This morning a strange incident took place in my neighborhood.  Stanger than normal!  LOL

Today was the day that Goodwill was schedule to pick up bags of used clothing for the homeless and for their thrift stores.  The first incident happened when two Mexicans came by and threw our 3 bags in their car and took off.  The neighborhood immediately went to Red Alert!  About one hour later, two Vietnamese women drove up and began checking other bags.  My neighbor Tom (redneck #2) and I confronted them and they began screaming at us, in that shrilly voice that they have, and said they were ‘only looking’.  Right!! 

About that time, the two Mexicans returned and Tom, brave soul that he is, forced them to stop.  In the meantime, I took pics of their license plates.  That just made the Vietnamese more angry.  So as Tom and I confronted them and kept them busy, his Mom called the police.  Two squad cars pulled up, I showed them the photos and the police took them away.  Later in the day their cars were impounded.  Oh, by the way!  The Vietnamese drove a Lexus and the Mexicans a BMW!!  Wonder how they can afford those cars? The police officer said this happens all the time but rarely get caught.  There were a dozen neighbors out there!!  Yea neighborhood!!  Just not right stealing from the homeless!!  My neighbors might be goofy at times but we DO stick together!!

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I had to buy a new mouse.  I went online to Dell and they had the one I wanted for $25 so I ordered it.  After 10 days I went to their site to check on my order status.  Well, Dell decided to discontinue that model so they cancelled my order!!  Of course, they couldn’t let me know.  So I went online to WalMart and found the exact same model for $12.98!  I went to Wally World (2 blocks away) and found it.  Only difference was, It was now $9.98!!!  It’s a Great Logitec, corded, optical one that works very smoothly.  When I got home I opened the package and out fell the ‘Installation Instructions.  It was a huge fold-out sheet written in eight languages.  It said, ‘Step 1.  Insert cord into you USB port’s. There was no step 2!  LOL!!  Way to kill a tree!!! Surprisingly, it didn’t come packed in one of those plastic clamshell things….  Just cardboard.  Nice!

It’s FRIDAY!!!  YEA!!!!  I hope you all have a Wonderful weekend!!!!!  And since it’s the weekend, I thought I’d play something upbeat!  How about some Cajun??  Mary Chapin Carpenter!!!

Since I already told you about my uncle...

My Dad and Mom are both 88 years old.  Up until last year they were still very active but they seem to be going fast.  My mom, sister and I have always worried about him because up until a few years he would insist on climbing on he roof (2 story house) to perform repairs to the roof.  He never fell off but drove us crazy!  We would steady the ladder and she suggested holding a bedsheet to catch him.  Yeah…. Right!!

My sister lives fairly close to them and is trying to get them to move in with her but they resist.  I keep in close contact with Sis and yesterday she told me that she now has power of attorney, so that’s good.  I won’t go into detail but they are no longer able to care for themselves.  They won’t answer my calls and tried to chase my sister away the last time she visited.  They didn’t recognize her!!!  So Sad…

Anyhow, My dad served in the Navy on a Heavy Cruiser as a Radio man, fighting the Japanese.  One of his jobs (exploits??) was to climb the mast during a Typhoon to repair a wire…. 4 times!!  He hated it!  During boot camp, in Georgia, they were chicken every day and he never would eat it again.

My Mom and Dad were High School sweethearts and while he was in the Pacific she bought the house they currently live in, and I was raised in, for $9000!  When he came home, 9 months later, I was born!  Talk about not wasting time!!

Me at one year!!  LOL!!

Dad got a job at RCA and worked there for 50 years!  By the time he retired  ( he had to take the bus to work EVERYDAY!!) he had accumulated one week’s vacation per month!!!  Nice!! 

He has always been an honest, hard working man and provided for his family.  This is hard for me but you are all my friends.  Maybe I’ll post more soon.  I’m not taking this well….!

Later……………

Appropriate song today

My uncle John, my Dad’s younger brother, is and has always been my hero. 

At 16 years old he bought his first automobile, a 1928 Model A Ford roadster for $200.  The engine was in the back seat along with a bucket full of engine parts.  He put that darned thing together and drove it for 3 years.  One night during winter he parked in a puddle and it froze.  As he tried to drive off, the tires were torn off!!  lol!

