LBJ

I've been reading Robert Caro's series of books on the life of Lyndon Baines Johnson.  I'm a little less than halfway through the third volume.  SWMBO keeps saying "why would you ever want to know that much about that man?"  I wonder, myself, some times.  There is a ton of minutia about him.  But . . . it's fascinating.  LBJ was an amazing man, a genius politician, a charmer, one of the nastiest politicos I've ever read about, a man who abused men and women who worked for him but engendered their loyalty for decades.  He was a wounded man who needed absolute command of those around him.  Freud would have gone crazy analyzing him.

From his earliest days, he had decided he "would be" President of the United States some day.  He knew that the way to do it was to be elected to the U.S. House of Representatives, then the Senate, then (perhaps) the Vice-Presidency and finally the ultimate prize.  His attention was focused constantly on his upward journey and he was mightily distressed when the way seemed to be slowing down.

I have spent many days in the fantastic LBJ Presidential Library in Austin, Texas.  It is a wonderment.

One has terrible confusion in reading of his life.  One minute he is a terrific public servant, the next he is a wife-abusing, staff-abusing monster.

I think Shakespeare would have had a great joy trying to define LBJ.



DA BIRDS AGAIN

Big fat robin.

Big dumb dove.

Big dumb birdwatcher.  (You can't see them looking at the ground, goofball.)

Wow!  That light was not nice to my hair color.  Going grayer.

BATH NIGHT

Remember when we were kids?  Bath night usually was Saturday night.  I guess my mother thought we'd look clean for church the next day.

But it was only once a week.  Now I have friends that shower two or three times a day!  What's their problem?

Anyway these guys will take a bath any chance they get.

Another rascal arrived a few seconds later.  I believe it's a different robin since I saw three at once in the yard and this one appeared to be much more cautious.  I shot a video of him, too, but I have tried multiple times over a couple of days and can't get it to load. 

So you'll just have to imagine him.

And don't forget your bath.



OH, DAMN, ANOTHER AWARD

Well, looky here, my old buddy Tom has given me another award.  This one is "The Illuminating Blogger Award."

Well now, Thomas, thanks for the award.  You can read Tom's writing and see some of his photos at his blog Light Breezes.

By the way, the award was created by C.J. at Food Stories.

Now, a random fact about me: I am older than most of you but still have most of my own hair and it's only looking gray under harsh fluorescent lighting.

I am supposed to nominate five other people for the award.  Let me start with Kitty at Kitty Kat Photography.  An English lass with remarkable photographic skills.  You'll like her photos.

Then from across the pond to right here at home.  A blogger in my very own town, Judy at Prescott Area Daily Photo.  Again a fine photographer with a great eye for finding the unique pictures.

Then there's the irrepressible Cupcake Murphy at Odd, Good, True.  Her take on life is simply hilarious and you'll enjoy her "tales" of Cooper, the family pet and actor.

Now we venture down to the land of Oz.  Meggie is a Kiwi but has lived in Australia for years.  She's had a tough last year but maintains her sense of humor (and outrage) at her blog Life's Free Treats.

And finally, I'd like to nominate a fairly recent addition to bloggerdom, Jager at You've Got a Lot to Learn.  Jager (that's an assumed name) is opinionated, sometimes foul-mouthed, but comes up with some remarkable blog postings.  Try him.

O.K.  I've done my duty.  The rest is up to you.

READY FOR THE OVEN

Veggies!

TWINKLE TOES



LA LUNA



HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!

A few days ago the fabulous Golden Gate Bridge over San Francisco Bay celebrated it's 75th anniversary.  I have fond memories of the construction through the photographs of my father's brother, Zenas Howland Taylor.  He lived in San Francisco for many decades and he and some buddies watched the construction from their "swimming camp" just down the coast.

This is my Uncle Zenas at the beach.

And this is the beginning of what was the famous Golden Gate Bridge over San Francisco Bay.

As you can see from the photographs, only the huge suspension towers were in place at this point.  None of the cable had been strung nor the roadway built.

The members of this swimming club had their own construction project underway on the beach.  Using driftwood and construction material that floated onto shore, they were building their very own "camp" for protection from those nasty Northern California winds.

This was the 1930's, the glory years for that Band of Brothers.


