layoffs, buyouts, retirements and “career transitions” have hit the industry hard. These are the times that try men’s ink-stained souls.

That said, you can sit around moping. Which explains Flapjack Friday.

I experimented a little last year to see what you could accomplish in the workplace with a few tabletop appliances. One of my purchases was a portable Presto griddle that I bought at a large retail chain that rhymes with “All Art” but which shall remain nameless. It was a $19.99 impulse buy, people.

Anyway, I saw that with very little expense and effort, the smell of breakfast cooking in an office setting could promote actual amounts of human joy. People dig breakfast food. Go figure.

So, with things relatively gloomy as friends depart for new adventures and challenges, I thought I’d bring back the idea.

Worked like a charm.

Before I knew it, I had co-workers swarming for the service line.

Didn’t hurt that there was delicious pork product at the end of that journey.

Seriously, people. This is how easy it is to spread mirth. People across the newsroom were complaining commenting on the rampant smell of bacon.

When asked what the occasion was, I said that it was because Carl Crawford of the Tampa Bay Devil Rays hit a grand slam home run in the seventh inning to help the Rays sweep a three-game series from the Chicago Cubs.

Denny’s has it’s Grand Slam breakfast. Now, so do we.