A NEW TOWN CELEBRATES ITS GROWTH

The town I live in, Prescott Valley, Arizona, is celebrating its 40th anniversary this weekend.

In 1978, the year it was incorporated, around 1,500 people lived here.

Now the population is around 45,000 and it is the 20th largest city in Arizona.

(The much older city of Prescott stands at 23rd.)

All of which is to say that the town is whooping it up this weekend.

The streets that run past the town's civic center have been blocked off and food trucks are in place.

Just a few steps away a classic car show is taking center stage.

A car I longed for before I was old enough to drive, a 1950 MG.

The rear of it sported a classy leather suitcase embossed with labels of where it might have traveled back in the day.

On down the street, cars in a myriad of bright colors.

A row of reds, anchored by a very rare Reatta.

Handmade by the Buick Motor Company, it only lasted a few years, due to vibration problems.

The owner of this one said there are a grand total of six members of the Reatta club in Arizona.

Here's one from my era - a '55 Chevy.

A classic and patriotic T-Bird.

The owner of this old buggy told me he was ordered to shave twice a day when he was in the army because of his quick-growing beard.

He said when he got out in 1957 he said "that's it" and he hadn't shaved since.

His lady told me it had been cut back from time to time because of danger from campfires and he said it had been down to his waist at one time or another.

The owner of this beautiful piece of work obviously has a sense of humor.

Check out the rear window.

There were some other indications of humor on display.

A hood "ornament".

That dog may be down to bones but he's still gripping his bone!

A California visitor showed off a shirt from an earlier car show.

Oh and there were at least a couple of what are known as "rat rods".

Nearby, the Theatre on the Green Main Stage was busily being wired for sound in preparation for two days of events and musical concerts.

The weekend includes an Antiques Roadshow style event, a free ice cream social, tribute bands, the largest fireworks show in Northern Arizona and much more.

This little town has come a long way from its earliest days.

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

One more day . . .

one more week . . .

 . . .of BREAKING NEWS!

Well, Gentle Readers, here's the REAL breaking news.

I think this week we will examine the medical profession.

Or, more aptly, medical practice.

I hope none of my doctors see this blog!

Let us all now canter capriciously into the weekend, taking a careful contemplation of the characters in our cacophonous company, avoiding all cardiovascular or cardiopulmonary actions and, above all, catheterizations.

In short, spend your time with comics and cats and more than anything, always remember to keep laughing!

Did I say cats?

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

Now, that cat is relaxed.

BACK HOME AGAIN . . .

All day the clouds have been humongous and wandering all around our area but not, I say NOT, dropping any rain on us.

And then this evening a little light mist began.

And then a bit later, I looked out and, lo and behold, the sidewalk in front was all wet.

And I went out and it WAS wet.

And cool.

And the view over the savannah-meadow-parkland-pasture was green, green, green.

And a small band of big black cattle were grazing just over the fence from the road.

And . . .

. . . the street sign said Roundup Drive.

It was just like being once more "back home again in Indiana."

Or, in my case, North Dakota.

Either one "states" my case.

LOOKING BACK

I thought I'd look back in my blogging history and see what I was doing.

One year ago, August 19th, 2017, I was getting ready to have my Pacemaker/Defibrillator replaced once again.

I got my original pacemaker on Cinco de Mayo (May 5th) in 2007.

A few weeks later it was replaced with a pacemaker/defib.

The battery on that one only lasted for 3 years so the device was replaced in 2010.

That one fared better so the one I got last year was actually my fourth and supposed to last 7 to 10 years.

I'm pleased to report that all went well on the 21st and like John Cameron Swayze (now who remembers him) used to say "it takes a licking but keeps on ticking."

He was actually talking about Timex watches but whatever.

A couple of years ago we were in the monsoon season and I was just trying to figure out how we could harness the power of that thunder and lightning when it came to me.

Five years ago, August 19, 2013, I was obsessed with cat pictures on the Internet when I was stopped to find this:

Finally, I went back 10 years ago and found out that in August of 2008 the nation was in election season and we were wondering who would be the new president in 70 days.

Would it be Arizona's own John McCain?

Or a somewhat newcomer with a strange name, Barack Obama of Illinois?

Guess you know how that turned out.

In this year of 2018, all I can say is thank you to medical science for the Pacemaker.

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

So, it's Friday, how you feeling about that?

Ah, well, okay.

While she's busy, for the rest of you Gentle Readers I shall present a montage of mirthfulness.

Hopefully.

So there you go.

I hope your funny bones have been titillated.

Now I want you to tear into this weekend with terrific tenacity but if you thirstily tope too much at the tavern, take a taxi home and arrive triumphant.