A few years later, Uncle Zenas had put on some weight and was looking good on one of his many visits to one of his favorite places for climbing and camping out - Yosemite National Park.

These pictures came to my attention after his death.  But they help me to remember my favorite uncle.

ALL TOGETHER NOW

This may not seem odd to you but it is rare when all three of our cats occupy the same territory.  Muggles and Blackwell are normally all right with it.  Muggles and Jazz are all right with it.  Muggles and Blackwell are definitely NOT all right with it.  Blackwell takes Jazz' spite in stride but if he's in the area Jazz usually wants to be somewhere else.

That's why SWMBO was stunned this morning when all three chose her bed for a mid-morning nap.



HONEY, OH HONEY

The continuing saga of . . .

. . . the honeysuckle vine . . .

. . . and it's eagle-eyed observer . . .

. . . il comandante!



BIRD BRAINS

The BRD says robins are stupid because you can practically walk up and touch them.  I think they're bold.  And sassy.

Now, mourning doves.  They are dumb.



TINKLE, TINKLE

My patio cover, with wind chimes and wind.

THE PRODUCER

Have you ever wondered what a television news producer does to earn a living?  Well, here's your answer: smoke constant cigarettes (maybe not so much anymore) and talk on the telephone.



That's me at the Republican National Convention in Dallas, Texas, in 1984.  Outside it was very hot and humid.  Inside the convention building it was ice cold, air conditioned to the point of death.  It needed to be that way in the huge auditorium to counteract the hot television lighting.  But this was a workroom away from the convention floor and the only lighting, as I recall, was fluorescent.  But . . air condition one, air condition them all.

Consequently I caught a cold the first day (of about ten) that we were there and wore that windbreaker and the nice Stetson hat I bought on the first day for the entire tour of duty.  It was a miserable week.  But . . . I did look pretty sharp, didn't I?

ECLIPSE



BEGONIAS



I asked SWMBO what these blossoms were called and she told me "begonias".  That's be-GON-yas with a long O.  Whenever I hear a word like that it takes me back to a trip I took some years ago with my friend Steve.  I'll call him Baseball Steve to distinguish him from other Steves and Stephens who read this blog.  Baseball Steve is the guy who has treated me to many Diamondbacks games.

Anyway, we made a trip one Fourth of July to the tiny town of Patagonia, in southern Arizona.  Patagonia is pronounced like begonia.

And that took me further back to a song I heard decades ago.  Turn up your sound, please, and listen to the mastery of B.B. King.



HONEYSUCKLE ROSE

I was out taking a look at what remains in the back yard last night.  Lo and behold, the much ignored honeysuckle bush just keeps right on growing.

The fragrance of a honeysuckle vine in full bloom is almost beyond compare. 

And it prompted turning to a great tune by the immortal Fats Waller.



KITTY TV

The BRD reports that the gekko lizards come up onto her front porch in the morning to warm up after a cool night.  She opens her inside door, leaving the screen door closed.  And all three of her cats line up side-by-side to watch the show on their very own Kitty TV!



IT'S A VICTORY!



THE OLD FOLKS VISIT THE BIG CITY

We are home after a couple of days in the big city of Surprise, Arizona, a western suburb of Phoenix.  We attended a friend's retirement party, then celebrated SWMBO's (number deleted) birthday with a wonderful dinner at the Vogue Bistro.  It's a French restaurant with a celebrated female chef, Aurore . . from a variety of restaurants including the Four Seasons in Chicago.  A couple of marvelous and huge martinis preceded foie gras, Oysters Rockefeller, filets mignon, a nice bottle of red wine, and a complimentary creme brule for the birthday girl.  (She shared.)  An unforgettably good meal.

The next night's dinner, at an Italian restaurant, was forgettable.  'Nuff said.

We got home at noon today.  SWMBO is taking a much needed nap and I'm about to follow.  I may soon look like Muggles did the other day. 

As SWMBO would say, "that is a very domesticated cat!"

ROCKIN' ROBIN

Among the smaller birds (as opposed to birds of prey like hawks and eagles) I don't think any is as brave as the robin.  All he needs is a little running water to practically come up and sit in your hand.

"Hmmm, are you sure this is safe?"

"Oh, that feels so nice.  My feet were getting very hot with all this hopping around."



"Okay, you got my profile.  Now how about a face-on portrait.  And while you're at it, how about my theme song!"