He joined the Army at 19 and survived the Omaha Beach landing at Normandy.  He loves to tell stories, some tragic and some hilarious.  I’ll spare you the tragic ones.  In Italy in 1943, he was driving a motorcycle (which he ‘borrowed’) at night when he saw another motorcycle coming the other way so he moved to the right.  The other bike also moved so he moved left.  So did the other guy!  back and forth, back and forth!  At the last second my uncle jumped off his motorcycle and……..  It crashed through a storefront window that was reflecting his bike!!!  Yeah!  He got in trouble. lol!  He brought back a bunch of souvenirs including German helmets, boots, firearms and uniforms.  He wouldn’t say where he got them!! Ewwww!!  Also a K-ration can of Omaha Beach sand.

When he returned home he was shell-shocked.  One day he walked into the local drug store (the druggist was 4-F) and the druggist snuck up behind him and popped a blown up paper bag.  It took 4 men to pull my uncle off of him!!

He got a job with a local Ford dealership as a ‘body and fender man’.  He worked there for 30 years until he decided to open his own shop but this time, restoring old cars and showing them at car shows.  He won so many awards that they made him a judge.  He once restored a totalled Volkswagon Beetle but put the wrong year front fender on it so that the turn signal was 5” lower on one side.  His usual reaction?  “EH!!  They’ll never notice!” LOL!  Another time he fabricated his own ‘frame straightener” and used just a little too much force.  The car ended up being longer on one side!!!  Only about 6”!!!  LOL!

When Ford came out with their adjustable steering wheel, you know... flip the switch and it moves up and down,  he had his helper get in to check out the interior and when he grabbed the wheel he said, "John!! You can sell this car!!  The steering is all messed up!".  My uncle, as usual said, "Eh!!  They'll never notice!".  LOL!!

Anyhow, like I said, My Hero and one of the funniest men I know!

I hope you enjoyed this and yes, he still restores cars at 80 something years old.

Chris Erskine again.  Funny story!! 

The web of summer: hot dogs, beer and those ubiquitous eight-legged friends

I've been giving it serious thought, and I'm pretty convinced spiders are taking over the world. Not that they wouldn't do a better job.

In the kitchen, there's a web running from the skylight to the stove. It glistens in the morning light, which leads me to think it's fresh. Fresher than most things in our kitchen.
In the yard, there are webs everywhere, mostly stemming from the giant magnolia tree. Trust me, there is no unemployment in the spider world.

"Spiders lay eggs on people and dogs," explains the 6-year-old, as we walk the 300-pound beagle through a web, hoping the spiders will take him. "The eggs hatch into black widows. You have to get them off."
There's no knowing what the little guy prays for each day in summer Bible school, but it probably involves spiders. Like me, he knows they are taking over the world.
And what a world they've inherited. Morally corrupt. Confrontational. Smart-alecky. Earlier today, the little guy takes a tube of sunscreen from his mother and tells her, "Thank you, my darling," then laughs like a little Jerry Lewis. Good luck, spiders. You'll need it.

Lately, our life seems a series of unfinished wars. On Tuesday, something snatched a tomato off the patio, and we found it in the elbow of an olive tree, 15 feet up. We know it was some kind of critter, probably a teenager. A thorough investigation is under way. They also stole some grapefruit.
"I'm furious," Posh says.
"I'm furious too," I say.
"Bite me," she says.
"Where?" I ask, and one of the kids walks in, spoiling the moment.

Anyway, it's been a summer of small pleasures -- root beer floats, a new garage door opener -- and small, psychological skirmishes.

We're at this 4-year-old's birthday party the other day, a splendid affair -- potato chips, hot dogs, the whole nine yards. I had been looking forward to it all week. It's rare that I get to be around children.
I find the dad, Will, out back, trying to light the grill. Will launches into this explanation of how he replaced the tank, and the new one didn't work, so he took it back to the store, where they gave him another tank, which still doesn't work.

