The Courthouse Square in Prescott had a couple of celebrity guests recently. No, folks, it wasn't George Clooney and his new bride. It was BIG celebrities.
I don't know where Mickey Mouse was but that's Goofy! Looks like he may need to get on the exercise machine to take care of that pot belly.
Nearby another character was keeping an eye on things.
No doubt watching for careless smokers and others who might start forest fires.
At least he had the good sense to take it easy on a chair.
Smokey the Bear and Goofy the Dog were both on hand to mark Prescott's 2015 recognition of Earth Day.
Saturday some of my birthday gang and I took a little road trip which culminated in a visit to the Chapel of the Holy Cross near Sedona.
I was somewhat castigated for taking a picture and commenting this is how the amazing structure was able to be built.
But another one of our party who shall remain unidentified topped me as we were gazing at a mega-structure down below the chapel.
That's a single family home with a great view. My companion commented "That must be the home of the pastor!"
When no lightning bolts hit him or me, we chatted with one of the men working to guide traffic to parking spaces around the chapel. He told us the house was owned by a man from Phoenix and was estimated to be worth something upwards of 20 million dollars. He told us it cost a million dollars just to clear and grade the land before construction began. He also said the owner visits perhaps once a year and they hadn't seen him for about two years now. Meantime the waterfall keeps flowing into the pond.
Nevertheless, the views in the area are spectacular.
The forces of erosion over the centuries have created a phantasmagoria of nature.
And we were lucky enough to be there when a cactus was in bloom.
Well, it's over. My 75th birthday party, that is. I had virtually demanded that my four longest and best friends come to my home to help me celebrate it. And they did! Along with their soul mates. Tom and Lana flew over from Cambria, California. Tim and Jeanne flew in from Denver, Colorado. Steve and Debbie drove up from Phoenix. The BRD (Gayle) and Beau Jack came over from Prescott. Friday night . . . we partied! Saturday the long distance out-of-towners and I did the tourist route, visiting Jerome, Cottonwood, Sedona and Oak Creek Canyon. After which we gathered at our home once again for more drinks and food and great conversation.
So here, from the weekend are some photos of the group.
Tim, a television vice-president and world traveler, from Denver
Jeanne, his wife and a legend in our time
Tom, an Indianapolis radio-t.v. impresario, now retired and blogging in California
Lana, his wife, a beautiful multi-talented artist and bread baker
From Phoenix, my t.v. and baseball buddy Steve, his former flight attendant wife Debbie and from Prescott the BRD (who, aptly, looked beautiful)
And the Beau Jack, probably trying to sell Tim a house!
What is surviving to 75 (and beyond?) worth if one doesn't have good friends? I can't answer that because of this small group of warriors who have remained my good friends for decades.
Tim said he was honored to be invited but I was truly the one honored by the presence of these great folks.
It was a grand party, nearly enough to make one break out in song.
What? You didn't think a little thing like my 75th BIRTHDAY would keep me from posting the Friday Funnies, did you? Well, it's just an abbreviated version today. I have to go take a nap. But first . . .
That's it for another week, folks. Now excuse me as I rest from my labors.
That was the message on a birthday card I received first thing this morning from SWMBO. As if I didn't know. Three quarters of a century ago, in Stanley, North Dakota, my father sent this telegram* to his brother in San Francisco.
And so his namesake, Franklin Bruce Taylor, arrived on the planet.
Me.
75 years ago today!
People ask me where I got my weird sense of humor.
I think I got it from my father, along with his fixtures.
* - A telegram was something that was used to send messages while we all waited for email to be invented.
There is an annual festival of a relatively new art form in our neighboring city of Prescott. It is chalk art, drawn directly on the pavement of a parking lot. I'm always too eager. I went on Saturday, the first day, in the morning.
The artists are just getting started.
Some are a bit further along.
But the BRD (Beautiful Rich Daughter) was a lot wiser than me. She went down and took photographs on Sunday, the SECOND and final day of the fest. Her photos are much better than mine.
This is the work of Lori Antoinette of Palmdale, California, who knows how to protect herself from the sun.
But I found an artist who drew a girl whose name is spelled the same way as the BRD's.
So the old Catalyst gets the last laugh after all, eh?
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