Tag: blog

Precocious

On Saturday I drove into Tallahassee in order to stay out of Studly Doright’s hair. Since he can’t play golf right now due to a recent back surgery, he’s embarked on a series of projects that I’m not adept at taking part in, such as cleaning the carburetor and spray painting the frame of a PW 80 Yamaha he’s fixing up for our grandkids.

I tend to be something of a bull in a china closet when working in the shop. Parts break, stuff gets lost, paint goes everywhere except where it should. Studly is patient, but after so many goof ups he shoos me into a corner.

My escape from Doright Manor took me to Target where I wandered the aisles picking up items on a shopping list. I made goofy faces at little kids and chatted with their moms, sniffed scented candles and hefted different styles of bookends.

I created backstories for people I encountered–the woman dressed in all black was in the federal witness protection program, the elderly gentleman wearing old-style khakis and a button down shirt had made millions in the stock market only to lose it all in the last recession. His gold digging trophy wife had left him for a still wealthy man, only to return because the sex was so damned good.

My imaginings were disrupted by a crash followed immediately by a harried father of three sternly reprimanding the oldest of his children.

“Isabelle, what did you do?”

Isabelle, who appeared to be six, or thereabouts, said, “The boogie boards just fell over.”

“Did you have anything to do with the boogie boards falling over?”

“Maybe, Daddy, but they were stacked so deceptively.”

The dad and I made eye contact. Neither of us laughed; although, it was a near thing. He’s going to have his hands full with Isabelle.

I wandered a bit more before returning to Doright Manor. Thanks to Isabelle I have a new excuse for my klutziness.

Peace, people.

All Our Children

Fox & Friends host: “These aren’t our kids. … It’s not like [Trump] is doing this to the people of Idaho or Texas”

Brian Kilmeade: “Like it or not, these aren’t our kids”

Peace, people!

Train in Tallahassee

Studly Doright would rather have a root canal without local anesthesia than attend a concert. He isn’t a big music fan and has even less interest in rubbing shoulders with the hoi polloi. I’m the exact opposite, in fact, I’m a proud member of the hoi polloi, and if possible I’d go in search of live music every day. I’m not averse to attending concerts on my own, but they’re so much more fun with a friend.

When I read that the group Train was appearing in Tallahassee I began hinting that I’d like to go. Studly, however, wasn’t taking the bait. I’d about despaired of getting to see Train when one of my Meetup friends posted the concert on the app. With the click of a couple of buttons I’d bought my ticket and was set to go.

Four of us met at the Cascades Park amphitheater on Thursday night to enjoy Train. It seemed the perfect way to celebrate the summer solstice.

I fought off gnats to take that photo above. Next to me is Shavani, then Martha, and Mary Kay.

Although the opening band wasn’t scheduled to play until 8, we’d arrived at 6 p.m. to score a good spot in the grassy general admission area. The temps were in the mid-90’s, a storm was building to the west, and the humidity was intense. We even had to take shelter from lightning for a while. The shelter was an air conditioned bar with cold beer, so it wasn’t much of a hardship.

A local band, Brightside, kicked things off right on time. They were fun and energetic even as they battled heat and gnats. Once the sun dipped low and we all stopped perspiring both problems were solved and the night was perfect for soaking up the music.

Of course, we were there to see Train and they didn’t disappoint.

They played one hit after another and did a couple of covers that were mind-blowing, including Tom Petty’s Free Falling.

My favorite Train song is Drops of Jupiter. They didn’t play it until the encore, but it was worth the wait. I videoed a bit of it, but my camera work wasn’t great. This one is much better:

https://youtu.be/7Xf-Lesrkuc

What a fun evening with friends! I was happy I got to attend and Studly was ecstatic that he didn’t have to. That’s a win-win.

Peace, people!

Snapshot #200

For my 200th snapshot I’d planned to find something spectacular to capture for posterity. Instead, I accidentally captured my pajama bottoms. They might not be pretty, or provocative, but they sure are soft.

I’ll call this one “Plush PJs”.

Peace, people!

‘Til the Cows Come Home

One cow came home with me on Wednesday night, well, a picture of a cow anyway. One of the Meetup groups I’m a part of enjoyed an evening at Painting with a Twist in Tallahassee where we painted happy cows.

Here’s what Clarice (Yes, I named my cow) looked like after I’d worked on the background. You will perhaps note that I’m not all that accomplished at the fine art of painting.

But I did progress during the evening:

Clarice appears to have let her bangs grow out. Why on earth does my cow have bangs?

I know she didn’t look all that happy in the photo above, but I kept plugging and voila! Isn’t she something? You can answer that any way you choose.

I was the least capable of the four of us who were part of the Meetup group:

We did have a great time, though, and painting is s great way to get to know people. For instance, they all now know that I have a rich vocabulary of swear words. &@$%# cow.