"I know it's a new tank because I watched him switch it out," Will says
We attach the new tank, and it fires up immediately, making me look like a hero, when all I did was screw the tank on firmly, with forearms made strong from a lifetime of writing soft-core grocery lists for Posh. Plus, I do a lot of typing.
"How'd you do it?" asks Will's wife.
"Superior intellect," I say.
"Who'd-a suspected that?" says Posh, and everybody laughs.
So now we're at this party, the summer winds a-blowing hot and hard. It is the heat you feel when you open a car hood after a long drive. July heat. Like a furnace blanket around my brain.

At one point, they herd us to the frontyard for a game involving water balloons. Now, I don't know about you, but if a party doesn't have water balloons, I'm usually a no-show. Whatever the occasion, water balloons can make or break an evening.
"First, you catch the balloon, then you take a step back," says the hostess, a schoolteacher named Linda, using her (sexy) schoolteacher voice.
Catch, step back. Catch, step back. Those are the rules. We make it to the semifinals, the little guy and I, before he throws a water balloon that explodes all over my crotch. I've been married 27 years, so it doesn't really hurt like you'd imagine.
"Can we do that again?" I ask.
And then we had some nice cake.

HAH!

Hope your week has started out well!

Man killed at the Wedge in Newport Beach

Monte Kevin Valantin of Lawndale was flung onto a rock jetty at the renowned surfing spot. Waves at the site Friday exceeded 20 feet.

Monte Kevin Valantin of Lawndale was flung onto a rock jetty at the renowned surfing spot. Waves at the site Friday exceeded 20 feet.

The Orange County coroner's office has identified the man as 50-year-old Monte Kevin Valantin of Lawndale. He was thrown against the rock jetty that produces the Wedge's outsized waves about 12:30 p.m.
Newport Beach lifeguards pulled him aboard their boat and he later died at nearby Hoag Memorial Hospital, authorities said.
"There was a relatively small group of bodysurfers and boarders in the water," said Jim Turner, a Newport Beach lifeguard battalion chief. "On the shore, there were in excess of a thousand spectators."

A high-surf warning has been in effect for Southern California. Lifeguards along the coast reported a higher than average number of rescues Friday and were bracing for more of the same today and Sunday.
"We're advising all beachgoers to talk to lifeguards to find out where that safe place is to swim," said Orange County lifeguard Capt. Terry Harvey. "We are prepared for a busy weekend."
Despite its fierce reputation, the Wedge's lifeguard tower is generally shuttered. But on Friday, Turner said, lifeguards were on duty there and a patrol boat was stationed offshore.

"We knew it was going to be big all day," he said.
The physics of the Wedge have earned it an international cult following. Incoming waves carom off the rock jetty that protects Newport Harbor and slam into following swells. The result is giant tubes that thunder to shore at speeds reaching 30 mph.
The inexperienced get tossed around like rag dolls trapped in a commercial washing machine. Even experts who get sucked into the Wedge's steep break can be flung into the air or slammed into the shallow, sandy bottom.

"They have an exciting time and entertain thousands of people," Turner said.
Yet the Wedge, he said, is far from the most perilous beach in town.
The beach at Newport Pier, with throngs of children and inexperienced swimmers, keeps lifeguards running from rescue to rescue during the summer.
Deaths at the Wedge are rare.
"I can't recall the last one," said Turner, who has spent a career protecting people from the ocean. "The last fatality there was maybe 20 years ago."

BTW, the World Championship of Surfing is being held here this weekend.  NO THANKS!!!  The 'Wedge is notorious for HUGE waves!!  It takes alot of courage and little common sense to go in the water there!  These waves came from a storm in Tahiti.

Blake Shelton today.  Good one!

At Cronkite funeral, a friend, sailor -- and newsman -- is remembered

The anchor's personal adventures are more of a focus than his pioneering career during the service at St. Bartholomew's Church in New York.

After a week of being lauded as a journalistic icon, Walter Cronkite was remembered Thursday in more personal terms: as an exuberant sailor and a caring friend who was not afraid to show emotion.
Cronkite's friends and family shared their memories of the late CBS newsman at a New York funeral service at St. Bartholomew's Church that focused less on the anchor's pioneering career and more on his high-spirited nature.

