WELL SHOD . . AND FRIDAY FUNNIES

In yesterday's post I told you about a noontime free concert my lovely spouse and I attended at the Mesa Arts Center.  But the excellent music wasn't the only thing I noticed.  There were quite a few ladies there wearing quite sporty footwear.  Like these.

But as I learned and you are soon to, the principle featured pair of shoes were these very high heels worn by Shawn Lawson.

Ms. Lawson, it turns out, is the Volunteers/Festivals Director for MCA.  And she has quite a story to tell.

These free noon concerts draw quite a crowd, you see, many of them senior gentlemen like myself.  And it turns out they have quite an eye for high heels and what it does for a lady's legs.  Shawn has an affinity for heels and soon, she told me, the men were taking notice and wondering what shoe she would wear each week.  And they gave her a nickname.  Spike!

She said now they're hurrying their wives along saying, "C'mon, let's go, we have to see what Spike is wearing this week!"

Ms. Lawson said this has given her one more thing to think about each week - which shoe to wear for the noon-time concert.  After all, there are all those Observant Old Men waiting anxiously.

That sounds a bit better than Dirty Old Men, doesn't it?

So . . . on to the Friday Funnies.

My friend, Diane, sent me a collection of photos of which I have chosen a handful of Cats That Are Not Good at Hide and Seek.

And a cartoon that may not be so funny after all.

And finally something else to ponder.

Keep smilin', folks, and have a great weekend!

OUT TO LUNCH

The Mesa Arts Center began its noontime fall concert series which it calls the Out to Lunch concerts today.  SWMBO (She Who Must Be Obeyed) and I drove over to see it.  The price was right.  It was free!

Today's entertainment was Latin jazz provided by Nuevo Nuance.

The Wells Fargo garden area provides a beautiful setting for the events.

Royal palms and mimosa trees work with the lines of the modernistic buildings and shade sails of the Arts Center.

Nuevo Nuance featured a percussionist on conga drums, an electric bass artist, a keyboard player, a man who doubled on violin (or fiddle) and also played a mean flugelhorn, and a long-time veteran of the Phoenix Symphony Orchestra who played flute and piccolo.

Here's a sample of what we heard.

Pretty neat, huh?  Or maybe muy bueno would be a better way to describe it.

THE NEIGHBORHOOD

I went out looking for inspiration yesterday.  

I didn't really find it.  But there were some changing colors in the trees, even here in the desert.

I know.

With all of these green lawns, it doesn't look much like a desert. Many areas and developments use what is called desert landscaping. Sand and rocks and gravel and cacti.  Low water usage.  It seems more reasonable to me.  

But not here.

This is what is called a golf course community.  The homes are all situated close to the golf course that forms the center of this patch of land.

It is beautiful and I'm told the water that keeps it so green is recycled some way so as not to use up the desert's weak supply.

Whenever I meet someone here they always ask "Do you golf?" After all, why else live in such a community.  And while I grew up in a tiny town in North Dakota with a 9-hole golf course and I learned to play there, I haven't had a club in my hand for more than 40 years now. Why is too long a story.  Maybe some other time.

We just landed in this community because we liked the area and the house.  And we have a large green yard that does seem to require a lot of water.  So we live quietly and happily here.

Except for our water bill!

ALOHA!

"The party's over, my friend."

The 2013 Luau party hosted by the BRD and her Beau Jack is over. I'm told it was attended by about 25 to 30 people and everyone had left for home by about 1 a.m.  

Here is the happy hostess with one of her friends.

Were you able to see it better you would note that the BRD is wearing a hat which features two palm trees with a hammock strung between them!  It was made by one of her guests.

The men, were attired in floral shirts for the occasion.  Here is Beau Jack (center) with two more of the guests.

I'm reminded of a trip SWMBO made back to the states from our home in Mexico back in 1988.  I was showing my brother and his family some pictures from South of the Border.  My nephew commented very seriously "It seems like there's a lot of facial hair down there!"

Yes there was.  In that, my first retirement, I think the freedom of escape from the normal work cycle in the Estado Unidos led many of we expatriates to abandon our razors.  Nowadays, beards and moustaches are more common up here.

But back to the BRD's party - their was way more than ample food and drink and everyone in her pictures has a big smile on their faces. It was pretty obvious that "a good time was had by all."

SUNDAY PSALM

ALL SOULS' DAY

Today is All Souls' Day in Hispanic culture . . . when graves are cleaned and decorated and, in some places, picnics, music and drinking occupy the people left behind.

Here are a couple of somewhat typical shrines or ofrendas (offerings) as displayed at the main library in Phoenix recently.

And so El Dia de los Muertos, (the Day of the Dead) comes to a close.

A HALLOWEEN ESCAPE . . . AND FRIDAY FUNNIES

So here's how I feel this morning.

Last night was our first Halloween in many years that we tried to ignore.  We went out to comida (early dinner) in the late afternoon, then returned home and turned out most of the lights to discourage trick-or-treaters.  That worked great for awhile.  Not once did our doorbell ring.

(Side comment: the worst thing about this strategy was that THERE IS NO LEFTOVER CANDY FOR ME IN THE HOUSE!!!  Whose idea was this anyway??!!!)

So I was walking down the hallway in the dark when I ran into a chair, making a loud crash followed by an unprintable yell from me.

A little later, walking down the same dark hallway but being more careful this time, I saw a red glow that came and went regularly from the front window of a house across the street.  Curious, I went and got my binoculars and tried to see the house through a narrow front window.  Too small.  So I opened the front door to step outside and saw something slip by me and dart outside.  BLACKWELL!

Now those of you who follow this blog regularly know that our Big Black Boy Cat is totally black except for a mostly-invisible smear of white on his belly.  You also know that he is an indoor cat who came to us some years ago as a feral lurker.  And you also know that he is a Damned Escape Artist!  He loves to dart out the door when one of his keepers is least expecting it and go out to explore the outdoors.

So there we are.  It's Halloween night.  Probably around 8 o'clock. Darker than sin outside and we're trying to lure a totally black cat back inside the house.  He crossed the street, meowing all the way as I kept saying "NO!" (which has worked before) and calling his name "Blackwell" (which probably struck fear into the hearts of our neighbors.)

I was barefoot so I went back into the house to don some sandals and notify SWMBO.  She muttered some vile epithet, also unprintable here, and came out to help in the effort.

Blackwell was staying fairly close, only venturing across the street a couple of times but staying out of reach.  Finally SWMBO suggested I open the garage door just a crack, enough for him to enter.  I did and we continued the pleading calls as the dark blur foraged the neighborhood.

Then he came up near the garage door but would not enter until a car came around the corner.  He darted inside and SWMBO and I tried to push the garage door down.  Unsuccessfully.  So I hurried around, went in the front door, out to the garage and asked SWMBO several times if he was still inside.  No answer.  Apparently she couldn't hear me.  So I took a deep breath and pushed the automatic garage door closer button.  The door closed but no sign of the blasted cat until I called his name.  Then he darted out from under the car and ran into the house.

Well!  That was 20 minutes of Halloween fun at our house.  SWMBO didn't speak to me much the rest of the night except to say she was very upset with me.  But she has recovered her humor this morning and came to my office to ask if Blackwell had apologized to me yet.

And so it goes.

That, by the way, is not one of our cats.  Nor is this next one, whose name is probably . . . Pussy.

Happy Friday, y'all.  I hope your Halloween night was better than mine.