Peace, people!

Snapshot #199

I call this one, Zöe Yellow, because I discovered it in the al fresco dining area of a Zöe’s restaurant in Tallahassee. It was too hot for me to eat outside, but the flower seemed to be thriving.

Peace, people.

Odd

These past couple of days I’ve been getting some odd “likes” on my blog. People with handles containing lots of random letters and numbers similar to “xton1235.ocwdx.com” and “strsex9542.swrdp.com.” Note, I didn’t use actual links, lest I trigger some response.

These “likers” never comment on my posts, so I don’t have an opportunity to mark them as spam, but they seem to follow even my comments on other posts, “liking” things I like and the comments I make.

Are any of my blogging friends seeing similar occurrences? I feel like something isn’t right with this sudden onslaught (there are at least ten different odd handles clicking the like button on my posts) am I being paranoid or should I be concerned?

Peace, people!

A Pink Bicycle

I might have been five. My parents had taken me shopping at Sears in Lubbock for my first bicycle. There was one I really wanted. It was bright pink and had purple streamers attached to the grips. It was the most beautiful bike I’d ever seen.

My mommy and daddy tried to get me interested in a different bike. I don’t remember what it looked like, only that it had a lack of streamers. I’m sure it was more in line with their meager budget, but at the tender age of five budgets didn’t matter much.

I turned my back on the offensive bike, and I’m sure I stuck out my bottom lip and crossed my arms in protest, striking a petulant pose in the middle of the busy department store. When I turned back around, I was by myself. I thought my parents had left me because I was pouting about the bicycle. Suddenly all my anger evaporated and I began to wail.

A kind woman came and took me to customer service, but I was sobbing too hard to tell anyone my name. When my parents realized I hadn’t followed them out of the bike section they hurried to customer service to find me inconsolable. They hugged and fussed over me and finally I was able to calm down. They’d been “missing” for maybe five minutes. I’m 61 and I remember the separation like it happened yesterday.

So, let’s think about these children being separated from their parents at the border, their cries haunted my dreams last night. Let’s think about the trauma our trump-led government is inflicting on innocent children. Let’s pray that the harm we are doing isn’t permanent.

We will pay for what we are doing. Maybe not now, but we will watch these young people reach adulthood with righteous anger in their hearts. And we will deserve the consequences.

By the way, I got the plain bicycle, but Daddy put streamers on the handlebars and added a squeaky horn and a white wicker basket onto the front. I embraced it. I had a change of heart.

Peace, people.

Moving

It’s been a little over a year since the world lost Chris Cornell. I’ll confess that I only knew of him through my daughter’s sweet sister-in-law Steph, who adored Chris and his music. Since Chris’s death I’ve paid attention to his incredible talent.

Yesterday I was listening to Howard Stern on SiriusXM when they played a song released by Chris’s daughter, Toni, for Father’s Day. I sat in my driveway and sobbed. It’s beautiful and so poignant. Hopefully you’ll be able to utilize the link below to hear what moved me so.

https://youtu.be/6YB9M8aB6b8

Love your people. Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed.

Peace, people.

Golf on TV

There was a time when I could only groan when forced to watch sports on television. Since we had just one tv until I was a teenager I became resigned to watching one sporting event or another every weekend.

Depending on the season, Daddy had the old black and white RCA tuned to either football, baseball, basketball, or golf. I didn’t mind football as long as I could watch the Dallas Cowboys play, and back in the day the networks showed the bands performing during halftime.

Basketball was okay, as well, but baseball and golf were both good reasons to go outside and play. Occasionally, though, it was just too hot to spend time outdoors under the brutal Texas summer sun, and I’d end up watching the televised snooze fests with Daddy.

By far the worst was golf. The matches droned on and on while the announcers spoke in hushed voices that invited a good nap. I could read an entire book, put together a 750 piece jigsaw puzzle, and start another book in the course of a tournament. I’m sure my sighs conveyed my utter boredom and disgust, but Daddy couldn’t be coerced into switching to another program.

I learned who Arnold Palmer and Lee Trevino were:

So imagine my surprise when I grew to enjoy watching golf on tv. Studly Doright and I spent most of this past weekend watching the U.S. Open, and I was as glued to the coverage as he was. It helps that our big screen television has vibrant color and surround sound making the experience much more satisfying than it was on the old black and white set.

Best of all I learned to enjoy watching the tournaments with my Dad before he passed away, and my years of forced watching with him gave me a knowledge of golf’s history that Studly is lacking. I rub his nose in my superiority occasionally, but mostly I just snuggle next to him on the sofa and we give the golfers tips on reading the greens. Sometimes they listen.

Congrats to Brooks Koepka for his back to back U.S. Open wins. He listened.

Peace, people.