Not only was he one of God's "great witnesses," said the Rev. William Tully, but he was "a mensch."
Cronkite, 92, died a week ago at his home in New York. He will be buried in Kansas City, Mo., next to his wife, Betsy.
Friend Mike Ashford said that whenever people used to ask him what Cronkite was really like, he would reply, "He's just the way you hope he is."

The two bonded over their love of the sea, although Ashford noted that sailing with Cronkite "was not for the faint of heart." As spray pelted the boat and the crew held on for dear life, Cronkite, "hunched over the helm, would catch my eye, grin, and holler 'Sensational!' " Ashford recalled.
"Walter was more than a crusty old sailor," he added, remembering the tears the newsman shed when his yellow Labrador retriever died. "He had an antenna sensitive to friends' pain. He knew the words to restore the fun, chase the worry and make things good again."

Cronkite's son, Chip, said the longtime CBS anchor "helped Americans on both sides of the political fence understand each other." But he thanked his father for the familial role he played, such as "saying to Mom as you passed her in the kitchen or the hall, 'Shall we dance?' and then taking her for a few turns around the room."

The sanctuary of St. Bartholomew's was packed with bold-faced names from the television industry who gathered to pay their respects to the man who imbued the anchor chair with influence. Evening-news anchors Brian Williams, Charles Gibson and Katie Couric were there, along with Diane Sawyer, Dan Rather, Tom Brokaw, Matt Lauer, Meredith Vieira and Barbara Walters and a host of television executives.

Longtime friend and CBS colleague Andy Rooney was overcome as he stood up to eulogize Cronkite.
"I just feel so terrible about Walter's death that I can hardly say anything," Rooney said. "He's been such a good friend over the years. Please excuse me, I can't."
Former CBS News executive Sanford Socolow said Cronkite was "always a wire service reporter in his heart," living by the adage "Get it first, but get it right."
Still, the great anchor had his quirks. Socolow noted that there were "aspects of Walter that would drive anybody crazy," recalling the time that he decided to ad lib the newscast without a script, a chaotic experiment that lasted two days.
And he said Cronkite's mispronunciation of the word "February" drew so many viewer complaints that they would make him practice saying it for the last week of January, to little avail.
But it was Cronkite the sailor who was invoked most often throughout the service.
"In yachting terms, Walter Cronkite would be called a 'one-off,' " said friend Bill Harbach. "He was absolutely an original."

A few days before Cronkite died, Harbach said he sat by his bedside and read him the poem "Sea-Fever" by John Masefield, changing it to the second person as a farewell to his old friend. He recited it in the stillness of the church:

You must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all you ask is for a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's sing and the white sail's shaking,
And the grey mist on the sea's face and a grey dawn breaking.

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Last female Country artist for the week.  Jennifer Nettles of Sugarland.

Have a GREAT weekend!

I had to make up for yesterday’s sad post so here goes!

This is my other late Sheltie, Beatrice...

This morning, I woke up & kissed my dad's head.
I peed on the carpet, then went back to bed.
"The life of a puppy, oh my, this is great."
Then I thought about breakfast," I hope it's not late.

"Mom took me outside, we walked for a while.
This never fails to make Mama smile.
I sniffed of everything, that we did pass,
I ate something weird - it gave me gas.

I'm sure God loves me, I know that is true.
He gave me so many great things to chew.
Rugs, plants or rocks, I really don't care.
What I truly like best, is Dad's underwear.

 
That obedience book, was sort of yummy.
Though it didn't sit well on my poor puppy tummy.
I threw up a bit, but that was all right,
When Mom found it later, I was well out of sight.

 
I made streamers of T.P., while running at full speed.
Mom is pretty quick-but I was still in the lead.
I flew under the bed, and Mom flew past,
She stopped-shook her head, and breathed, "You're too fast."

 
Mama later phoned Daddy, and said, "It was frightening!"
That afternoon, she was sure I'd pooped lighting.
She'd sat at the computer, while I chewed the cord,
She thought I was mad, but I was just bored.

 
When Mama had enough, couldn't take anymore,
That's when my tushy got shoved out the door.
I love it inside, but outside is best.
Lay in the cool grass, and had a good rest.

