DINNER OUT

We had a meal today at the Texas Roadhouse in Prescott.

Each table has a pail of peanuts in the shell.

We had a fairly small table so asked that they be removed after I'd had a few.

Also brought to the table, along with us, were fresh-baked yeast rolls with cinnamon butter.

Judy had fried catfish, one of her Hoosier upbringing favorites.

I had a 6 ounce choice sirloin which shrunk quite a bit during cooking.

But it was very tasty and quite enough.

I had steak fries with it instead of that baked potato.

Everything about our experience was great, from the food to the service to the prices.

Now here's the curious part.

The Texas Roadhouse restaurant chain was started in . . . . . wait for it . . . . . . Clarksville, Indiana, just across the Ohio River from Louisville, Kentucky.

And the guy who started it was from Colorado.

His name was Kent Taylor.

We share a last name.

But the chain now has around 450 restaurants in 49 U.S. states and a number of foreign locations.

Probably more than you wanted to know.

But their attention to quality makes the Texas Roadhouse a good meal out if you like traditional American food.

MLK DAY

I remember a tale from my checkered past.

It was in 1991 and I was making a first run from our home in Mexico to Austin, Texas, where we were moving.

We had friends who had preceded us by a couple of months and the man was telling me how to find their apartment.

He said, "You come north on I-35 and exit at the MLK."

I responded, "The MLK?"

He chuckled and said that was what the locals called the Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard.

I spent around 30 years as a broadcast journalist and the most articulate speaker I ever heard was Dr. Martin Luther King, Junior, delivering a talk without notes.

Today is his day, may he rest in peace.

MY FAVORITE VIKING

His name is Orly Knutson.

Orly is short for Orland.

It's the name he was born with.

As a legendary disc jockey of 50 years on the radio, he used to get the same question: is that your real name?

He always said the same thing: If I was going to pick a name to use on the radio, do you think I would have picked Orly Knutson?

He also went by the monicker The Happy Norwegian.

Orly was a sunny guy on the radio.

He also had a long career off-air as a drummer in various bands in North Dakota and Indiana and, for all I know, in Minnesota too.

In spite of his retirement residence in Indiana, though, he has never forgotten his roots in North Dakota, where the nearest professional football team happens to be the Minnesota Vikings.

Really.

You think he's forgotten the Vikes?

This is a recent picture of Orly and I suspect tonight he not only has that gear on he's also wearing a great big smile after his team's amazing victory.

FORGIVE HIM. HE'S JUST THIRSTY.

Yet another visitor arrived at our bird bath yesterday.

This guy has been around before but this is the first time I'd seen him stop for a drink.

Taking his cue from Old Yellow he used the back of the Blue Cat to hoist himself up.

Those piercing yellow eyes have a wary look and he is nervous around humans.

I came out into the garage later yesterday when the outer door was up and he ran out and across the street to an open lot where he scared up a Roadrunner.

I tried calling him but he wasn't having any.

I think you can see from the next picture why I've named him Panther.

Once he satisfied himself that I was no threat from inside the house he perambulated around the yard before stopping for one last drink before departing.

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

I was talking to a lady in the doctor's office waiting room yesterday and she said "Time seems to have sped up as I've gotten older . . . I can't believe it's January already."

I know just how she feels.

You mean it's Friday again already???

Well that means there's only one thing I can do.

Pass on some end-of-the-week humor.

Here goes.

As I noted earlier in the week, even Arizona got a touch of snow but nothing like it's been in 80 or 90 percent of the country.

It's been snowman time there so . . . .

Whew!  After all of those I think I'm ready for a nap, too.

Special thanks to Seattle Lori for the contributions this week.

It's your help, folks, that keep this crazy thing going.

Now, the weather is warming so, Gentle Readers,  get out there and enjoy yourselves on this wet and wild weekend.

And always remember to keep laughing.

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

ThrowBackThursday

A blast from the (distant) past.

Dewey Hopper, Roger Ball, Bruce Taylor, Jerry Foster, Carol Lynde, Diane Kalas

The occasion was a retirement party for Mr. Ball and it really wasn't the distant past.

It was May 12, 2012 . . . only about 6 years ago.

But the people pictured go back a lot further than that.

They all spent time at Channel 12 . . . KPNX-TV and prior to that KTAR-TV in Phoenix, Arizona.

But I left in 1985 and I think only Foster was still there at that time.

So these are truly some old veterans of the television wars.

WINTER IN ARIZONA

Wintry weather has finally made an appearance here in the Central Highlands of Arizona overnight.

When I arose this morning and peered with dread out the window, I saw that the worst of my nightmares had come true.

There was snow on the ground.