Oh, and always remember to keep on laughing!

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

(oh, not again)

A NEW ANTHEM

I must thank Mr. Y.P., also known as Mr. Pudding, from the blog Yorkshire Pudding for making me aware of Imelda May.

She is a wonderful Irish singer and a song she released last year may be the song of the ages for our New Age.

Here it is.

TOMATO, TOMAHTO.

People ask compulsive bloggers (like me, for instance) how they can keep on day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year, thumping away at our keyboards.

And more curiously, where do you get your ideas?

Some people travel widely in their home area armed with a camera.

I used to do that and I still occasionally sally forth looking for inspiration.

But in recent months I've become more and more of a hermit . . . well, not totally because SWMBO is here, too.

So the ideas pop up closer to home.

Like today, for example, from a grocery bag.

A bag from Trader Joe's.

As I was folding it up I noticed this on the bottom.

First that made me think of my Internet friend Tess Kincaid, now living in London but still a huge fan of, as she puts it, a puddle of ketchup.

Wait, isn't it catsup?

Fittingly, the Trader Joe's empire used a cat to explain.

And that led me to think of the old "you say tomato, I say tomahto" tune.

It was originated by George and Ira Gershwin for the 1937 movie Shall We Dance, featuring an amazing dance on roller skates by Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.

Take a listen and a look and, please, watch to the end.

Now do you see how my blog posts arrive?

RANTING

Allow me to rant a little.

It's about the Weather Gods and their lying blasted radar.

Here's a screen grab of what they say is over my area as I am writing this.

That big yellow blob is pretty heavy rain and the green areas are somewhat lesser rain.

Now if you look up at the top of that picture you may be able to make out the words Prescott Valley.

Here's a closer view.

Now I live just below that winding line at the top of this picture, which is a highway.

The radar says there's pretty heavy rain falling on me right now.

I didn't see any outside my window so I went out to see if my vision was failing me.

Here's my view to the south.

Here's my view to the north.

And here's my view straight up.

See any raindrops on my lens?

Me neither.

Grrrrrr.

I know.

I'm old.

And I'm starting to sound like the guy yelling "Hey!  You kids get offa my lawn!"

But Jeeze.

Can't I get a little honesty from the Weather Gods?

YUP, IT'S A MILLION SELLER

As I was semi-preparing our evening meal awhile ago I began to sing an old song from my childhood.

But I forgot a couple of lines so, as is my wont, I made them up.

(Just think the verse of "You Are My Sunshine".  If you're old enough.)

The other night, dear,

As I lay sleeping

I dreamt I held you in my arms.

But when I woke, dear,

I clutched my pillow,

And it sure doesn't have your charms.

Hello, Nashville.

I'm on my way.

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

I can remember the days when I could jump around like that.

I think.

Not about the jumping.

About the remembering.

Ah, yes, the good child.

You know who you are.

Well, Gentle Readers, it is time once again for me to bid you a beautiful, bountiful, benevolent, braggadocious weekend.

And never, ever forget to keep laughing.

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

(oh, man)

THE LAST GIRL STANDING

After many years of being owned by cats, we have decided that when our last one crosses the Rainbow Bridge, that will be all.

Here is our last one.

The lovable Muggles, in black and white.

She has always favored SWMBO but she's taken to my pettings in recent days.

And without Blackwell to chase her, she's venturing out into the house more often, instead of just holing up on or under Judy's bed.

It's coming a bit late in her life.

She's 15 years old now.

But, after going through a health scare a couple of years ago she now seems healthier than ever.

And she talks more, DEMANDING that I pet her whenever I come near.

She has a loud raspy voice these days.

But she's still as soft and lovable as ever.

THE MURALIZED FENCE (continued)

I know, I know.

You're just keeping your silence because you know how important that is to the artist.

F.Y.I., SWMBO, aka Judy.

When she began it was just to daub some paint on a decaying board fence in our backyard and make it a bit more pleasant to sit out there with a cocktail in the cool (ha!) of the evening.

But then it grew.

And grew.

And grew.

Therefore, here are the latest photos just taken.

There are more and more trees and, lo and behold, a bobwire (barbed wire) fence!

More trees, a more defined lake, brush, a ridgeline . . .

And what's that down in the far corner?

Is it . . . a . . . tree?

Why indeed it is.

You might say she just has an abundance of green paint.

But she's a Hoosier girl.

She loves trees.

But it's not done yet.

There's more to come.

Stay tuned.

NEW (to me) MUSIC

I am indebted to the Food Editor of the New York Times, Sam Sifton, for introducing me to these wonderful musicians.

JUPITER AND OKWESS

Click the link and enjoy.