That didn't last long, there was too much to do-
Can't quite remember where I hid Daddy's shoe.
I found an old bone, and scratched at a flea,
I watched the dumb squirrels as they jumped in a tree.

I barked at the kids, when they got off the bus.
I can't figure out why this makes Mama fuss.
I barked at the neighbor, I barked at the wind.
I barked and barked, till Mom yelled, "COME IN."

 
The sun dipped in the west-soon Daddy would come!
I sure love my daddy: we always have fun.
I barked at my daddy, then turned on my charms,
I woo-wooed, "Hello," then jumped in his arms.

 
Sitting under the table - it's sooo hard to wait.
Daddy slipped me a goodie right off his plate.
I raced through the house, and scattered my toys,
Ricocheted off the furniture, and made lots of noise.

 
Mom found her purse - the one I abused.
Daddy let loose a chuckle. Mom asked "Amused??"
I cowered down low, I must be in trouble.
Dad said, "Wasn't MY boy, it must be his double!"

 
Mom turned off the TV, and said,"Time for bed."
Dad said "Let's go boy," and patted my head.
I got in my spot, between Mom and Dad,
I thought 'bout my day and what fun I had.

 
Mama kicked out my bone from the covers below,
Then let loose a sigh-a sigh deep and low.
She gave me a kiss, and snuggled me tight,
And whispered so softly,
'My darling goodnight'.

Better, Huh??

Continuing on, Jodie Messina!

Weekend coming up!!!  Take care!

You will need a tissue or two….. Sorry, but I had to post this.

 
When I was a puppy I entertained you with my antics and made you
laugh.  You called me your child and despite a number of chewed shoes and a
couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend.  Whenever I
was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?" -- but
then you'd relent and roll me over for a bellyrub.

 
My housetraining took a little longer than expected, because you were
terribly busy, but we worked on that together.  I remember those nights of
nuzzling you in bed, listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I
believed that life could not be any more perfect.  We went for long walks
and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone
because "ice cream is bad for dogs," you said), and I took long naps in the
sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.

Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career,
and more time searching for a human mate.  I waited for you patiently,
comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you
about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you
fell in love.

She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" -- still I welcomed her into
our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her.  I was happy because
you were happy.  Then the human babies came along and I shared your
excitement.  I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I
wanted to mother them, too.  Only she and you worried that I might hurt
them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog
crate.  Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love."

 
As they began to grow, I became their friend.  They clung to my fur
and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes,
investigated my ears and gave me kisses on my nose.  I loved everything
about them and their touch -- because your touch was now so infrequent --
and I would have defended them with my life if need be.

 
I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret
dreams.  Together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway.
There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you
produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me.
These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject.  I
had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every
expenditure on my behalf.

Now you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and
they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets.  You've made
the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your
only family.  I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the
animal shelter.  It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness.

 
You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good
home for her."  They shrugged and gave you a pained look.  They understand
the realities facing a middle-aged dog or cat, even one with "papers."  You
had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No,
Daddy!  Please don't let them take my dog!"  And I worried for him, and
what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about
love and responsibility, and about respect for all life.  You gave me a
goodbye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my
collar and leash with you.  You had a deadline to meet and now I have one,
too.

 
After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your
upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home.
They shook their heads and asked, "How could you?"

They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy
schedules allow.  They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago.
At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it
was you -- that you had changed your mind -- that this was all a bad
dream... or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who
might save me.  When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for
attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a
far corner and waited.

 
I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day and I
padded along the aisle after her to a separate room.  A blissfully quiet
room.  She placed me on the table, rubbed my ears and told me not to worry.
My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a
sense of relief.  The prisoner of love had run out of days.  As is my
nature, I was more concerned about her.  The burden which she bears weighs
heavily on her and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood.

 
She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down
her cheek.  I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many
years ago.  She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein.  As I
felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down
sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured, "How could you?"

 
Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said, "I'm so sorry."
She hugged me and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to
a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have
to fend for myself -- a place of love and light so very different from this
earthly place.  With my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a
thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not meant for her.  It was
you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of.  I will think of you and wait
for you forever.

May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.  BTW, the photo is my old Sheltie 'Baker' who passed on three years ago...  He was 13 tears old.

