Friday, January 6, 2017


Yeah, yeah, I know.

I mean I appreciate Fridays too but I really get tired of this gal running up and down the street yelling with her Valley Girl accent.

But it's not a day to be grouchy so let's move right along to the humor.

Oops, sorry 'bout that.

Gentle Readers, wherever on the globe this finds you, I sincerely hope you have an outlandishly fabulous weekend.

And remember, always keep laughing.

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

Oh don't be frightened.  

It's just that gal running around welcoming "Fraiyday" again.

Thursday, January 5, 2017


This is a picture of me as a diligent student in my college days.

Clean-shaven, bespectacled, with a crew cut hairdo.

But why, Gentle Readers might ask, is he wearing that silly grin, with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Because he is participating in a campus stunt of the late 1950's which involved stuffing as many people as possible into a space built for many fewer.

I think it began with phone booths.

Those of you too young to remember phone booths, this is what they looked like.

Generally they were a compartment with a folding door containing a pay telephone.

If you're a fan of the Doctor Who television series, you may recognize them as looking like this.

But, before the advent of cell phones, they were used to make telephone calls.

Or for rowdy students to cram into en masse.

But by the time of the picture of the student that began this post the telephone booth had been replaced as a space to be stuffed by another small object.

The Volkswagen Beetle!

The tiny German car was designed as a rear-engine economy car for four people.

(I might add four SMALL people.)

The front compartment was the trunk, here housing your scribe, among others.

On this particular night, I believe the seats had been removed from the car in order to accomodate more passengers.

The owner of the automobile, Lew White, is seated on the floor behind the steering wheel with his glasses pushed up onto his forehead.

21 Jamestown College students were crammed into the car. 

It was driven slowly and carefully, with much noise from the occupants shouting directions to the driver who couldn't see where he was going, over to the girl's dormitory.

Proof can be shown by the lighted headlight.

You may note a miniature cowbell in my hand, used to further announce our arrival.

Ah, college days, when so many hours were spent at desks "hitting the books".

And then there were nights like this.

(Before I hear from the fashion mavens out there, I will call attention to my stylish argyle socks.)

Wednesday, January 4, 2017


Dawn over the savannah the other day.

Could this represent the light dawning in Washington yesterday.

I doubt it.

Tuesday, January 3, 2017


When I was a "young man" I used to hitchhike back and forth from my boyhood home to my college.

It was about 225 miles and I usually had pretty good luck.

But I can remember a few scary times.

Once I was traveling with one of my college dorm mates and we were picked up by a young couple.

The guy driving kept looking back at us in the back seat and chattering away while steering the car with one hand as he drove at what were very high speeds for the time and the two-lane roads.

When he stopped for gas, we bailed out, thanked him for the ride and congratulated ourselves on still being alive.

Another time I was dropped off on a country road far off my normal route and everyone else's, judging by the lack of traffic.

Then it started to rain.

Then it started to pour.

I had no protection and was soon soaking wet.

Finally a car stopped and a kindly couple of older women told me to get in.

I protested (a little), telling them I was very wet but they told me to never mind that.

I think they were school teachers and they got me back to my normal route and drier weather.

Then there was the man who picked me up on another trip and chatted amiably.

I was feeling good about this ride until he said he was headed for Albuquerque and invited me to come along.

We were in North Dakota at the time so I got a creepy feeling and nervously declined the opportunity to visit the Southwest.

It was a few decades before the gay era, when homosexuality was still mostly in the closet but I knew enough to be glad the man was a gentleman who let me out of his car near my college.

Times have changed since those carefree days of the 50's.

Monday, January 2, 2017


The savannah looks more like a moor this morning.

A gentle fog has blanketed the lowlands and as I watch it moves higher into our neighborhood.

As I noted earlier, it follows a rainy, drizzly, wet weekend.

The other evening, SWMBO was experimenting with her new light-up drink coaster and placed her crystal ball on it.

No, she's not a gypsy fortune teller though she might be able to make a fair living at it with this and her vivid imagination.

The BRD said it best when I emailed her the photo above.

"A galaxy you could hold in your hands."

