SUMMERTIME

It is June fourth, 2016, and I have a fan blowing on me as I sit typing this.

It's cool, even as the indoor/outdoor thermometer resting near me says it isn't.

It seems early this year.

The Weather Gods tell me the average high temperature for this date is 83.

But in 1996, just 20 years ago, the mercury soared to 98.

We've topped that already today and the period of highest heat is still several hours away.

And the official beginning of summer is still 16 days into the future.

This is, after all, an era of much publicity about Global Warming.

It causes my mind to drift into the distant, murky past.

To period of time when an uncle had a cabin on tiny Camp Lake in Minnesota, near to the gigantic Mille Lacs Lake.

It was only about 100 miles north of his home in Minneapolis.

But it was a wonderland to a young boy from North Dakota when we would make our occasional visits there.

My aunt Alla had fixed up the interior to resemble a small lodge, with knotty pine walls and breakfast nook.

My brother and I and our cousins loved the lake.

Boyhood then was something like this*.

Yes, memories of those days long ago provide a spirit of cooling when the temperature scorches us here in sun-blessed Arizona.

*This picture doesn't come from my family. It was only borrowed from the World Wide Web to illustrate a memory.

FRIDAY FUNNIES

O.K., neighbors, put those garbage dumpsters back by your houses.

Monday was a holiday so the truck won't be around until tomorrow.

There.

I feel so much better.

With that out of the way, it's on to the Friday Funnies!

And there will ALWAYS be an Ireland, right?

(Oh, that's England?  Never mind.)

Thank you to the contributors among my Gentle Readers, have a specially splendid weekend and remember to always keep a little laughter in your heart.

Here, kitty-kitty.

(Uh-oh)

THROWBACK THURSDAY

Back in 1972, I was preparing to leave WIBC Radio in Indianapolis for an uncertain future in Phoenix.

One day in the newsroom as I stretched my very long legs I was joined by my young colleague, Tom Cochrun, (behind me) and the wizard of our associated FM radio station, WNAP.

That long-haired goofball was the legendary Cris Conner, also known on the air as Moto Groove.

Sorry about the exposure. The picture was an old Polaroid taken against a bright window behind us.

You will notice that Tom and I are properly clad in our neckties and striped shirts while Cris (one of the resident hippies from the station called The Buzzard) is in his much more comfortable tee shirt.

That may account for his big smile.

Tom and Cris have both been inducted into the Indiana Broadcasting Hall of Fame for their years in Indianapolis.

Good guys.  Good memories.

CHANGES IN LATITUDE, CHANGES IN ATTITUDE

The temperature rose to 92 degrees F. here today.

By Saturday, it's supposed to top out at 103 before skidding back into the 80's by the end of next week.

But it's not bad.

I was just sitting out on the patio at 85 degrees or so and there was a cooling breeze blowing and a relative humidity of around 11 per cent.

Contrast that with Key Largo, where my blogger friend Stephen, aka The Chubby Chatterbox, was recently with it's humidity of 100 per cent!

So, like they say, "it's a dry heat."

However.

Think of the poor citizens of Phoenix, just 80 to 90 miles from where I live.

On Saturday, the Weather Gods say their forecast high temperature will be 117 degrees Fahrenheit.

To those of you who live in a Centigrade/Celsius universe, that equates to around 47 degrees C.

And that, my friends, is hot.

Hot by any standard.

As hot as the open door of a blast furnace.

And it's only June.

But I was looking through some pictures from the home I grew up in, in North Dakota, today and I offer them as contrast.

And perhaps relief to my Phoenix friends.

Now granted, I exaggerate the contrast.

Judging from the wreath on the front door, this was sometime in December of a time long ago.

But still.

This is why I no longer live in North Dakota.

You don't have to shovel sunshine.

TUESDAY TRAVELS

I worked for a radio station in Indianapolis from 1969 to 1972.

I started in late April, just after my 29th birthday, and I had no idea what I was getting into.

The Indy 500 is always in late May, around the Memorial Day weekend, and the track is open for the entire month of May as race crews practice and fine tune their cars getting ready for Qualifying Day when only 33 drivers and cars will make the field.

My friend from North Dakota had gone to work at the same radio station about three months before me.

One day we went out to the track to watch the practice sessions.

With our media passes we were allowed to walk right out onto pit row.

So there is the blond-maned and bearded Orly Knutson, known on the radio as The Happy Norwegian.

And, as I have said before, that really was his name.

People often asked him if it was real and his response was always the same - "If I wanted to make up a name for the radio, do you think I'd pick something like Orly Knutson?"

Orly retired after 50 years on the radio in various markets.

MEMORIAL DAY

At the house with the red door

VULCAN'S LAIR

Within sight of my house!

"GOLDIE"

You're possibly wondering why I call this photo post "Goldie".

If you're old enough, it's really quite easy to figure out.

In 1969, this young actress was in a movie that earned her an Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress.

The actress is Goldie Hawn.

And the movie was "Cactus Flower".

And now you know the rest of the story.

(Oh, and for you younger Gentle Readers, she is the mother of actors Oliver Hudson, Wyatt Russell, and Kate Hudson.)

FRIDAY FUNNIES

Here we go again.

Get your chuckler ready.

And with that pleasant thought we will bid you adieu.

Contributors: thanks!

To everyone, enjoy the long weekend and always remember to keep laughing.

Here, kitty-kitty.

(awwwww)

THROWBACK THURSDAY

Many people I've met have had a favorite uncle, a sometimes mysterious, romantic character who seemed as if he came out of a novel.

Mine was my late uncle, Zenas Howland Taylor.

He was born in Faribault, Minnesota in 1899.

But he moved to California, probably in the 1920's and spent the rest of his life in San Francisco.

