NGUYEN CAO KY

Nguyen Cao Ky is dead.  According to the Los Angeles Times, the former South Vietnamese premier died at a hospital in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, where he was being treated for a respiratory problem.  He was 80 years old.

I met the former general once, though it was not in Vietnam, in spite of my "foreign correspondent style" leisure suit shown in this photo.

That's his wife du jour in the center.  He was married three times.  Anyway, it was in northern California where a refugee camp had been set up for hundreds of Vietnamese fleeing the communist victory in the war and takeover of the entire country.

Over the years, I've had numerous people view this picture and say "I didn't know you were in Vietnam."  I had to then explain the photo.

Nguyen Cao Ky was running a liquor store in Southern California shortly after these photos were taken.  He spent the rest of his life living in California and Vietnam.

JOHNNY D

This is a photograph of a man who might be a Hollywood actor, right?  Nice gentle flicker of a smile, eyes a bit wary.  Not wary enough, as it turned out.  This is John Dillinger, infamous bank robber and killer of the 1920's and 30's.  He led the FBI on a merry chase for a long time but they caught up with him coming out of the Biograph Theatre in Chicago and shot him down on the sidewalk.  Johnny was 31 years and one month old when it happened . . . 77 years ago today.

Another Johnny D portrayed Dillinger in the movie, Public Enemy.  That's Johnny Depp above with the same gentle smile but eyes that seem to bore through you.

ALL THE NEWS THAT'S . . .

First the important stuff.  Arizona shortstop Stephen Drew broke his ankle in last night's Diamondbacks game and is out for the season.  He was trying to score from second on a fly to left field and when he slid at home, his right foot got caught, twisted and snapped.  Oddly enough, on the very next play Milwaukee's center fielder,  Carlos Gomez, made a spectacular diving catch of a blooper, landed on his shoulder and broke his clavicle.  He's out of the lineup indefinitely.  Baseball ain't no sport for sissies, in spite of what the football fans say.

Now then.  My pal Danny Bananas sent me a link in an email to some spectacular aerial photographs by Yann Arthus-Bertrand.  They're well worth a look and you can seen them here.

That's all for today, folks.

A LITTLE BIT OF THIS, A LITTLE BIT OF THAT

Sometimes one's best posts are merely referrals to those of another blogger.  Such is the case today as I encourage you to read and view Lucy's post from Brittany about the whimsical work of scrap merchant artist Robert Coudray.

On another subject, I have just finished the late Frank Conroy's wonderful book on the life of a musician "Body and Soul."  It gets a bit deep sometimes when talking about the theory of particular compositions or styles but, all in all, it's a wonderful gripping read.  In tribute to it, I offer this video of one of the musicians mentioned frequently in the book, pianist Art Tatum.

AWRIGHT ALREADY!

My former colleague and long-time friend Tommy the C sent a short e-mail today, gigging me a bit about my lack of posts of late.  So . . . here's a compendium of my most original thoughts recently.

When Rupert Murdoch got pied this morning during a hearing before a Parliamentary committee in London, the only hero was . . no, not Rupert . . no, not James . . no, not the pie tosser (a supposed comedian) . . and no, certainly not the rather spineless questioners among the MPs;  no, the hero of the day was Rupert's wife, Wendy, who leaped up and slapped the pie tosser with a long, right arm.  One of the typically idiot MPs later complimented Wendy on her left cross.

 = = =

It's been hot across the nation this week.  But nothing out of the ordinary here in Arizona.  108 in Phoenix today.  About 85 up here.  We had a little rain today.  Ho hum.  Just normal.

= = =

My Diamondbacks have been on a bit of a run lately.  Until tonight.  Right now it's 11 to 3 in favor of Milwaukee in the 9th inning.  Might be a hill to high to climb.  Yup, it was.  Game over.

