LIGHT

What was that explosively-bright light I spotted yesterday?

Was it a meteor?

A terrorist attack?

A blown transformer?

No, none of those.

Just a last blast from El Sol for a gloomy, cold winter day in Arizona.

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

Good day, Gentle Readers.

Now that I've warmed up your humor senses with that Amazon-chicken-egg post of yesterday, let us get on to the real business of the day.

The Friday Funnies!

Now, Gentle Readers, yes, now . . . hitch up your knickerbockers, kindle your spirits, keep kicking knuckleheaded kindergartners out of your way, prepare yourself for a kaleidoscope of kaffeeklatsches, pound the kettledrums in a kindly and not klutzy way . . . . . and have a great weekend!

And always remember to keep laughing.

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

MY LATEST ATTEMPT AT SOLVING AN OLD PROBLEM

SO LONG, JERRY

I just learned that a Valley of the Sun legend named Jerry Riopelle died in his sleep recently at the age of 77.

He was a guitar player and singer who played with many of the greats.

I first saw him at the Celebrity Theatre as an opening act for David Bromberg and his band.

His New Year's Eve concerts in Tempe became legendary.

Here is a clip that combines both Celebrity Theatre (which featured a revolving stage) and New Year's Eve in 1975.

During a crazy age Jerry was loved by his fans.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS

To all of you Gentle Readers, lurkers and contributors of great humor to this blog throughout the many past days, I give you my most grateful thank you and my sincere and enthusiastic wish for a peaceful holiday season and a fulfilling 2019.

CHRISTMAS JOY

I come from a family of stoic males.

This is my father in Mesa, Arizona.

This is his brother in San Francisco.

This is my brother in Minot, North Dakota.

This is one of his sons in Washington state.

This is another of his sons on a visit to us in Prescott Valley, Arizona.

And this is me recently.

See what I mean?

There's a certain kind of "it's me against the world" attitude showing.

But in spite of all that stoicism in the Taylor family I remember Dad introducing our family to this Christmas song and playing it year after year.

It's become my tradition now so brace yourselves.

Dad's been gone a long time, now but I have a feeling he'd still get a kick out of that tune.

Re-run

Now if you folks read Cranky Old Man's posts regularly you know that he frequently goes back in the history of his blog and re-uses some.

Today I was lumbering around trying to come up with a post and I went back to the beginning of this blog.

That was in March of 2008, nearly eleven years ago.

And it was the second time I had written a blog.

The first one got wiped out when I got tired of struggling and decided to end it.

Anyway I started reading those beginning posts and found one I liked and decided, ala Joe, to give it another shot.

And I didn't write it originally but lifted it from somewhere else.

So here goes with "The Marines Need A Few Good . . ."

LETTER FROM A FARM KID
(NOW AT Camp Lejeune NC . MARINE CORPS RECRUIT TRAINING.)

Dear Ma and Pa,

I am well. Hope you are. Tell Brother Walt and Brother Elmer the Marine Corps beats working for old man Minch by a mile. Tell them to join up quick before all of the places are filled.

I was restless at first because you got to stay in bed till nearly 6 a.m. but I am getting so I like to sleep late. 

Tell Walt and Elmer all you do before breakfast is smooth your cot, and shine some things. No hogs to slop, feed to pitch, mash to mix, wood to split, fire to lay. Practically nothing.

Men got to shave but it is not so bad, there's warm water.

Breakfast is strong on trimmings like fruit juice, cereal, eggs, bacon, etc., but kind of weak on chops, potatoes, ham, steak, fried eggplant, pie and other regular food, but tell Walt and Elmer you can always sit by the two city boys that live on coffee. Their food plus yours holds you til noon when you get fed again. It's no wonder these city boys can't walk much. 

We go on 'route marches,' which the platoon sergeant says are long walks to harden us. If he thinks so, it's not my place to tell him different. A 'route march' is about as far as to our mailbox at home. Then the city guys get sore feet and we all ride back in trucks. The country is nice but awful flat. 

The sergeant is like a school teacher. He nags a lot. The Captain is like the school board. Majors and colonels just ride around and frown. They don't bother you none.

This next will kill Walt and Elmer with laughing. I keep getting medals for shooting. I don't know why. The bulls-eye is near as big as a chipmunk head and don't move, and it ain't shooting at you like the Higgett boys at home. All you got to do is lie there all comfortable and hit it. You don't even load your own cartridges. They come in boxes. 

Then we have what they call hand-to-hand combat training. You get to wrestle with them city boys. I have to be real careful though, they break real easy. It ain't like fighting with that ole bull at home. I'm about the best they got in this except for that Tug Jordan from over in Silver Lake I only beat him once. He joined up the same time as me, but I'm only 5'6' and 130 pounds and he's 6'8' and near 300 pounds dry.

Be sure to tell Walt and Elmer to hurry and join before other fellers get onto this setup and come stampeding in.

Your loving daughter,
Carol