It coated the fence between ours and our neighbor's properties.

And when I went out to the front my fears were confirmed once again as I saw the shrubs along my driveway were covered in the white stuff.

So okay, it's not like a blizzard came through.

And now at 11 a.m. the temperature has risen to 43, headed for a high today of around 50 degrees and the middle 60's by the weekend so most of the traces of Old Man Winter's wrath are already gone.

And you know what?

That's just fine with me, a native North Dakotan who lived through too many winters up where it really snows.

And stays.

LAST NIGHT'S TV

Alabama wins national college championship game (again - sigh) with a long touchdown pass from a freshman quarterback.

In overtime!

Catalyst is stunned.

A FIERY DAWN

Dawn arrived this morning with fire and fury.

Not what you may think but just a cloudy sky lit up with the brilliant light of a rising sun.

Were I to be a little higher on the hill I might be able to get rid of some of those power lines.

But then I think they provide a nice contrast.

A few minutes later, from my back yard, the violence of the preceding pictures had faded to a gentler appearance.

Call that one "the soft fuzzy."

And so another day and week begins.

ROCKIN' ROBIN

It seems like a long time until Spring but I guess as long as the temperature hovers in the mid 60's I will get visits from this guy and his relatives and friends.

This robin red breast made several visits to the bird bath this morning but not to bathe, only to drink.

He seemed very nervous and kept looking through the window glass at me.

I find it curious that when he puts his head down to take a drink, he appears from the expression on his face to be angry and ferocious.

Once he got his fill, he changed his position to be looking out into the yard before flying away.

WHAT'S THIS? POLITICS?

Regular readers of Oddball Observations know that I generally avoid politics on the blog.

But sometimes it just overwhelms me and comes spilling out.

So forgive me for this one day of observations on the current political scene in these United States of America.

Our president is a genius, you know.

He just told (tweeted) us so.

Even with all the jibberish coming from our leader's mouth, he still has his followers.

And finally, here's one more for my friends in California.

And Oregon.

And Washington.

And Nevada.

And Colorado.

And Massachusetts.

And the District of Columbia.

Where would we be without our cartoonists, eh?

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

At this time of year, the beginning, some people of more hope than experience will be setting down their resolve of how to improve their lives in the coming months.

Here at the international headquarters of Oddball Observations we call these people "delusional".

But be that as it may, go ahead and make your New Year's Resolutions but remember the reality expressed in the following pie chart.

Or here.

On that daring note, I shall bid you adieu, Gentle Readers.

Please have an exciting and fulfilling weekend and always remember to keep laughing.

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

(oh, no, bail money again)

TBT: THE SAGA OF AMBROSE BIERCE

When I lived in Mexico, back in the 80's, I used to mess around with doggerel.  Here's one I wrote in August of 1989.

Ode to Ambrose Bierce

When you go down to Mexico

     away down in the Tropics,

          you'll find no friendly Texaco

               and the folks aren't philanthropics.

In Ajijic or San Miguel

     there's music in the air.

          The beer is cheap, tequila's swell

                and gringos everywhere.

The sun is bright, the palms are green,

     the ladies are so Spanish.

          But the nights can turn a little mean

               and sometimes people vanish.

A lot of them just disappear

     without a lot of traces

          and no one sheds a single tear

               and no one knows their faces.

So when you cross the border

     to cantinas that are fierce,

          be careful what you order

               and remember Ambrose Bierce.

(Explanatory note: Bierce was a journalist and fiction writer who traveled to Chihuahua, Mexico, in 1913 to gain first-hand knowledge of the Mexican revolution.  The 71 year old Bierce disappeared and was never seen again.)

DAWN

As one lonely soul sets out to begin the day.  

And the year.

A NEW BEGINNING

So now the year of 2018 truly begins, Gentle Readers.

I wonder what it will bring.

2018 HATH ARRIVED

SWMBO and I marked the occasion last night with a meal of seared scallops and steamed asparagus, both topped with homemade Hollandaise sauce and a nice bottle of Prosecco.

Lovely.

Sandwiched around that was a movie about Emily Dickinson, A Quiet Passion, starring the daughter of an old friend, Cynthia Nixon.

While she delivered an exquisite performance, we found the movie somewhat dreary.

She's been getting rave mentions, though, that may lead to an Oscar nomination.

We saw a brief flurry of the early (8:30) fireworks from the city complex, then watched the "ball" drop in Times Square in New York City on television before calling it a night shortly after 10 p.m.

And so on to another new year.

2018 IS NEAR

To all the many friends, both old and new, who have found these scribblings pleasurable, let me wish the very best for the coming annum.

Or, in other words . . .