I will make up for this tomorrow...

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Today's female Country artist is Pam Tillis. Daughter of Mel Tillis.  Beautiful song!

Yeah, yeah, it's Wednesday!! lol!

The Phillie Phanatic!!  LOL!! 

I was watching the Phillies dismantle the Cubs tonight and as usual, he did his ‘thing’!

He absolutely kills me, especially when he rides his ATV around the field and stops at the visiting team’s dugout and makes fun of them!!  They throw water and sunflower seeds at him but then that LONG tongue shoots out and he’s off!

He especially loves to go after the umpires!!  LOL!!!  I Love this one!!!

Now I’m not saying he isn’t a cross-dresser but he sure is entertaining!!

Here’s what WikiPedia has to say!

The Phillie Phanatic is the official mascot of the Philadelphia Phillies Major League Baseball team. A fat furry green creature that somewhat resembles a bird from the rear view with a cylindrical beak containing a tongue that sticks out. He was created by Harrison/Erickson of New York City (now known as Acme Mascots), who have had ties with Jim Henson's Muppets and the team's marketing and promotions department during the winter after the 1977 season by a young executive named Dennis Lehman, who thought that the team needed a mascot similar to San Diego's Famous Chicken. Instead of a number on the back of his uniform shirt he wears a star.

• He ritually taunts the visiting team, dancing provocatively in front of their dugout, and smashing or stomping on an object, such as a batting helmet, representing the team.
• Standing on the roof of the Phillies dugout, he leads the crowd in attempts to "hex" the opposing pitcher, which led to the short-lived "Whammy Hand" used in the 2007 National League Division Series against the Colorado Rockies.
• Occasionally he takes pitching practice in the bullpen. This is announced on the stadium video screen.
• During pre-game practice, he has been known to steal fielders' gloves and throw them to fans.
• The Phanatic had a favorite umpire in the late Eric Gregg, and would greet him enthusiastically on the field when Gregg was in charge.
• He sometimes shoots hot dogs into the stands using the Hatfield Hot Dog Launcher.

But his favorite target was always Tommy Lasorda of the L A Dodgers!!  Lasorda would get so angry that he would go after him!

Los Angeles Dodgers manager Tommy Lasorda famously assaulted the Phillie Phanatic during a nationally televised game after the Phanatic stomped on a life sized dummy donned with Lasorda's uniform.

The Phanatic also has the dubious distinction of being the most sued mascot in sports. Most notably, the Phillies had to pay a judgment of $2.5 million to a man at a paint store event when the Phanatic jumped the patron with a rough-house bear hug, from which the man sustained serious back injuries.

The Phillie Phanatic's head disappeared from the Wachovia Center during the Phillies' Final Pieces charity sale and auction in 2004. Tom Burgoyne had taken off the costume for a break then found the head missing when he returned. One week later someone anonymously called a disc jockey, saying he found the head and that he would bring it to the radio station. Police arrested Bernard Bechtel, 37, of Whitehall Township, Lehigh County, after he brought the $3,000 head to the station. Bechtel was charged with felony theft.

"Phun Phacts"

• Height: 6.5 feet (2.0 m)
• Weight: 300 pounds (140 kg) (mostly fat)
• Waistline: 90 inches (230 cm)
• "Birthplace": Galapagos Islands
• Physical Defects: Overweight, clumsy feet, extra-long beak, curled up tongue, gawking neck
• Mom: Phoebe
• Best Friend: Phyllis
• Girl Friend: Adrian
• Favorite Foods: Soft pretzels, hoagies, cheesesteaks and Tastykakes
• Favorite Movie: Rocky
• Favorite Song: Motownphilly by Boyz II Men (and Take Me Out To The Ballgame, of course!)
• Most Memorable Moment: Riding down Broad Street in the 1980 and 2008 World Series Championship Parades
• Least Favorite Mascot: Mr. Met

So the next time you see  Phillies game on TV, check it out!!!

Videos!!    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6QaRDWByL9o

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As hard as Bonnie tried, she couldn’t keep up with me last night!

Payback time came this morning when I awoke to find her sleeping on my head!  I Really wish she wouldn’t do that!

