Who IS that guy?

Ah, the slightly older Catalyst.

In Minot, North Dakota, where he was known as "Bruce on the Loose", keeper of the nighttime airwaves on KCJB radio.

Rock on!

Comments

Sorry folks. A couple of spam comments yesterday have led me to enforce comment approval on my blog. It won't really affect regulars and non-spammers except that it may take longer for your comment to show up.

Damn spammers!

What is this?

Without scrolling down for the answer, can anyone identify what these strange structures are?

They look a little like grain silos.

They might also be some kind of rocket launching platforms.

What are they?

O.K. Here's the answer.

They're just supports for a dock at Watson Lake near Prescott. It's the ground level approach of the first photo that may have fooled you.

It was a beautiful day to visit the lake, which is full of water from the rain and snow we've had this winter.

In years past, there was an ugly white ring around the lake, showing where the water level previously had been and now once again is. The "bathtub ring" is under water this year.

Also enjoying the day were some waterfowl.

March 31st, 2008. A nice day for a swim.

This one's for you, Granny!

Knowing how Granny J likes the color R*E*D, especially on cars, I figured it was time to give her a look at BRD's warm weather car, as she calls it.


Even the centers of the wheels are R*E*D!


Since this is a 1983 Mercedes, the BRD has secured a most apt personalized license plate for her car.


We have a friend who, at middle age and unexpectedly single again, bought himself a little red sports car. He said every single man should have one.

I guess that goes for single (sort of) girls, too.

March Madness - - - - - truly!

Before I begin, let me warn those who aren't interested in the NCAA Men's Basketball Tournament that this post might get pretty boring.

I was looking at the bracket today and realized the Elite Eight, as they're called, has four Number 1 teams (North Carolina, Kansas, Memphis and U.C.L.A.) still remaining. Sounds like pretty good rankings by the people who do such things, right? After those four things fall off a bit but not much. There is one #2 team (Texas) still playing and two #3 teams (Xavier and Louisville). That leaves only one team and the ranking drops way off to #10 Davidson. Davidson? Who'd a thunk it? Well, I can tell you who the believers are. Gonzaga, which came into the Midwest Regional as the number 7 team; Georgetown, which was the number 2 team; and Wisconsin, which was the number 3 team. Those three powerhouses were all unceremoniously beaten by little Davidson, led by little (6 foot 2) Stephen Curry, who has scored over 100 points in the tournament so far.

Next up for Davidson is mighty Kansas, one of those four remaining #1 teams, Sunday. Will Davidson surprise yet another basketball powerhouse?

Ask the boys from Gonzaga, Georgetown and Wisconsin.

It could happen and a true Cinderella team could be playing in the Final Four. They don't call it March Madness for nothing.

Mr. Romance

Spring is in the air and romance rises to the surface. A long red (very red) limousine pulled up in front of our living quarters this morning and the driver opened the rear door for . . . Mr. Romance!

Now, Mr. Romance goes by another name and he's the BRD's steady beau. For three years in a row, he has shown up about this time of year in a stretch limo and he and the BRD drive off to the Marriage License Bureau. When the BRD comes home, she sticks the license up on the refrigerator door and there it remains. Until the next year. The license is good for one year. So far none of them have been acted on.

This year?

We shall see.

The Old Age Rag

It started this afternoon. SWMBO was taking a nap and I was paying a handful of bills. I had a couple of life insurance payments due. (Sidebar: I first got these two policies, relatively small ones, when I was about 18. My dad bought them for me because he thought it was important for me to have them. I've been paying on them for . . oh, man, almost 50 years now. As I was writing another check, I thought of how much money the company had received from me over the years and of how little my heirs are going to get out of it. But . . that's another story.)

Anyway, I was paying my bills chronologically according to when they were due. When I wrote out the check for the second insurance payment and put it in an envelope, I suddenly realized I couldn't find the envelope and payment for the first payment. I began looking all over. I went through a large trash basket several times. I went through my receipts file at least 4 or 5 times. Finally, SWMBO woke up and came in and I said "I have a mystery for you to solve."

So she went through the trash basket. I went through the receipts file again. I looked under my computer monitor, under the CPU, under my printer, under my bed, all around the desk on the floor. I had previously . . . because I was also doing my weekly chore of cleaning out the cat pans and refilling them . . . been through the entire house and garage, tracing my tracks. I even went out into the back yard and took a look around. I went out to the mailbox to see if I had taken the envelope out there.

Nothing.

Somewhere late in here I shouted "There's another one missing." The check for the company who picks up our trash also is missing. This caused yet another search of, now, all the old familiar places.

SWMBO finally gave up and said "Just write another couple of checks, put them in an envelope and mail them."

"But", I said, "what if I end up paying them twice?"

"You won't", she said, "the 'lost' ones will eventually turn up."

After a few more rounds of the house, I succumbed to this logic. I was in the closet, getting a couple of envelopes out and looking once again in the drawer where I keep the stamps . . thinking that I might have laid the envelopes in there . . when it came to me.

I had written these two checks out earlier this morning and mailed them.

Oh, shit.

I have a birthday coming up in less than a month.

And . . . this is a symptom of old age.

Shit.