= = =

The Republican presidential field continues to grow.  Former Louisiana Governor Buddy Roemer is going to announce tomorrow.  Texas Governor . . oh, wait a sec . . . oh, yeah, Rick Perry.  I had to Google it to remember his name.  He's apparently thinking more and more about taking the bait.  And yet another group of Big Biz money men are trying to convince New Jersey Govenor Chris Christie to get in.  And Michelle Bachmann's people were roughing up a reporter trying to ask about her migraine headaches.  Does this sound like a crazy campaign to you?  Too?

= = =

So, yadda yadda yadda.  You see?  I really haven't had much to say lately.

YIPPIE-KI-YI-YAY!

This is a fairly common sight in my town.  You see, once upon a time this was a huge cattle ranch, owned by the Fain family.  Little by little the Fains either donated or sold the land so Prescott Valley could be established.  But not all of it.  So that's why you can frequently find cattle grazing within sight of town buildings and residences.

So far, it's an easy accomodation and everybody lives with it.

'Course there are these two who seem to be doing a line from the movie "Taxi Driver" - "Hey, are you lookin' at me?"

By the way, this was not an original idea.  Jarart/Judy did it first last month and better than I did.  You can see her post here.

BLACKWELL . . . IS . . . BACK!

For those of you who have expressed concern about our Big Black Boy Cat, Blackwell, here's a photo I took on the patio this evening.

As you can see, he's back in the prime of life.  He had us pretty worried for awhile because he was acting just like our beloved Smoke was right before he left us.  But SWMBO began dosing him with some antibiotic the Humane Society had given us back when we had him neutered.  As it happened, he hadn't needed it back then.  But this time, it seemed like it was "what the doctor ordered."  He's back to eating and drinking as normal and has lots of energy.

Welcome back, Blackwell.

AND THAT'S JAZZ!

SWMBO and I went to an outdoor jazz concert the other night.  In the middle of the monsoon!  We had doubts about it but got there early enough to shelter under the roof of the amphitheatre.  It was an occasion because we knew the keyboard player, Joel Robin, from way back in the 70's.  We had never heard his wife, Delphine Cortez, but knew she was one of the premier jazz singers in Phoenix.  And how much can I say about the fabulous Margo Reed.  As I told her at intermission, we had seen her and her sister Francine the first time they sang publicly in Phoenix.  There was a jazz festival going on at a shopping center and these two girls, in their cutoff shorts and t-shirts came up from the audience and just took over the stage.  Margo told me the other night that the band was led by Keith Greko and "he didn't like performing with chick singers!"  But they were fabulous.  Margo later went on tour and became a very well known performer.  Later her sister Francine did the same thing, performing with Lyle Lovett's Large Band and leading her own group, as she was when we saw them in Guadalajara, Mexico during the Cervantes Festival.

At any rate, the concert the other night was a great experience.  Margo was as sassy as ever with all the style of a great singer.  Delphine, as I told Joel, just creates a symphony on stage and she's a great scat singer.

As for the band, Joel is better than I can ever remember him.  He does a number of arrangements as well.  Drummer Cleve Huff kept everything on time and showed some great skill as a soloist.  Saxaphonist Tony Vacca was a new find for us and he was spectacular, whether playing his solo riffs or doing back-and-forth with Delphine.

It was a great evening.  Now, gentle readers, go out and hear some live jazz!

CATS

Something is wrong with our big black boy cat, Blackwell.  He's only eating a bite or two and has cut down on his water intake.  He spends a lot of time under the bed.  We're worried as this was how Smoke behaved before we had to put him down.  But what can you do?

Meantime, I spotted our oldest cat, Muggles, in an uncharacteristic pose today cuddled up for a nap with a ceramic cat.

And a few feet away, Jazz has found yet another box that just  seems to suit her fine.

A CLOUDY DAY IN MONSOON COUNTRY

To the north . . .

To the south . . .

To the west . . .

Hmm, a little rain dripping out of that one.  Well maybe it will dampen down the radiation from that mushroom cloud to the northwest.

