MEMORIES

You fellahs probably can relate to the following song as well as you ladies can.

As I am trying to simplify my life I began last night going through a huge collection of cassette tapes. If you can't remember (or never knew) what those were, here's a picture to help you.

I discovered one I had been seeking for years. I had the plastic case for it but the tape had gotten separated from it at some point in the past. 

But, surprisingly, last night I located it shortly after I began this project.

It's called "Songs From An Aging Sex Bomb" by K.T. Oslin.

Now, I've never been totally into country music but I loved the songs on this tape, which came out about 1987.  And especially the song that became the Country Music Association's Song of the Year for 1988 - "80's Ladies."

I found a video of it on You Tube so here it is. Enjoy, ladies (and gentlemen.)

It's a little melancholy but I can remember a number of those "80's ladies" myself.  Good times!

EXERCISE YOURSELVES!

I have my lifelong friend, Dr. Jim, to thank for alerting me to this video via a Facebook post. It's so amazing I decided to post it on Oddball.

And it's a great piece of music.

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

Yes, yes, they're back.

And just in time, too, I'd say, judging from what I see on the evening newscasts these days.

Reminds me of that old tune by the Kingston Trio - "there's hurricanes in Florida, and Texas needs rain" etc.

But forward into the battle we march!

And if you DO think of something funny, pass it along and remember, always remember . . . keep laughing!

THE COLD, THE BOLD AND THE SMUG

Today's Throwback Thursday post has two purposes. 

First, as always, is to show you some photos of lives in the past.

But this week it's also to offer some relief to those of you suffering in blistering heat this summer.

So we begin with a photo of my late father from many decades back as he handled a regular chore he was used to around our home in North Dakota.

Do you see how deep that snow is?

He had to shovel a path just so he could get out of the house!

(I'll bet you're feeling cooler already, aren't you.)

Okay, let's flash forward a couple of generations. Here's a photo of my nephew, Dr. Barry, as he descended into the Grand Canyon on a visit.

You undoubtedly have noticed two things.

There is snow there so obviously this little camping and hiking trip was undertaken in the winter!

And secondly, he's wearing shorts! 

Obviously hoping that the temperature will rise as he gets lower into the Canyon.

Now just to show you that Dr. Barry is not totally in control of his senses, here's another photo of him on ANOTHER winter vacation.

Those white spots are snowflakes. He's up in the Boundary Waters area of Northern Minnesota, or someplace like it, skiing.

In a snowstorm!

Now, I don't want you to get the impression that he's the loony one in the family.

Here's a picture of his brother, Tim.

He'd been out skiing in Washington.

Now I've had a little fun with these boys but I love both of 'em. 

I just can't figure out why neither one of them took after their dear old uncle, who knows what to do when the weather turns cold and snowy.

He heads for somewhere warm.

Preferably near an ocean.

Where the locals now how to fix a fine piña colada.

Or at least where he can grab a cerveza in the sun.

(Now, don't you go makin' fun of my beads. They might be sacred.)

JUST CALL ME RUFE!

My friend, the Rufous Towhee, was back at the bird bath catching a drink recently.

My California Hoosier pal, Tom C., noted with a name like Rufous Towhee, he sounds like a blues man from Memphis.

He certainly drinks like one.

And his distinctive call sounds like one, too.

This morning I got a couple of better pictures of him.

When he knows (somehow) that I'm photographing him he doesn't stick around long.

Here he's about to depart.

Up at the hummingbird feeder, I caught one yesterday but his wings were moving so fast he's pretty much a blur.

Back at the birdbath it's a constant parade in the mornings and evenings.

The goldfinches, who nearly always come in pairs.

A damned dumb dove.

And an interloper of a different species.

Oops, just spotted this fellow on the flagstone beneath the birdbath.

Waiting for spillage, no doubt.

Never a dull moment in Catalyst's back yard.

TUESDAY TRAVELS

Yup. Those are the Alps.

Innsbruck, Austria. April '85.

The beer elevation may have contributed to my gaiety.

BIRTHDAY GIRL

This is kind of like forcing you to sit through our vacation pictures.

But.

How often do I get to show off a photo of my great-granddaughter?

Confronted with a cake on her first birthday, Alexis did what anyone would do. 

She piled right in.

And if you're wondering where she got that bright red hair, take your pick.

Here she is with her mother, Kayla, and dad, Russell.

I think you can see why I couldn't resist nicknaming him Rusty when he was about the age of his daughter.