Who's Big Bertha?

Carol got me a very nice gift card, one of several gifts from her for Christmas. (I'm spoiled) So, I had to go looking for what I was going to get with it. I didn't realize there were so many things that shared it's name. I don't even know a "Bertha" but I knew I think I needed one. Not like this huge hamburger. . . although, I've had a few similar.

I didn't know about this huge, villainous cartoon character . . . I knew about this WWI artillery gun . . . ( I liked History in school). . . just don't think the Government would allow me to own one. I would only fire into the bad zip codes, honest.

But, I didn't know about this boat-pulled, water-thinga-majiggy; fun, but we don't have a boat.

Nor, did I know about this huge drum either; the "world's biggest" (in TX of course). . . . but I do like the Longhorns.

But, I knew about this Big Bertha, what I went looking for. Actually, the Diablo. Sounds, bad... Gotta love it for the name alone! As for a Big Bertha, I found out you can shoot one, eat one, ride one, fight with one or hit golf balls with one.

I just hope it improves my golf game . . . it sure felt good hitting on the practice range before I bought it. Thanks, Mrs Santa Clause! No one tell Mark, let me surprise him with it on our first tee :-) I'm thinking of taking the cover from my old driver and putting it on this new one!

a sign of Christmas

As I drove away from the house yesterday morning I noticed this huge raven in the street. He (assuming he was male) didn't fly away as I slowly left the driveway. He hopped a few times towards the curb, at least getting out of the middle of the road. Was he the first of those four Calling Birds I was getting this year? Probably not.... what is a calling bird? I know he wasn't the partridge.

Merry Christmas to all. . .

Scroogenomics 101.2009.84780-89123

Finally, what I've said for years is now supported by someone with a higher education than mine . . . . In case you feel the need to get out and buy last minute Christmas presents; don't. Recent information from CBS Sunday morning show of 12.20.09, gave us the revelation that doing this is actually bad for the economy. I knew it was bad for mine. It's suggested that if a recipient of a gift he/she doesn't need/like is actually a waste of 20% of that money spent. All this adds up to $13 billion wasted each year. (see link)
http://press.princeton.edu/titles/8972.html

Unless your last-minute-have-to-buy-gift is a an ugly-Christmas sweater, then read on. They're called ugly for a reason, hellooooooooooo, no one likes them, so why buy them? They have become subject of a new phenomenon however, The Ugly Christmas Sweater Party. (Originated by school teachers who receive way too many of them.) *If you own one of these sweaters, but you don't think it's ugly, sorry if this offends you. If I had an ugly Christmas sweater I'd be sure to wear it Christmas Eve, and start a new family tradition. If I had one. I don't, thankfully, and I'm fine with that. Although I've a few ties I wasn't sure of. . .
*See link if you're interested in what to do with your ugly Christmas sweaters hidden away in the bottom drawer. . . . =-/ http://www.uglychristmassweaterparty.com/

Blood draw experience

I'm sure this looked ten-times bigger to Cohen. "Just a quick sting." the nurse said, "and then it's all over." He was already worried with how bad it might be, had wanted to just go home even before I came to help Lindsay with what she knew, would be hard on her - holding him still while not fainting herself. "No, no I don't wanna do this!" Nurse: "Show me your muscles, let me see how strong you are." Cohen: "No, you don't want to see my muscles, you're trying to trick me." (his arms were locked tight, folded across his chest) Me: "It won't be so bad, let's just do it and get it over with." "I promise, it will only hurt a little and then it won't hurt anymore." "No, no, no, I don't want to do this." (I didn't want to do it either and I'd have gladly traded places with him.) As he started to scream even louder, I closed the room door to the small, cramped blood draw room, hoping to shield mom and little brother from hearing his fright. I held him on my lap. With tears running down his cheeks, my leg over his and holding both his arms, two nurses (vampires in disguise) drew blood from a very small needle,also keeping his arm locked down solid. After about 30 seconds I could feel him relax and as calm as I could, said, "See, it's almost over and it doesn't hurt any more...." After the second vial was full, I told him to count to three and we'll be done. All four of us started counting, but with Monkey Boy counting faster, we finally reached three. . . . but I'd guessed wrong, they were on the fourth vial. Cohen, as matter-of-fact as you can said, "We counted to three, you can take it out now." Just about then, out it came, and a sigh of relief by he and I were both evident.