Gee.  Right over a fitness center, too.

O.K. Just kidding.  But it does have a somewhat familiar shape.

Meantime, where I live?  Blue skies.  No rain.  Heat.  Bah, humbug!
==============
Update: About 3:30 this afternoon the rain finally came.  It's been raining steadily now for 15 or 20 minutes.  Hooray!

THE MONSOON

I should have told you this before but the summer heat has given me a bad case of lassitude.  But here it is.  The monsoon has arrived.  As I have written before,  that means a change in the direction of the wind.  And that brings us rain from, of all places, the Gulf of Mexico.  Up here the sky begins to darken and look something like this.

If we're lucky - - and I say lucky because our state has been dealing with a drought for years and years - - we may get some rain.  Here it's been relatively light so far.  Actually a long light rain would be the best because when it comes down really hard and severely it just tends to run off, cause flooding and actually doesn't do the land a lot of good.

So it's the good and the bad.  Or maybe we might stretch things a bit and call it the devil or the angel.




Incidentally, Bobby Vee (Robert Velline) was a young man from Fargo, North Dakota, and the first entertainer I ever saw "up close and personal" right before he became a star.

NICE HABOOBS, EH?

So.  It's Wednesday.  Night.  A lot of people have been blogging about last night's dust storm in Phoenix.  So.  It's a dust storm.  We live in the desert.  In the monsoon season, as I've been trying to tell you guys, the wind changes direction and it blows.  Sometimes it picks up sand and dirt from the few open spaces we have left and it forms a huge cloud which is what we call a haboob.  It's an Arabic word.  But we got it and it's ours now.  So the dust blows in and nobody gets hurt.  Except, maybe, some of those newcomers from Chicago.  Other than that, the swimming pools get full of mud, the dust covers your cars, and it's gone.  In spite of the rather spectacular pictures, it's no big deal.  Life goes on.

O.K.  Enough with the dust storm.

Up here in the mountains, we don't get dust storms.  We get rain.  Sometimes a little.  Sometimes a lot.  Sometimes the dry washes around here get hit with a ton of water and sometimes some dumbass drives into it and gets swept away and, if he's not real lucky, he dies.  But that happens everywhere, folks.  If you're dumb enough to risk your life with weather phenomenons, you can lose your life.

I lived for many years in North Dakota.  They get blizzards there.  Sometimes people would try to drive through them.  (O.K.  Personal note here.  I drove through one for about 300 miles the night my son was born.  When I got there, he was perhaps 6 hours old.  So why did I do it?  Stupidity.)  Anyway, sometimes they get through, sometimes they don't.

I also lived in Indiana for awhile.  Occasionally they had tornadoes there.  I can remember one Easter Sunday when one came within, oh, maybe a mile, maybe a half mile of where we lived.  We got out, took our "stuff" and drove in an opposite direction.  Later, we drove to where the tornado had touched down and witnessed massive destruction.

So what am I trying to say here?  Don't be afraid of weather but don't tempt it either.  You get a big dust storm?  Stay in your house.  Close the windows.  It's only going to last for a short time and then you clean up the mess.  No big deal.

You hear me?  NO.  BIG.  DEAL.

AMERICA

How could I forget this.  Many is the time when I had to work in the t.v. newsroom on the July 4th holiday when suddenly our pal Steve Widmann would put a recording of this on and crank up the sound.  It was sensational.  And it still is.  No one ever did this song better than Brother Ray.  Just listen.  (And turn up the volume!)

HAPPY 4TH OF JULY

MATERS

Our backyard tomato plants are coming along.  First a couple of cherry tomatoes.  They're about ready to pick.

But wait.  Here come the Romas.

Sure they're green now.  But they're big and beautiful and they, too, will turn red one of these days.  There isn't anything like a home grown tomato.

NOW WHERE'S THAT DAMN CAT??!!

KING OF THE HILL!

