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!

Best friends - we should all have one!

Unbelievable

How is it we can not eat somewhere for months and then hit the place two weeks in a row?
Cheesecake Factory. Yet, another time where a picture is worth a thousand words.