We had made a pact before all this, kind of a deal, something as a reward. We can have a camp-out tonight, two monkey boys and I will stay up watching The Nightmare Before Christmas then hopefully, enjoy sweet dreams..... I wasn't my most pleasurable experiences, but I was glad I was able to be there with him. Sitting in the waiting room, even before we went back for the blood draw, I think he had an idea what was coming, he suggested I do it for him, or even Sandler. Or, "Can't they just look at the computer?" (thinking they have all the answers...such as 'why can't we google all of life's questions?')

See Lindsay's blog for details: http://mirandafam.blogspot.com/

Christmas thoughts

The only way I'll see a white Christmas is by watching the movie............never experienced one.
I've never experienced a one-horse-open sleigh ride.....would love to be on one, under a blanket with Carol, hot chocolate, peace and quiet. (this is how we'd look )

My favorite Christmas carol makes up for what I don't have, as the words to Little Drummer Boy, kinda says it all. Pa rump a pump a pump... good music ads to it. (not counting the words we made up to Jingle Bells while in Vietnam. . . . shot gun shells, mortar shell, VC in the grass...)

Here's a modern version of a little drummer boy. Hope to see some of you on that magical night!! You can find me at Walgreen's getting doing my shopping - :-)

It's the little things that count. . .

Did you know that little chocolate chip evolved solely for the purpose to go into the chocolate chip cookie? In 1930 Ruth Wakefield,

the owner of the Toll House Inn was frustrated when she didn’t have enough cocoa powder for her cookies. Woman "know-how" took over. She found a semi sweet Nestles chocolate bar, chopped it up finely, and stirred the little pieces into her cookies. Viola! (I doubt she really said this nor knew of the magnitude of her actions, this little seemingly, unimportant act of ingenuity.)The pieces didn’t melt away and the cookies were an immediate hit with everyone. Word spread. Soon after her recipe was printed in the local newspaper. With American ingenuity the Nestles Family invented the chocolate chip. Amazingly, we now consume over six billion chocolate chip cookies, over 30% of all cookies eaten yearly worldwide. I can’t imagine Osama eating one, unless it was laced with Prozac or Valium or other medication to turn him into a peace lover, or as last resort maybe arsenic …. They have a magical calming and warming quality to them. I can't begin to list the favorite ones I’ve eaten over the years, certainly my mom’s and my Aunt Margaret’s in Henderson as a little six year old boy come to mind. I’ve even made my share of them.(my secret is @ tbs of water to help them stay moist) But, the best ones are those made by someone else. Like those found on your door step after a door bell ring. Opening the door to no one standing there, just this lonely, little Christmas plateful of chocolate chip cookies, red-bow or not, begging to be eaten; shared, of course, as someone thought enough to share their love of these magical eats. I’ve never had a bad one, just some really good ones. The uneven shaped ones always evoke home-made goodness and childhood memories! With or without pecans and just a tad dark on the bottom. . . yummy. (Note to health conscience readers - don't waste your time trying to make them "healthy" they won't be the same.) I've eaten many sent to me in the mail from home while in the Army. (usually arriving in little pieces in a brown paper wrapped box) As if holding an escape from the military madness we all lived with, I shared them with only my closest buddies. Gone in sixty seconds. I've eaten them in strangers' homes while on duty, some in not-too clean-looking environments; it would be rude to reject the love they wanted so share. Thanks to all those who make and freely share them. This isn't an earth shattering revelation, but I felt the need to blog . . .

Ron's top ten bicyle trivia facts

1. The first human powered land vehicle was constructed by Giovanni Fontana in 1418. (I got my first bike sometime around 1954)
2. The term "bicycle" first entered into popular usage in France in the 1860s.
3. The prototype of the mountain bike was not developed until 1977. (I rode a mountain bike while a bike cop 1998 - 2001 where I even learned how to traverse stairs. Funnest job I ever had!)