Blackwell has become used to our evening cocktail hours on the patio.  He was a little early yesterday.  He came in to the den about 3:30, sat down and stared at me.  He should know by now that we don't go out until the heat is off the day, at about 6 p.m.  But he waited patiently, until I had made a drink and headed toward the door.  Then his usually flaccid state accelerated and he sped past me to the door.

So we went outside.  We had a quick little bit of adventure when Blackwell apparently flushed a young mourning dove
somewhere near the tomato plants. I was across the yard and suddenly this dove came, fluttering along the ground but not making any elevation. Another dove, probably his mother, was right with the young one, maybe six inches above him, shepherding him along. Blackwell was as surprised as I was and stayed back, then made a lunge for the birds, then stopped again as they headed up the passageway between our house and our neighbor's. Then he suddenly made a rapid dash toward them but I accomplished two things at once by slapping my hands together and yelling "Blackwell, no!" The two birds lifted into the air and Blackwell made a 180 and came running back. I'm not sure whether it was fear or inexperience that, for a time, caused the young bird to not be able to lift off the ground. But he overcame it. Later we saw the two doves sitting side by side on a tree branch for the longest time. I think the fledgling learned a lesson.

A little later, I went into the house to replenish my glass. When I came out, Blackwell had taken my chair for his own and stayed there, with a satisfied and kingly expression.

C'MON RAIN!

It occurred to me today that my last three blog posts all had to do with water.  Two of them with way too much water.  I found that kind of interesting, considering that I live in one of the hottest, dryest states.

Yup!  Some people think of it as hell.  The rest of it call it Arizona.  I just checked the weather page and it says the current temperature is 95.6 degrees Fahrenheit.  'Course, that's over in Prescott, which is higher and cooler than where I live.  But in this range, what's a degree or two difference?  And we high desert dwellers do have one advantage.

Yes, the humidity is low here, only topping out at about 30 percent and dipping as low as single digits.  I have been to New York in the summer.  One time I was there in August and the temperature and the humidity were matching each other . . . in the high 90's for both.  As I was waiting on a curb for a light to change I was hit with a sudden cloudburst.  I just stood there getting soaking wet and enjoying it..

Nothing like that in the forecast for today but y'know what?  The longer range forecast says there's a "slight chance" of showers and thunderstorms starting on Saturday.  Maybe that monsoon prediction I was talking about awhile back will come true right on schedule.

We're ready for it.



Come to think of it, one of those Bud Lights wouldn't be bad right now either.

MAG 71

I know these are probably glass sculptures, most likely done by the artists at Dale Chihuly’s place up around Seattle. But, they look like undersea creatures to me. And that scares me.

I’ve done a wee bit of snorkeling and I loved when a school of fish would surround me and I could move my hand through them without ever touching any of them. They didn’t dart away but they somehow always avoided my hand.

But what panicked me were the gars, or needlefish, that streaked through beneath me, zig-zagging back and forth in a thrice. This picture kind of reminds me of those needlefish, long and narrow and deadly (?).

I never did enough snorkeling to be able to learn to go beneath the surface. I just paddled around up top, looking at what colorful spectacles were beneath me.

Once I went snorkeling with a friend down around Puerto Vallarta, in Mexico. My companion was more experienced than I was. He dove. I don’t know if he saw anything more than I did. But I do know that I lost sight of him and while I was dabbling around on the surface, he came up behind me and grabbed my foot. I nearly drowned! I was sure a Great White Shark had me in it’s jaws.

My pal (?) got a big laugh out of it. The bastard!

But he paid for our snorkeling expedition and for the beer so I guess it was okay in the end.

I do remember that we went out to this site in a boat and when we were done with our swimming we had to hoist ourselves up over the side into the boat. I couldn’t do it and he and the Mexican boat owner had to combine to drag me up over the side.

But, like I said, my pal paid for the beer. What our friends for?