Speaking of which, we watched the movie "Miles Ahead" from Netflix last night.

It's the story of a period in the life of the trumpeter Miles Davis during which he was not performing.

The film is the product of the actor Don Cheadle, who wrote, directed, produced and starred as the troubled and drug addicted Davis.

Cheadle gives a sterling performance though the movie is not for the faint of heart who might be troubled by language, drug abuse and violence or badly affected by Davis' sometimes discordant music.

I enjoyed it, SWMBO not so much.

Aha!  The fog has lifted.

Sunday, January 1, 2017


Another new year has begun.

I watched the magic moment occur in New York City at 10 o'clock my time last night.

Less than half an hour later I was in the Arms of Morpheus.

About four hours later I was awake again and the rest of the hours until shortly after 6 this morning were a scattershot of dozing and tossing and turning.

When I finally rose I discovered that I had forgotten to take my night pills last night, which includes a tablet to help me sleep.

Hence my wakefulness.

Old age and a bad memory.

At least I'll sleep well tonight.

Our New Year's Eve dinner was lobster tails and green pea risotto, along with about half a bottle of Prosecco.

A good feast and, no, I took no pictures.

I did take the new banner photo on this blog, though, yesterday afternoon, as I was taking a break from football on television.

Stepping outside on a rainy weekend, I noticed a patch of sunlight on the side of Mingus Mountain and grabbed the camera for a quick shot.

It's a little fuzzy as I realized later I had the camera in macro mode.

But I think that kind of adds to the mood of the picture.

I met my neighbor Rick, out walking Reggie.

He said he and Lori wouldn't be celebrating the big night as she has been not feeling well lately.

Apparently there is a nasty type of influenza going around.

Another neighbor had told me she had the "stuff" too and it had lasted about ten days.

No way to spend the holidays.

And so life goes on here in the Central Highlands of Arizona on this January 1st.

No snow on the ground but as I said it's been a rainy weekend and it's dark and dripping out there now.


Saturday, December 31, 2016


A friend gifted Judy with this Crown Royal 3-D glass and a coaster that lights up when a full glass of the magic elixir is placed on it.

She also provided a bottle of Judy's favorite quaff to fill the glass.

Knowing my preference for vodka, she also gave me a bottle of Stoli and a couple of "rocks" glasses.

Now that's a good way to say goodbye to 2016 and hello to 2017.

I hope your New Year will be a happy one.

As my friend Steve in Germany might say . . "Most of the Time".

Friday, December 30, 2016


Gentle Readers, congratulations!

You have survived the Christmas holidays.

Now brace yourself for an even bigger test.

New Year's Eve!

There's only one thing to avoid on this Celebration of Celebrations.

Too much "fun" on the Eve so that you end up like this on New Year's Day.

So there you have it.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

But above all, have an absolutely wonderful, sparkling weekend, filled with joy that this dreadful year is over and false hopes for a hopeful new beginning.

And no matter how hard it is . . . keep on laughing!

Here, kitty-kitty . . .


Thursday, December 29, 2016


Back in 1961 I was working at a radio station in Minot, North Dakota.

I was, I am proud to say, a rock and roll disc jockey.

I was on the air every night as . . . wait for it . . . Bruce on the Loose.

Curiously, that monicker has stuck with me through the years.

Only a few years ago I was at a reunion picnic and someone I hadn't seen since high school said, behind me, "It's Bruce on the Loose!"

I don't have any pictures of me at the microphone, spinning my stacks of platters.

(Yes, you younger readers, the music was on 45 and 33 rpm vinyl discs in those days.)

But I do have this photo from that era.

I was 21 years old, living at a YMCA and here was putting all the seductive charm I could fathom on the young secretary in the office.

It didn't work.

Somehow, some way, she was able to resist my reptilian ways.

Bruce on the Loose, indeed!

Wednesday, December 28, 2016


Some low-hanging clouds beyond the "savannah" last week before the big snowfall arrived.

(Clicking on the picture enlarges it.)

Tuesday, December 27, 2016


I tend to think of Farmers' Markets as a warm weather phenomenon.