4. The longest "tandem" bike ever built was almost 67 feet long and could seat 35. (I call dibs on the last seat.)
5. The smallest adult bicycle ever created had wheels made from silver dollars. ??
6. I crashed into a parked car once while kicking at a dog biting at my foot & not watching where I was riding. I was about 5 years old. I cried.
7. The fastest speed ever recorded on a bicycle was attained by American Olympic Cyclist and Ironman triathlon competitor John Howard, when he reached 152.2 mph in 1985. My fastest speed was 45 mph down Little Cottonwood Canyon, SLC. I'll never go that fast again on skinny little tires. . . .
8. Lance Armstrong's heart is one-third larger than "normal." (Lance is the seventh cousin of Katie Couric.) My heart has a stent & I don't know who my seventh cousin is.

9. There are roughly one billion bicycles in the world (about twice as many as motor vehicles) I own three of them.

10. According to Transportation Alternatives, 10% of New York City's work force--approximately 65,000 humans--commute by bicycle. (And I rode the subway or took a cab while in NYC!)

This little guy could be riding exactly like this when he's 70

years old... ya never know. Hopefully, not with the training wheels :-)

People, dogs & thoughts

In my rounds Wednesday out of the office, I found a few note-worthy blog photos, what we used to call Kodak Moments. My first worthy sight were these two Weimaraners. Their owner had loaded them, one at a time, into a shopping cart and rolled them inside Home Depot. They were like babies, sitting with impatience, worry and anticipation as dogs can do. First one carried from the back seat of the truck to the cart, then the second one. Blind obedience, wagging tails and whining. Glad to be going anywhere with their master. This sight enlightened my attitude.
Then, as I was in a long line of traffic, you know, the ones so long you hope you can make it through in one light change cycle. This cyclist decided to change lanes and bolt into my 'safety space' I like to keep between my car and any vehicle in front of me. I lost my good attitude. No, I didn't honk or yell at him. I told myself relax since he wasn't going anywhere either.
Later in the day while downtown, I had just left the District Attorney's office and saw this usual/but unusual homeless person with all this personal property. (term loosely used) I had held my camera down at my side, as if casually just walking by, and hoped to have taken this picture as innocently as I could. As I neared I could see she knew I'd had taken her picture. I stopped and asked if all this stuff was her belongings. She said, "Some of it, some I'm watchin' for others." It was a matter-of-fact-I-should-have-known-this answer. I asked if she had family and if they knew she was okay. She said yes to both questions. Since I couldn't do what I once was able to do, sometimes get social services involved, I did something out of the ordinary for me. I gave her money, a $10 bill. She took it with a muffled thanks, not a bit fazed by the hand-out. She didn't look to be underfed, but it could've been due to the several pants and coats she wore. I left not really knowing what I should feel having seen this for years without much involvement, keeping a safe distance from this street society. I questioned if $10 was too much or too little. Would $10 buy alcohol or food?

I've saved the best picture for last. It reminded me of the TV commercial where the dogs stick their heads out the window. What a contrast between dogs and us humans. They enjoy life, don't judge us, are resilient and trusting of anyone nice to them (well, most dogs anyway) and seem to enjoy the moment they're in; the little things are important to them.

I can think of several analogies here but I'll leave these to your imaginations. Have a good weekend everyone.

Just political ranting

"We the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America." This sound familiar? I'm sure you all read learned about it in school. (those who paid attention in school) So, how did provide welfare come from promote the general welfare?When you think about, our country began as a bunch of insurgents who stood up to Britain and said they won't live under their tyranny any longer. What's going on today with politics scares the beejeebees out of me...

Where's John Wayne and Audie Murphy when you need them?

hAppy thAnksgiving

Thanksgiving Day, 1968, Central Highlands, Vietnam. It was my second Thanksgiving away from home. (the first had been in Basic Training) The day started out like any other, except my assignment that day was to haul hot thanksgiving dinners to the grunts and artillery units in the field. Uncle Sam did it's best to get hot chow to these guys who normally lived daily, eating C-rations - now MRE's. (C-rats were actually pretty good and had some variety, of which my favorite were beans and franks and cheese and crackers) That day I remember coming back to our base late at night after flying all day. (I'm sure we had normal resupply flights as well as the hot foods) The mess sergeant had saved dinner for us guys in the flight platoon, we ate a nice dinner after all, just later than normal. The picture below is a pretty good example of what I flew into on a daily basis, to include Thanksgiving Day 41 years ago. Funny, it doesn't seem that long ago.