However. I still shivver a bit when I look at this picture.

Magpie Tales is a little game played by participants each week.  Mistress Willow/Tess posts a picture and challenges any and all to write whatever based on it.  You can read more entries at Magpie Tales and even get into the game yourself.

MINOT UNDERWATER

To give you an idea of what has been capturing my interest for the past several days, here is a video of what Minot, North Dakota, looks like.



The boat ride and the video was provided by a crew from Minot Air Force Base.

DISASTER IN MINOT

My working career started at the Minot Daily News in Minot, North Dakota, then moved to KCJB radio and KXMC-TV way back in the early 1960's.  I grew up only 55 miles away.  I have relatives living in Minot.  Now, the city is facing a catastrophic flood.  The last major flood was in 1969.  The spokesman for the Army Corps of Engineers now says the city will face twice that amount of water in the next few days.  Much of the city, which lies in a valley formed by the Souris (Mouse) River will apparently be covered with water for about a week.  It sounds like the disaster that was New Orleans when Hurricane Katrina slammed into it.

My cousin, only a few months younger than I, has been evacuated from her home.  When I spoke to her, she was tearful when we talked about the force and scope of this flood.

It is a terrible, terrible flood and, as many of the news reporters are saying, Minot will be changed forever.

One of my former employers, KXMC-TV, has been broadcasting news reports live and continuously, 24 hours a day.  You can find them here.  I've been glued to it for most of the past couple of days.

I covered floods as a news reporter in North Dakota.  It's hard work and it's not a lot of fun.  If you're the type of person who prays, you might add the beleagured residents of Minot to your prayers.

SUMMMM-MER-TIME!

Yes, it's the first day of summer.  The temperature where I live is supposed to soar into the 90's today and probably will hit 100 degrees tomorrow.  (World citizens, don't panic: that's Fahrenheit, not Celsius.)

The heat will be with us until the monsoon arrives with some cooling rain. 

So . . . what to do?  Well, here's a couple of guys with the perfect solution.

MAG 70

Once upon a time, long ago, I was watching some stupid program on television which featured interviews with "famous people."  The particular star being interviewed in her home this night was the actress Kirstie Alley.  As the interviewer walked around Ms. Alley's living room with her, she stopped at a mantel, covered in framed photos.

She pointed at one of them which showed a young couple dressed to the nines.  The interviewer said to Ms. Alley "Oh, this must be your parents on their wedding day."

Ms. Alley responded "No, the photo just came with the frame!"

I don't know why that television moment has stayed with me but it still amuses me and it was my first thought when I saw this photo put forth as impetus by Willow/Tess for this week's Magpie Tales.  You can read more of them by clicking here.

FATHERS' DAY

My dad has been gone for over 30 years.  But I can remember a lot about him.  For example, his pride in this big fish he brought back from a successful trip to Canada.

Spending most of his life in North Dakota, he had plenty of experience with a snow shovel.

Late in his life, he began spending the winters in Arizona.  He had his own home, a house trailer he bought in a court not far from us.  But in his mind he was never far from his longtime home.

This is the way I like to remember him.  Smiling, enjoying a good joke.

Yes, even after all these years, I miss him.

Happy father's day, Dad.  You done good!

THEN, THERE'S ALCOHOL

When the heat of the summer comes upon us, strange things happen in the minds of my loved ones.

SWMBO, for example, has created a new cocktail.  She hasn't named it, that I know of, but I tend to think of it as Mexican Mafia Tiger's Blood.  It is constructed of lemonade, an Italian sparkling fruit drink called Blood Orange, and tequila.  Served over ice in a wine glass with a salted rim. 



The BRD, on the other hand, was photographed recently in . . . well, let me just show you.

It appears I'm not the only oddball in this family.

IT HARDLY SEEMS 100 YEARS OLD

As I walked out to the mailbox this morning, I spied an unusual sight for my neighborhood.  It was a Century Plant. 