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Today’s female Country artist is Carrie Underwood, along with Randy Travis, she of American Idol fame!

Have a GREAT Tuesday!!  See? I remembered what day it is!! 

This past weekend was truly a ‘lost’ weekend.  First I lost my cell phone and then my wireless modem went south (or north?).  So I spent the weekend watching baseball and Discovery Channel.  Pretty exciting, huh?

So, Saturday afternoon I decide to take a nap in the recliner.  I wake up and the clock reads 7:30.  Thinking that it’s SUNDAY morning, I drowsily walk outside to pick up the Sunday paper.  Nothing there!!!!  I did notice that it was kind of dark but I blamed the  clouds.  I phone the L A Times to request a replacement newspaper and they tell me that it’s too late.  Wait! 7:30 is too late?? I look outside and notice that it’s getting darker.  Then it ‘dawns’ on me….. It’s 7:30 on SATURDAY night!!  Now I’m totally screwed up and I will be all week.  I keep thinking that today is Tuesday, which is not altogether a bad thing!  So please do me a favor and keep reminding me what day it is!

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Another column from my favorite writer.  I hope you enjoy these.

Diving feet first into a pedicure

Chris Erskine
July 18, 2009

I was thinking the other day, while I was getting my toes done, that I need to get out of Los Angeles before it's too late, before I start frequenting spas or doing picnics at the Bowl on a regular basis. In about five years, L.A. is destined to become the first unisex city in America. As it is, they've got poor Joe Torre doing ads for green tea.
And I want no part of that. A real nation has two political parties and two distinct sexes, Sacha Baron Cohen not withstanding.
"Isn't this fun, Daddy?" my daughter says.
Can columns jump the shark? This one has. I am in some froufrou Pasadena nail salon with my daughter, cashing in on the Father's Day gift she gave me, a gift certificate for a full-bore pedicure. I shrugged it off for weeks after I got it, figuring it for a joke.
"How's tomorrow afternoon?" the little girl asked.
"Huh?"
"For the pedicure," she said.
"Um, I have a meeting."
"How about Wednesday?"
When she'd set up an appointment, I'd break it. Like most teenagers, my daughter has no idea exactly what her father does for a living, so it's easy to fool her into thinking I have lots of important meetings.
"Ten a.m. Tuesday," she finally said -- a statement, not a question.
"OK," I said, sensing tears.
So now I am in some pink and white nail salon in Old Pasadena. By the way, I don't know why they call parts of it Old Pasadena. From what I can tell, the entire city looks like Rome.
"Other foot," the nice foot therapist is saying.
"Do you serve ice cream here?" I ask.
She giggles.
"Because this looks like the sort of place that should serve ice cream," I say.
And it does. It has Lucite shelves and counters. It is very clean. Maybe it's a hospital.
"Do you take Medicare?" I ask.
She giggles again.

Seems clear I'm not going to get a straight answer out of the foot therapist. She is fixated on my feet, which is flattering. My wife, Posh, won't even look at my feet. When we're spooning in bed and my feet touch hers, she gets the willies, as if she just stepped on a possum. An hour in the shower and she is back.
Truth is, I have the face of a 12-year-old and Moses' feet. These little piggies have a million miles on them, and that's just from going to the fridge and back for beer.
They are a man's feet, the color of whiskey. Gnarly, notched with scars and calluses. Some places appear to have been burned with a blowtorch. The big toe on the starboard side looks like it's growing a nose.
And, honestly, my feet might be my nicest feature.
Booted, these feet have pushed over tree stumps, kick-started horses and motorcycles. Naked, these feet have stepped on catfish, scampered over barnacled boulders, collected 10,000 splinters on docks from here to Long Island. I swear, you could build a nice oak desk just from the splinters currently in my feet.
So maybe they deserve a little pampering. Best as I can recall, no one has ever touched these feet before today, except for the obstetrician on the day I was born. And the poor salesman, on the rare occasion -- every five years or so -- when I buy new shoes.
"Have you ever seen such beautiful feet?" I ask my daughter.
"No, Dad," she says, not looking up from her fashion magazine.
"Each toe a little pearl."
"Right, Dad."
"You're lucky you have my feet," I say.
"Shhhuuuuuush," she says, shushing me dead.
These are the things we do for our kids. We wake up every morning for 40 years and go off to work. We wait up for them at night, hold them when they cry, feed them soup when they are lovesick.
I have indulged every kind of trend, technology, rock group, hair style and cosmetic idiocy my teenagers have thrown my way.
I have said yes more than I have said no.
And now I am in a Pasadena nail salon, making the ultimate sacrifice. My first and final pedicure.
"Lavender?" the foot stylist says, holding up tubes of scented cream.
"Do you have root beer?" I ask.
"No," she says.
"Because I really like root beer."
"I have peach?" the foot stylist says.
Please help me God.