So now with all the hoopla about this day, at least one of the things I'm thankful for is that I made it home alive and well for family dinners and trying to live the normal American dream as it pertains to this over-rated holiday. I've had a lot of Thanksgiving dinners since then, some better than others, some to accommodate my working shift...it's not always about the food.

Enjoy everyone!!!

Jumping on the Thankful wagon

With all the thankfulness going on, I thought I'd share a few thoughts. I'm thankful for older, nostalgic, non-neon advertisements on buildings.
I'm thankful I'm not this guy (and who knows if he really is a vet or not) but I'm thankful I'm a vet and survived it all with some sanity and health.

I'm extremely thankful for these little guys & their caring parents. . . .

& I'm thankful that I'm healthy enough at my age to ride my bike.

This list can go on and on and on but I don't have the corresponding pictures, IE, my lovely & understanding wife, my super and talented children and having been born of goodly parents. . . Oh, and the turkey dinner I don't have to prepare any more.

Redneck, White trash or Trailer trash....

I wondered if these terms are interchangeable so I did a little research. Very little. In reality, I wonder if I've been in any of these categories at one time in my life. I lived in Alabama for a few months during my post Vietnam Army time. I shared a trailer with two others, one who was married (primary trailer owner who's wife was in Mississippi giving birth to their first child.)

A Redneck is a disparaging term that refers to a person who is stereotypically Caucasian and of lower social-economic status in the United States and Canada, particularly referring to those living in rural areas. White trash is a term referring to individual or groups of lower social class Caucasian people that are considered to lack social status. You know who they are. It is most frequently used as a slur to describe financially, economically or culturally disadvantaged Caucasians. Trailer Trash is a derogatory description for person who seems well-suited to residential life in a mobile home park and is distinguished by poor hygiene, foul language, slovenly or slutty clothing, and general ignorance. Recreations include drinking malt liquor in lawn chairs under tattered R.V. awning and teenage pregnancy. Although generally assumed that trailer trash refers to Caucasians this term can be applied to minorities as well. Talk about stereotyping! Then there are the classy parks such as . . . . .
and this one somewhere in the south. GA? I reckon you have to use your imagination to see

this park in better conditions. When I stayed in one I didn't think anything negative about it. Carol's family lived in a trailer (Mobile Home, ooops) for a while and she turned out ok! =-)

So, now you know...

Who makes up these words?

Freeganism is an anti-consumerist lifestyle whereby people employ alternative living strategies based on "limited participation in the conventional economy and minimal consumption of resources". (Sounds like an unemployed, homeless or psychotic person to me.) Many freegans get free food by pulling it out of the trash, a practice commonly nicknamed dumpster diving. (again, I refer to above bracketed thought) Freegans find food in the garbage of restaurants, grocery stores, and other food related industries, which they claim allows them to avoid spending money on products that exploit the world's resources, (?? huh ??) contribute to urban sprawl, treat workers unfairly, or disregard animal rights. By foraging, they believe they are keeping perfectly edible food from adding to landfill clutter and that can instead, feed people and animals who might otherwise go hungry. Maybe I'll see what my local Von's is throwing away before I actually go inside and buy something next time and avoid exploiting the world's resources. Obviously, it must have it's merits or freeganism would not be around....
(Here's a picture of Carol last week when she thought she smelled chocolate behind Von's.)

Did you know?

Do you believe everything you read? (found on AOL) Sex can trigger amnesia? Doctors say lovemaking is one of the major causes of a baffling medical condition called transient global amnesia in which patients lose their immediate memory. At least I got your attention :-)
Car seats may be dangerous for infants? A new study released Aug. 24 suggests that car seats could constrict a newborn baby's airway because of the way the child's head and neck tend to tilt. The dye used in blue M&Ms and Gatorade can reduce damage from a spine injury? University of Rochester Medical Center researchers found that rodents with spinal cord injuries were able to walk with a limp after being injected with Brilliant Blue G. The only side effect? They temporarily turned blue.
Children age 4 and younger account for more than half of all bathtub- and shower-related injuries? A study in the journal Pediatrics found that such accidents send 120 kids to emergency rooms in the U.S. every day. The most commonly affected area was the head, which accounted for nearly 50 percent of tub injuries.
A diet high in fatty foods may raise your risk for pancreatic cancer? (you know, those double-doubles) People who eat lots of saturated fats are 36 percent more likely to develop the disease, according to a study in the Journal of the National Cancer Institute.