Now the Agave parryi, as the scientists like to call it, is common in Arizona but usually at lower altitudes.  I don't think I've ever seen one in bloom in my neighborhood, which is around 5,100 feet elevation.

The plant gets its name from the fact that it only blooms once in its life.  But rather than once every 100 years, it's more like around 25 years.  The flowering stalk, which can get up to about 15 feet tall, grows so fast it takes all the energy out of the plant, which then dies.  That means the flowering part will turn into a dry, wooden stalk.

So it takes awhile and then it doesn't last long and you will probably never get another bloom but the one time it's there, it is a sight to behold.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PAL!

Take a look at my old, old, old buddy.  This is Steve Torbeck.

Steve has a birthday tomorrow, June 14th, 2011.   He will become 62!  It's his first Social Security birthday and he deserves it.

I got to know Steve back in 1972 (he claims) when he came up from the "minors" in Tucson to join we "professionals" at what was then KTAR-TV in Phoenix.  If Steve is correct, I beat him there only by months.  I was a reporter/producer, Steve was a photographer.  We hooked up and became great friends, probably due to the fact that we both liked to drink and be silly.  Lots of adventures ensued. 

Steve quit drinking more than a couple of decades ago and it probably saved his life.  I haven't and it probably hasn't.  But, amazingly, nearly 40 years later, we're both still alive.

Steve went on to become a "one man band" at Channel 12, originating "12 Country", where he not only photographed but reported stories from around Arizona.  I can remember arguing with him about doing a "stand-up" in his pieces.  He didn't want to, thinking (as many, many other reporters did in those naive days) that it just distracted from his story.  I told him those days were gone, he was now a "star" and it was necessary to do it and keep his job.  So, he finally agreed.

He left the t.v. station before I did and started his own company, which was known then and today as First Take Video.  The name was a kind of in-joke dating back to his days in Tucson, where he earned the nickname Five Take Torbeck.

During my days as a reporter, Steve did me well.  Later, during my days as a producer, he did me well with his reports from the backroads of Arizona.

And during the past few years, after Steve became a hardcore baseball fan, he's done me well by inviting me to join him at games in Phoenix.

Steve is one of my true, good friends.

Happy birthday, pal.  I love you.  (But for god's sake, don't ever tell anyone I said that!)

OHHHH, SHE'S HOME!

SWMBO has been away for a few days.  The BRD has been gone for a few days so SWMBO has been house- and cat-sitting for her.  Which left me at home with our three cats.  We got along all right but Muggles is definitely SWMBO's cat and she let me know it the last two days.  She would come into my den and cry and cry.  I would tell her that her mistress would be home in a day, and then I'd tell her she'd be home tonight.

So tonight when she came home, she was suddenly surrounded by all three cats . . . all of whom seemed to be saying "YOU CAME BACK . . . YOU REALLY CAME BACK!"

But Muggles was the most happy and she lay as close as possible, draped over the end of the couch, happy again.

Meantime, the big black boy cat, Blackwell, has finally discovered a way to get out of the back yard.  He found he can leap up to the top of the wall up by the gate and mince along the top of the fence and achieve freedom.

So after two evenings of that, I refused to let him out of the house.  Does this picture (through a screen door) appear to show a cat trying to shame me into letting him out?

Well, he can just wait.  SWMBO says I have to get him a harness and one of those 20 foot leashes with a button that pulls him back.

He'll just LOVE that.

WARMIN' UP

It's 85 degrees at 3:30 in the afternoon.  June 10th.  Less than a month until the monsoon is scheduled to start.

Oh yes we do!  (I heard those dubious snickers about a monsoon in Arizona.)

