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.