**Okay, so I did my duty and blogged today...was this too much information? I can't remember...where did I put my glasses?

hot chocolate - a healthy drink!

Saw this today, thought it'd give me fodder for this blog month we're in..... I will paste excerpts from it to save you the long, drawn out version I had to suffer through, which after reading, I craved a hot chocolate for some reason, even if it was 82 degrees today!

"I never associated hot cocoa with good health. It was just a better, lower fat alternative to an intense craving for, let's say, ½ pound of dark chocolate devoured in one sitting, or a really big slice of Mud Pie...... hot cocoa has been elevated to a new status: Health Drink. Recently, researchers at Cornell University have found that cocoa teems with antioxidants that prevent cancer. In fact, cocoa has nearly twice the antioxidants of red wine and up to three times those found in green tea. This discovery surprised even the researchers: 'If I had made a prediction before conducting the tests, I would have picked green tea as having the most antioxidant activity,' However using this good news as an excuse to polish off more chocolate bars is a no-no: Although a bar of chocolate exhibits strong antioxidant activity, the health benefits are still controversial because of the saturated fats present,' researchers of the study write. Okay, so hot cocoa (minus the whipped cream & marshmellows) is a good way to fight cancer, but can't you get just as many antioxidants from, say, eating a carrot stick?
Well, yes, any vegetable you pick up at your produce section (particularly grapes, garlic and spinach) is bound to give you healthy boost of cancer-fighting antioxidants. But how much fun can you possibly have munching on garlic cloves while curled up by the fire on a cold winter night? So this holiday season, drink up your hot cocoa - after all, it's good for your health!"

The study did mention to NOT use the pre-made packaged hot chocolates, they have way too much sugar (you know, calories...) and other non-essential parts ~remember my blog of acceptable animal/insect parts in our packaged foods :-)? and make your own. Drink up!!

Bike riding vs Golf

I've been wanting to do 'my 32 mile bike ride' through Hurricane, around Sand Hollow Reservoir and back to Coral Canyon, for some time now. I haven't been on a bike in over a month, because Mark has been begging me to play golf with him on Saturdays, so I've not had the chance. I played golf Thursday and Friday with cold and windy conditions. The weather was nicer on Saturday, so off I went riding. My first stop was in Hurricane, paid my speeding ticket. . . . (joking) and headed out to the country side. They are closed on Sat and have a nice bench out front. Below, I'm smiling in this picture, (about half-way) as I wanted to show the openness behind me of what I ride through ~ so you can see one reason I like the route. I took this picture (I hoped I wiped under my nose before the picture.........you know, wind, cold air.....) before I hit a head wind and headed UP that dreaded Purgatory Hill on the way back. I wasn't smiling then. *note to self: don't think you can ride the same you've been used to if ....... you haven't ..... been riding....... pant........... pant........ for a while. I have a good friend, retired cop, who initially got me into bike riding in the 80's, who has given up riding for golf. He's 65 now, and says golf is safer...... I'm not far behind and if my golf game improves, I may follow suit.