It's a regular season here, usually starting around the 4th of July and running until September.  If you were to check the description of a monsoon, you'd learn that it is a change in the direction of the wind.  Where normally our "breezes" (heh-heh) come in from the West Coast, during the monsoon season they blow up from the southeast.  Dust storms down in Southern Arizona first, sometimes bringing rain.  Up here the mountain tops apparently dig into those clouds, releasing more rain.  Not a lot, mind you, but enough to cool down the late afternoons and evenings.  After a few weeks of dry, sunny heat-filled days, the cooling monsoon rain is a relief.

I remember my first day in Phoenix, back in July of 1972.  I was in a little store when raindrops began coming down outside and everyone rushed outside to get wet.  I thought they were crazy but then I learned that it hadn't rained for something over 100 days.  I got used to it and became a little crazy myself, in time.

YOU DIRTY DOG . . ER, CAT

We've taken to letting Blackwell join us for cocktails on the back patio.  It took awhile.  He was taken, initially, with jumping over into the neighbor's back yard and then, who knows where, until he got tired, or hungry, and came home.  Well.  I didn't like that, even though he wears a collar with a badge with his name and our telephone number.  I would get very nervous about where he had gone and I'd search and call his name and worry, worry, worry.

Ridiculous, eh?

But that's the life of a pet owner.

So I finally put up enough fencing and chicken wire and glass chunks that he was defeated in his escape plan.  So, now he is confined to our fenced-in backyard and he has only us to commune with.

Now if I could only break him of his habit of rolling in a patch of dirt immediately upon his escape from the house.

A DAY IN THE (BALL)PARK

I accepted my friend Steve's invitation to go to Phoenix yesterday and attend the final game in the series between OUR Arizona Diamondbacks and the Washington Nationals at Chase Field.

The next photo shows an angry Justin Upton, just after being hit by a pitched ball for the fourth time in this series.  An umpire is trying to calm him down as Matt Williams moves into the center of the action.  The Washington pitcher has been tossed out of the game and their manager is about to be evicted.

Both managers and two pitchers were ejected and four players were hit by pitches.  Espinosa of Washington was hit twice by two different pitchers.  We kept waiting for a "donnybrook" to break out but it never did.

This young fellow was a hero in our section as he made a great one-handed grab of a high foul ball.  He got a standing ovation from the crowd.

Finally, here are the two old codgers - Steve on the left, me on the right - getting ready for a Diamondbacks victory.  Unfortunately it was not to be.  Our team made a gallant run in the 8th and 9th innings when they scored their only runs to tie the game at 4 apiece.  But they couldn't bring the winning run across and a grand slam home run in the 11th inning brought victory and a series split with the lowly Nationals.  Still, a great day in the park.

CRAFTY

Prescott Valley advertised an arts and crafts fair for this weekend.  I stopped by briefly this morning.

Unfortunately what I saw was more crafts than arts.

Woof!

STUFF I LEARNED ON FACEBOOK

FACEBOOK, as some of you know, is one of those "social networking" sites.  I joined it awhile back, then got off it when a former colleague of many years ago got "pissy" with me, then got back on it with limited "friend"-ships.  Sometimes I post, sometimes I comment, but mostly I just read stuff that others have brought to the site.  One of my longtime bookseller pals, J. Godsey, seems to spend an unconsciounable amount of time turning up interesting items.  For example . . this bit of information.

Later, she turned up a great list of non-fiction articles which I suppose I could have found on my own if I read the Atlantic.  But I'm having enough trouble trying to keep up with my New Yorker subscription.  But there's some interesting reading on that list, like the article about Trader Joe's.

Then there's Turner Classic Movies, one of the few commercial sites to which I subscribe.  They send out tips on upcoming films they'll be showing on television.


Of course, I had to subscribe to my Arizona Diamondbacks site, which tells me lots about my favorite team.

Then there's my blogger pal, Joan Perry who keeps me up to date on restaurant news from Charleston, as well as a ton of other items about the city.

I could go on and on but I think I've given you enough information on what keeps me turning to FACEBOOK.  With all of that and blogging and e-mail and much more on the Internet, I'm having trouble getting through two books I recently brought home from the library.