And the Prescott Farmers' Market does occur during the warmer months.

But surprise!

Prescott Valley invites the growers to participate throughout the winter.

And today is the day.

I visited the market a week ago and took some photos.

One booth had a variety of squash and gourds, for eating or decorating.

I had never heard of arugula sprouts but there they were, alongside some pea sprouts.

Another booth had a variety of breads and cookies.

The Burning Daylight Farm featured home-made cupcakes.

And who knew that Paulden had a winery?

The judges at a Kingman wine festival did as the vintners came home with some ribbons in their first year of production.

And if the food and wine don't get to you, how about some hand-carved wooden spoons.

Or cutting boards in the rear.

The farms and ranches that produce these and other items are scattered from Chino Valley to Paulden to Williamson Valley to Dewey  to Humbolt to Mayer and even over the mountain to Camp Verde.

If you live here and care about farm-to-table food, you might want to stop by the parking lot with the white stalls in Prescott Valley Tuesday afternoons.

Monday, December 26, 2016


We have just passed what I think of as the mid-point of the holiday season.

It begins with Thanksgiving and a feast.

Leftovers and pre-Christmas sweets occupy the period of the next few weeks.

Here's one that surfaced at my house this year.

Bread pudding which starts with a Chocolate Chip Panettone from Trader Joe's.

SWMBO made two of them this year and only a portion of one of them left the house.

The remainder is being scarfed up by we two gluttons.

I think it's good either hot, re-warmed or cold while the master chef prefers hers to be always heated.

Topped off, of course, with a splash of Reddi-Whip.

But to get back to the season, it continues up to New Year's Eve and New Year's Day.

The baked ham we had yesterday looks like it will probably take us this short week.

We got a good deal on some lobster tails at the grocery store the other day so that will take care of our New Year's Eve dining.

The next day will be the beginning of coming down from the holiday food splurge, cleaning up whatever leftovers are still around.

It may appear to you as if our holiday season revolves around food.

Yes, it does.

We have always been, in that somewhat disparaged term today, "foodies".

It has widened our horizons and broadened our . . . well . . . I guess you can guess how this sentence ends.

So I'll head for the kitchen and another piece of that Egg Nog Bread a wonderful neighbor gifted to us.

And I'll rely on kitty-kitty to finish off this post.

Sunday, December 25, 2016


"When what to my wondering eyes should appear . . ."

The 20 to 25 minute drive home from the BRD's new home last night took us an hour, in Jack's big SUV with 4-wheel drive.

As we neared our home the visibility dropped to near zero.

Outside, some 7 inches of snow had covered everything.

And this morning it's a winter wonderland out there.

It appears to be a wet, heavy snow clinging to everything.

But now the storm has passed, the sun is peeking through the clouds and as the temperature begins to rise again the big melt-off will start.

But in the meantime it's a white happy Christmas.

Saturday, December 24, 2016


It looks like we're going to have a White Christmas in Prescott Valley, Arizona.

The rain just turned to snow and began to stick even though the temperature is still 38 degrees but dropping.

Time: 2 p.m. Christmas Eve, Mountain Standard Time.

2:15 p.m.


Christmas Eve prompts one's mind to drift back into memory land.

To remember holidays good and merry and bright and some that didn't achieve that distinction.

Gifts I remember from my childhood like the Erector Set that I was convinced from shaking the wrapped box before Christmas was a box of rocks.

My big brother might have had a hand in that, too.

The year I got a magic set, embarking me on an interest in the dark arts that has lasted all my life.

I still enjoy watching a good magician on television these days.

Huge turkey dinners and a competition to see who could get to the couch (we called it a davenport) for a nap and to rest an overstuffed belly.

Some Christmases spent totally alone, far from family and friends.

Not good, those.

And so it goes.

We shall spend some time this evening at the new home of the BRD and her Beau Jack.

(Yes, they're back together.)

Remember this thought as you all celebrate Christmas this year.

If you, like SWMBO, hate puns, place the blame on Lori Down the Block, who shared this with me last night.

As for myself, I love it.

Happy Hollandaise!