PONIES

This past weekend was the time for not only the Fall Harvest Festival I told you about yesterday.

It was also when a Pony Only show was held just a short distance away.

For those of you not in the know, a Pony Only Show is where owners of the Ford Mustang automobile get to strut their stuff.

You're probably thinking "Are they all red?"

And though it is a popular hue, the answer is "no".

They come in all colors.

This "pretty in pink" model even had a "pony" posing under the hood!

The owner of this Shelby Mustang doesn't want his hood stolen.

Notice that heavy chain holding onto it?

Speaking of hoods . . . the promoters of this show encouraged Mustang owners to bring their cars in no matter the condition.

They said whether it runs or not, needs to be towed, hauled on a trailer, is in process of being restored or not . . whatever the condition, bring it in.

One owner apparently took that invitation seriously.

AUTUMN IS HERE!

Yes, Autumn is finally here.

So the temperature outside as I am writing this is 91 degrees here and 108 in Phoenix.

But I can assure you that Autumn has arrived.

How can I say that?

Because I looked in on Prescott Valley's official Harvest Festival yesterday.

These three stalwarts were viewing the flurry of activity at the town's Civic Center as the finishing touches were being put on the set-up for the Fall Festival.

Recorded music was blasting out over the grounds but equipment was being put in place and hooked up for the live music coming later in the day.

The police were putting on a bike rodeo, there were pony rides and a small train taking people around the grounds, a cornhole game had been set up and was attracting players, bounce houses were installed and active and delighted shrieks and screams were coming from the passengers in this whirling carnival ride.

And best of all for this reporter, there were a variety of food trucks!

This heart-adorned little girl seemed to be thinking, "Will he just hurry up and take his picture so I can get into that treat!!!"

Yes, my friends, ignore the temperatures.

Autumn is here!

DECISIONS, DECISIONS

 

Hmmmm, what shall I bake?

Suggestions?

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

I went to the library yesterday and picked out a book to read.

It's by Jane Austen and it's called "Sense and Sensibility".

But I haven't started reading it yet so today is saved.

Let's take a look at Nonsense and No Sensibility, shall we?

I know what you're thinking.

IT'S A TWO-FER!

That's right.

I have so many Trekkie memes in the Humor Bank that I was forced to start AND end with one this week.

Consider yourselves lucky.

Now let's see how you good people will start and end your weekends this time around.

Make it great, make it memorable, make it . . . . oh, not meh.

But whatever you do, don't forget to keep laughing!

Here kitty-kitty . . .

( . . . now who's mocking who? . . . )

THE LAST LEAF ON THE TREE

I had an email the other day from a long-ago colleague and friend in Phoenix.

He said after 45 years in Arizona, he's moving back to California to be closer to the children and grandchildren of he and his wife.

He pointed out that the two of them were now closer to 80 than 70 and all of their family lives there.

Well, I'm nearly halfway through my 84th year on the planet and I sympathized with him as I thought of all of the friends that I've lost in recent years.

The Old Gang is getting smaller every day, it seems.

All of this came up because of news of the death of Kris Kristofferson this past weekend.

He, along with Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings and Willy Nelson once formed a group they called The Highwaymen.

Now, only Willy is still alive.

And like Old Man River he just keeps on, still playing concerts and living his song "On The Road Again".

He's got another song out now and it seems prophetic, given Kristofferson's death.

Give it a listen.

By the way, I have to thank Gwyneth in faraway Scotland, known to readers of her "OOK" blog as "gz", for letting me know about this sad and sentimental song.

MONDAY MISCELLANY

 This past weekend was not particularly a good one for a lot of folks, particularly in North Carolina where Dana Bug and Dr. M live just east of where the worst happened around Asheville.

They escaped a direct hit but their electricity went out on Friday and isn't expected to be restored until next Friday!

Dr. M took this picture of one of his routes to check on his father.

No getting through that but the resourceful driver finally found a way to get where he was going and his dad was okay.

Those Carolina folk are gritty.

Over here I got a message from Tommy Terrific on the Left Coast.

He shared a photo of one of their cats lazing in the sun.

That's Hemingway, so named because of his huge six-toed paws, like the cats Ernest Hemingway had as pets in Key West.

SWMBO loves an orange or yellow cat so she enjoyed seeing him again.

Meanwhile, the music world lost a giant over the weekend.

Kris Kristofferson died at his home on Maui, where his friend Willy Nelson also has a home.