About his name.

He was named for an ancestor, Zenas Howland (actually there were two of them in that family tree) who was a direct descendant of John Howland of the Mayflower group.

Zeke, as my dad sometimes called him, was an accountant and eventually became the head accountant for San Francisco's Water Department.

For the youngsters who may be reading here, those devices in front of him were an adding machine, a forerunner to today's computers, and a dial telephone.

When the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor Zenas enlisted in the army (at age 42) and served in Burma and India.

Many in the family thought he was crazy to join the army at his age but he felt he had a patriotic duty.

His nickname in the army was "Pops".

He was a sergeant when he was discharged.

During his lifetime in San Francisco, Zenas joined the Olympic Club and won many medals in swimming competitions.

From what I've heard, he was also a pretty good handball player.

He was a bit of a "health nut", swimming in San Francisco Bay year round, hiking in Yosemite Park and worshipping the sun whenever he could.

He told me once that he used to spend 15 or 20 minutes sunning on top of the downtown Olympic Club during his noon lunch hours whenever the sky was clear.

But in his later years, perhaps dating back to his days in Burma and India, he also enjoyed a daquiri with his wife before dinner each evening.

He was 83 when he died.

WORDLESS WEDNESDAY

TUESDAY TRAVELS

When you're following one of these it's a good idea to keep your distance and have sharp awareness!

As I followed this student driver she seemed to be doing relatively well.

THE JAY CAME BACK!

Yes, my new-found friend, the Mountain Jay, came back a few minutes ago.

But this time he didn't want a drink.

He wanted a swim!

Oh, yes, he did!

And he dares any bird in the vicinity to try to share the pool while he's occupying it.

What a rascal.

WEARING HIS SUNDAY SUIT

A Mountain jay dropped in for a brief visit, showing off his colors.

Montana Mike says these are called Camp Robbers up in his part of the world.

MARIA

Away out here they've got a name

For rain and wind and fire

The rain is Tess,

The fire's Joe

And they call the wind Maria

That was the opening of a popular song by the Kingston Trio back in the 1960's.

Maria was pronounced not like the heroine of West Side Story - Mah-REE-ah, but as Mah-RIGH-ah.

Regardless of pronunciation, away out here where I live, Maria is a bitch.

I know.

I shouldn't complain.

And generally I don't.

After all, I am not plagued by hurricanes or earthquakes or ice storms or blizzards or tornadoes or (I am 80 miles from Phoenix and something over 4,000 feet higher) extreme heat or (I am 80 miles from Flagstaff and something over 2,000 feet lower) extreme cold.

But I do have wind.

Fierce, gusting wind.

The past couple of days there has been a High Wind Alert issued by the Weather Service for our area, with gusts of 50 miles per hour.

It's above 70 degrees and I sat out on the front porch for awhile this evening with a cool drink and watched the wind whipping the trees around.

It's supposed to die down some tomorrow.

Only 10 to 20 miles per hour.

Or more.

Don't trust the Weather Gods.

And don't sing me that damn song any more.

Unless you change the wind's name to Lucretia!

FRIDAY FUNNIES

When I lived in Mexico I used to frequently lose track of what day it was.

I would ask SWMBO "what day is this?"

She would laugh because the answer was always the same.

It was always Thursday.

I don't know why that was unless it was an omen about the day we now know as Throwback Thursday.

At any rate, today is Friday and you know what that means.

The FRIDAY FUNNIES!!!! (he shouted loudly)

I assume, and I can only assume, that you are laughing hysterically by now.

So I'll leave you on that happy note.

Thanks again to all of my contributors and theft victims, have a fantastically satisfying weekend and always remember to keep laughing.

Oh, and sorry I was late with these.

Here, kitty-kitty.

Ah-HAH!

THROWBACK THURSDAY

When I started working in television back in the early 1960's, it was an entirely different world.

At the third station I worked for, KFYR in Bismarck, North Dakota, the news department consisted of two people, plus an announcer or two and a couple of part-time photographers that we had to share with the sales department.

And we were supposed to provide for the needs of an AM radio station as well as the tv station.

Later an FM station was added to the mix.

So we "newsmen" were the voices of the many daily broadcasts, we wrote and produced the newscasts, we shot and edited the film, we covered meetings and events and the police stations and sheriff's departments.

But since we were in the state capitol, politics and government often made up the bulk of our work.

In this photo, I'm the film photographer in the middle of the group of three.

Our cameras are all focused on the governor, William L. "Bill" Guy, as he comes into the legislature to give his annual State of the State address.

I find it interesting that three "photographers" are using the same basic camera but we each have our own way of gripping the device.

In the upper right corner of this picture, my boss at the time, News Director Larry Mills, is doing a live broadcast on radio of the event.

The fellow with the headset sitting next to him was an engineer.

One other thing I learned in those early days was how to shoot film while walking backwards.

That's me on the far right with my camera focused on Vice-President Hubert H. Humphrey.

He's walking with the governor's wife while the governor, on the left,  is accompanying Mrs. Humphrey, Muriel.

In the center is U.S. Senator Quentin Burdick.

In some ways it was a much simpler era.

In others it was vastly more complicated.

THANKS FOR THE TUNES, GUY

Sad news today.

Guy Clark has died at 74.

The New York Times referred to him as a Texas Troubadour.

And that he was, coming out of the group that included Townes Van Zandt and Jerry Jeff Walker.

He wrote many songs that other artists made hits.

One of my favorites was "Desperados Waiting for a Train."

I first discovered Clark when I lived in Austin, Texas.

I never saw him perform but I would hear his music on the radio.

Guy had a sense of humor that was displayed, for example, in this song that has been performed by many artists.

Guy, we'll miss you but we'll have your music forever.