The passing of a friend

Interesting. (and certainly not planned) Carol and I both have blogs about the death of some one who had been a part of our lives. My blog is of someone I'd worked with, although I always thought of him as a friend more than a work colleague. Dave Austin, 56 years young. (he wasn't a cop) I first new Dave from when I'd respond to calls for service at the Hilton Hotel beginning in 1975, usually a crime report was needed and or a suspect was in custody from some dastardly deed ~ purse snatch, room burglary, prowling, fighting, trespassing, gambling/slot cheat, unauthorized signing of credit card document, attempt auto burglary or theft, defrauding an inn keeper, or a myriad of other crimes. You think of it, the Hilton drew them. Dave was the security department's swing shift lieutenant then, me a rookie cop. I grew to respect Dave and his professionalism. He was always there to meet me, fill me in on the details, escort me to the security office, (sometimes offer me dinner at the employee dinning room first) and ensure I had all I needed to do my job. It was like I was an invited guest in his home, he took the responsibility seriously. He later transferred to the MGM as security director where we worked together again via my stint in special events and or my duties on patrol again. I could go months without talking to him and not miss a beat in our casual but respecting attitude towards each other when we did see each other or talk on the phone. We were both ring-side the night Mike Tyson bit Holyfield' ear. We watched professional bull riders, us grimacing and laughing at the pain the riders took. We stood side by side watching Tina Turner, Cher, Kiss, Elton John, The Rolling Stones, indoor moto-cross, numerous boxing events, and more stage performers than I can remember. Oddly, just last month I'd told myself I needed to call him and catch up on old times. He also drank Coca Cola and never Pepsi. I never did....
Today I heard of his death. I called and spoke to a another friend who was Dave's assistant. I learned that he had serious cancer but he had told no one. Not his family - including his wife - or his fellow workers. My first thought was how brave he was to face a terminal illness alone like that. No one but he could prepare him for what he knew was the finality of it. I wondered if I could do that. He must have had a good reason for keeping it to himself, I can respect that.
http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/lvrj/obituary.aspx?n=david-austin&pid=135058329

It just rankles my cockles

The old Nisson Foodtown family run grocery store in Washington is closing, which made the Spectrum, St George's daily newspaper.... front page news. Interviewed in the store was 100 yr old Barbara Sherratt, a Washington resident."I needed some bananas and I see they don't have any left, so I have to go elsewhere, which rankles my cockles," Sherratt said. (I had to look this up - cockle is a weed, not to be confused with weed.) Haven't hear that before and got me thinking. A few sayings I have heard but aren't used much anymore: "Madder than an old wet hen." "You won't learn more than that farther up the river." "He walks like hes got ants in his britches." Britches? "Slower than molasses in January." Then there's: "Colder than a witches.....ah, never mind, there's way too many to list here. More than a bushel and a peck, fer' sure.

Aaaah, the good ole days before new meanings have attached themselves to various words. Cool has become Kewl, is being used extensively as in the 60's. I'm fine with this. (or is it fine wid dis?) But I get all discombobulated when I try to think of all the newly created words now in use. BLOG wasn't even a word when I was born let alone when Barbara Sherratt was. To quote the infamous, Erma; "Don't get me started."

Coon skin hats

Have you ever strolled through a store with no particular item(s) in mind to buy, you know, 'just looking around,' and then suddenly see something you can't live without? You realize it is the perfect gift for someone, or in my case on Saturday in the St George Outdoor Sports Emporium, I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw these coon skin hats for kids on a display rack. I said to myself (I was alone and I talk to myself) "The Monkey Boys will love these!"

It's a new generation; they didn't know what they were when I handed them each a bag to open with their hat in it. They hadn't grown up watching Davey Crockett like I had. Too much Sponge Bob Square Pants.

But they quickly found fun wearing them... I'm sure the novelty will soon wear off and these will be just two more materialistic items joining other similar unused toys, lost socks and spare game pieces under a bed, in the closet or who knows where. But I had fun buying them and seeing them wearing them. Bruster loves to chase them biting at the tail. (last two bottom pictures)

Davey Crockett never looked this good.

Sing along if you know the Davey Crockett song. Too bad he died in the Alamo. . .

Sunrise, Sunset

Looking at a picture of a sunrise or a sunset, unless you know what coast it’s on, you can’t tell which it is. However, looking at our own lives, it’s easy to see what we are.
Watching The Spoken Word this morning ~a weekend So Utah perk for me :-) ~ one of their numbers was Sunrise Sunset from Fiddler on the Roof. The words and meaning were especially moving to me as I’ve seen my own sun setting slowly. (Well, I hope its setting slowly; and how late in the afternoon is it?) I see all those younger folks who were a part of my life; my four perfect children, nieces and nephews, young ward members & prior scouts - I can relate to the words in this song: “I don’t remember growing older, when did they?” Now I can ad grandchildren to the picture, albeit, it seems I’m so much more attune to their aging than it seems I was with my own kids when they were younger. I remember a few milestones in their lives; the day they started school, a baptism, getting their driver’s license, (and taking it away) high school proms, graduation and marriage, but how come it went by so fast? Was I too involved in the day-to-day routine to enjoy the moment? I used to joke that my life consisted of work, church and home. Somewhere in there, the years passed and all these youngsters have grown older, busy in their own lives. My sunset has become more apparent to me. And, NO, I'm not being melancholy and sad, it was just merely a thought I'd share. Isn't this one reason why we blog? I guess I need to live on the beach….would you believe a backyard pool with a beach-like edge? Enjoy your lives.