I communicated with my longtime photographer friend, Timmer, up in Colorado, and he reminded me that he had once shot a story on the third re-make of the movie "A Star Is Born".

This one starred Kristofferson and Barbra Streisand and Timmer still has the mug the movie crew gave him on that day.

So nothing much to report but it seems now like it was a busy weekend.

Here in still-hot Arizona I keep bangin' away at my Spanish lessons from Duolingo.

How was YOUR weekend?

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

Once again it is nearing the end of the week.

I hope yours has been eventful and possibly enervating.

That last word, "enervating" has been a term of endearment in my marriage ever since I jokingly used it incorrectly in a conversation with my wife.

Channeling Barbra Streisand, was I.

But in my attempt at dry humor SWMBO didn't get it and corrected me.

Time and time again.

And I, and then we, tee-heed and chuckled.

I don't know what any of that means but I had to say something to lead this off and tell you that this week The Friday Funnies have gone to the dogs.

You'll see what I mean.

So (woof-woof) dog lovers, there's your very special end of the week humor to launch you and all of us into the weekend.

Now I want you to have a wonderful time, full of fun and feasting.

But, please; no hot dogs, okay?

And always remember to keep laughing!

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

( . . . ah, yes . . . )

SUMMMMMMMMMMM-ER-TIME!

Wacky But Wise Wally, who lives down in the Valley of the Sun, sent me this today.

As we are nearing October, this certainly gives one something to think about.

"F", THE FIRST LETTER IN "FOUR"

Today marks the 128th anniversary of the birth of the American writer F. Scott Fitzgerald.

His full name was Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald and he was born in Saint Paul, Minnesota.

He published four novels in his lifetime but his third, "The Great Gatsby", is considered his masterpiece.

I was born 44 years after Fitzgerald in Stanley, North Dakota and was named Franklin Bruce Taylor.

My father's first name was Franklin but the family didn't want me to be known as "Junior" so they always called me by my middle name.

I attended Jamestown College (now known as the University of Jamestown) for a few years though I left without a diploma.

While there I entertained thoughts of becoming a writer myself and most likely because of the Fitzgerald influence began signing my name F. Bruce Taylor.

Here's the proof, on a personalized college mug I bought at the time and which I still own and now use as a container for bookmarks.

I never became the writer to compare with Fitzgerald.

But I was struck this morning by something that would drive numerologists mad.

I was born on April 24th, 1940, or 4-24-40 and because of that have always considered "4" to be my lucky number.

Then this morning I realized that I was born 44 years after Fitzgerald and he died at the age of 44.

As I'm writing this it's 2024 and I am 84 years old.

And I have hung onto that college mug for 64 years.

Now is that enough 4's for you?

Lucky number or not, I'm still waiting for it to pay off.

So happy birthday, F. Scott Fitzgerald.

Oh, and by the way, I named my late son "Scott".

HAPPY AUTUMN

It has finally arrived.

Today is the Autumnal Equinox.

As we say here in the United States of America, the first  day of Fall.

And though it looks like just about anywhere in my state or country, this picture was actually taken in Poland, by Lukasz Szmigiel, posted to Unsplash, a free photo sharing site.

So I guess we should be saying Szczęśliwej jesieni, instead of Happy Autumn.

Don't even think about asking me how to pronounce that!

At any rate, here in the Northern Hemisphere it's a time of pumpkin patches and cooler weather and a soft light filtered through the trees.

May your autumn, or springtime down below the Equator, be a fine one.

Mine began with a bit of sad news as I learned this morning of the death of Al McCoy, who broadcast the Phoenix Suns basketball games for 51 years.

Al was not only a legend in Phoenix but a Hall of Fame broadcaster known and respected throughout the National Basketball Association.

I wrote about knowing Al sometime back but I could not find the post.

But I remember one rather "wet" night when I found myself with Al and the late Ted Brown after a holiday party at Camelback Inn or Mountain Shadows resort in Greater Phoenix and we three found ourselves at another resort where there was a piano in the lobby.

Al sat down at the keyboard and that was when I learned that he was a talented jazz pianist.

And there was another time in Sedona when Judy and I were wandering through an art fair when I either spotted Al or heard his well-known voice and he greeted us like old friends.

Always the gentleman, he chatted with us as if he had nothing better to do even though I hadn't seen him in years.

He will be missed by many who listened to his broadcasts as well as we who knew and admired him.

Al McCoy was 91 years old.