Good thing I'm retired so I have all this spare time! 

A LOSS IN THE FAMILY

Please forgive the use of the word "family" above but it seems that once you get to know someone really well through the blogosphere, they become part of your family.  One such person is Meggie, away down in Australia.  She has just recently lost her husband, Les, after 45 years of marriage.  He was known as GOM, for Grumpy Old Man, on her blog.  They had some rough times together, as he would pull up her plants, mistaking them for weeds, or rearrange the kitchen according to HIS wants so Meggie couldn't find things.

But they had many, many good times together, too.  Many of those good times Meggie related on her blog as well.  Now she has to slowly accustom Les/GOM's favorite dog, Leo, to the fact that his master is gone.  Time and the love of friends, family and "strangers" from all over the globe will help Meggie through the difficult days.

So, if you knew her from her blog, Life's Free Treats, or from anywhere else, be kind and send her a message or a comment on her blog.  She needs us now.

HACKED!

I know.  Those hackers are taking over the Internet and causing a lot of problems.  I shouldn't feel this way.  So, I'm sorry.  But this story tickles me pink!

http://www.alternet.org/newsandviews/article/602525/

WEARY WRIGLEY

I'm sure I know how a number of you, up in years, feel when the grandchildren come to visit.  They are full of energy while you get progressively more and more tired, even if you're just sitting watching their animated activity.  By the end of the day you're exhausted while they're still going.  We had some of that experience last weekend when our grandkids were here for a visit.  But it may have been even worse for the BRD's dog, Wrigley.

You see, Lesly arrived with a new Yorkie, about six weeks or so old and he was absolutely full of energy.

This was one of the few times all weekend when he was relatively quiet though you can tell by looking at his face that he was "ready to go."

Well, Wrigley . . . whom I have said probably should have been named Wiggly . . . didn't quite know what to make of this small bundle of manic behavior.  (By the way, his name is J.B. and I think he'd been drinking some!)  J.B. ran circles around Wrigley, challenging him from time to time to one game after another.  Wrigley tried to ignore him but it just didn't work and by the end of the day, he could just stand and stare, though his tail was still in motion.

I knew just how he felt, though my tail wouldn't have been waggin', it would have been draggin'!

THE BIG WEEKEND

Who would have believed it?  I haven't posted here since Tuesday!  Can't say I've been busy so I guess lazy is the term.

Memorial Day weekend is upon us and for former Indiana residents it's time for this year's running of the Indy 500.

This is one guy who won't be in the race with his classic roadster.  Noting the "Hoosier" labels on his tires, I asked him if he was one.  He said he wasn't.

Lots of activities going on in the area this weekend.  An Indian festival, arts events, music everywhere.  Here's some homegrown art in an alley next to the parking garage in downtown Prescott.

Hope you all have a happy Memorial Day weekend and don't forget the men and women in uniform.

MAG 67

Now, this is an interesting bunch.

First there’s that pompous poseur with his monocle, staring affectedly up towards the light.

The young lady, ignoring her platter of chicken . . or is that pigeon . . , follows his gaze. But not without some disinterest and boredom.

The paid lute player to her left is rapt in his music, or in the cash that he will earn for this gig.

There’s a waitress (or waiter, who can tell these days), dressed in typical New York goth black, trying to do her/his job.

And then there’s the guard, who’s doing what he should be doing: keeping his eye out for interlopers.

So, what does this painting tell us?

Well, I’ll tellya what I think. I think these are a bunch of outta work hacks who are trying to become art objects. But, y’know, I think they’re mostly extras who stumbled into this scene in the hopes of winning the artistic “American Idol” competition.

My vote? They haven’t got a chance.

Except for the guard. He’s got an interesting face and I think, if he can carry a tune, he might be okay to lead a rock band.

We’ll see.

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BOB

Bob Dylan is exactly one year and one month younger than I am. 

I still prefer his music from his beginnings.