To put your mouth in gear . . . .

I heard this on NPR (National Public Radio) this morning: the actual speed has now been calculated that shows how much time it takes for us to put our mouths in action after a thought comes to mind. A new scientific study now proves the time from a thought to actually speaking is about 1/2 a second, or more precisely .06 of second. too read more go to the full story > (http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=113834285)

No wonder I've said stupid things before. This explains a lot. There's simply too little time to allow the "other" thought of not saying something to over-ride the first thought, hence, the first words out have priority. This may be one reason I like the saying, "Sometimes the best response is to say nothing." This has actually helped me a few times while interviewing subjects at work....they feel the need to fill this silence with words they didn't chose wisely. :) To give you a basis to relate to in the terms of this .06 of a second, I did a little research (very little) and found the eye lid blinks much faster, 5/10ths of a second, but it has a more important job protecting the eye from injury and wipes it clean of dirt particles. The mind is an amazing organ!

Over the bridge and

on to the green. I'm smiling because I'm on a golf course....not because I played particularly well, although I hit some good shots, I'm not in contention for the pro-circuit. It's not everyone who can skip their golf ball over a water hazard like a flat rock when you're on a camp out. Or hit a line drive 150 yard 7 iron over a sand trap as your ball rolls within 6 feet of the pin. This particular 9-hole section of Sun Brook in St George is called Wood Bridge, not hard to see why.
Dear Santa, I'll need some new golf balls soon. (not all balls skipped across the water hazard) Thanks to Mark for taking me with him, I'm now hooked on this game.

The Real Story

http://www.lasvegassun.com/news/2009/oct/07/removal-debris-clark-county-spurs-angry-response/

Apparently I was correcto-mundo about the photographer on this character's roof being a reporter. The wonderful Las Vegas Sun newspaper gave the guy his much desired publicity. If you read the article, his statement of contention, saying he disagrees with the county ordinance, kinda sums it up. "I'm right and everyone else is wrong." Yup, the jail and prisons are full of these type folks. There has to be a parable or analogy that applies to this ideology. . . ?

The First Amendment at work

Here's a house I'd included in a prior post of "ugly homes" in Vegas. It caught my attention today when I noted three cop cars out front of this palatial estate on Wishing Well Rd. (No, I didn't intrude and ask them their reason for being there.) I returned with camera and noted another photographer, on the roof with who I assume was homeowner. My guess is, he's a photographer for a local newspaper. Read all about it Tuesday 10/6/09?

In reading his hand-painted messages on his surrounding block wall and plywood sheets attached to his roof, it seems he may feel he had Clark County Zoning Dept's prior approval to add the creative, albeit, hideous and nefarious objects to his home. I noted in each passing month, it became more grotesque. Some neighbor may have had enough, and not agreeing with this guys' definition of ART, decided to file a complaint. Kudos to him! (the complainant, not this homeowner)

He even posed for me, but took down both hands in the air that had displayed the Rock-On symbol, just before I took the picture. It was definitely two fingers from the opposite end of each hand and it wasn't a peace sign! He yelled something, but I couldn't hear it from my place in the street. His spelling caught my eye on a few signs; as in harasing in lieu of harassing. I believe in the saying, "When we seek to find weakness in others, we only expose our own." (or words to this effect) Wait, isn't this what I'm doing here? Oh well, a little light-heartedness is food for the soul. From my experience, I'll bet he has seen the inside of a jail cell and stood before a judge on more than one occasion; call me crazy. . . . . but he displays his personality all too well.

St George pool night with cousins

As with every get together, there's the cousin-beauty queens watching the action.

And there's those who are the action.

And another beauty queen who can't decide if she wants to be part of the action.

And, the steadfast, traditional grandma, sister, aunt, sister-in-law host for this gathering. (thanks, Linda!)

And, The Monkey boys in on their own action.

And, little Payton getting ready to do her part.

Well, you gotta eat first!

Or, you can remain inside and choose not to participate. To each his own, just leave me alone!