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As far as music this week, ALL female Country artists beginning with Trisha Yearwood.

Have a Great Tuesday!!  LOL!!

PS:  Saturday was Becky and my 28th wedding anniversary.  Here are the roses I got for her...

I feel GOOD and am looking forward to the weekend.  My neighbor (Redneck #2) is finally out of jail after 6 months due to a clerical error.  I have been saving recycled items for him so he had a load!!  He already has four job interviews scheduled so hopefully something good will happen to change his life.  I really like him! 

Remember this photo?

Hello Kitty Bike!!  LOL!

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I read this article in the newspaper today (yeah, newspapers still exist!) and just had to share it!

Zac Sunderland completes solo sail around the world

The 17-year-old from Thousand Oaks is the youngest sailor to complete the feat. The journey lasted 13 months.

By Pete Thomas
July 17, 2009

Toby Sunderland declared Thursday "Zac Day" in honor of his older brother -- and that it was.
Hundreds of admirers could not wait for Zac Sunderland, 17, to guide his 36-foot vessel into Marina del Rey on Thursday morning, completing a 13-month quest to become the youngest person to sail around the world alone.

So they formed a conspicuous armada that included skiffs, sailboats and yachts, and greeted the mariner offshore. There were lifeguard boats, police boats and news helicopters, which buzzed in a light fog that gave way to sunshine as the shaggy-haired adventurer rounded the breakwater.
Once ashore -- Sunderland's first steps as a figure of sailing lore -- he looked the way he generally has when reaching port: casual, as though he'd just returned from a Sunday cruise.
This despite the magnitude of what he'd accomplished: Fewer than 250 people have sailed solo around the world, according to the American Sailing Assn., whereas more than 300 people climbed Mt. Everest just this year.

Hundreds of people had lined the waterfront at Fisherman's Village. They clapped their hands and shouted, "You did it!" and at one point broke into a chorus of "God Bless America."
To be sure, if sailing is a pastime purely for the wealthy, that was not evident on this historic morning.
Sunderland, who departed Marina del Rey when he was 16 on June 14, 2008, not only broke a record held by Australia's Jesse Martin, who was 18 when he finished in 1999. He became the first person to solo-circumnavigate the planet before turning 18 -- a mark he'll never relinquish.
And he did this without major sponsorship on an older Islander sailboat named Intrepid, as one of seven Sunderland children who live in a modest Thousand Oaks home.
"I think society puts young people in a box -- people 15, 16, 17 -- and does not expect them to do much but go to high school and play football and stuff like that," Sunderland said. "This just shows they can do a lot more with some strong ambition and desire. My [advice] is to get out there and do your thing with all you got."
Beyond the media were throngs of "Zac Packers," fans who have followed the sailor's odyssey on his blog.
Among them was Wyatt Gardner, 9, a third-grader from Glendale, attending with classmates and their teacher, Kim Labinger.
"It's amazing to see how a 17-year-old can do all this in a year," Gardner said. "I wonder what his mom felt like when he was out there all alone, dealing with squalls, pirates and rocks and stuff."
Nearby was Joyce Rubin, who came from Studio City because she's also the mother of a 17-year-old.
"I can only cringe at the thought of what this must have been like for his parents," she said.
Laurence and Marianne Sunderland endured a lifetime supply of anxious moments, which included the time Zac was approached in the Indian Ocean by a mysterious-looking vessel that seemed sure to harbor pirates.
Zac used his satellite phone to call home, frantically, during his family's Sunday dinner. He was instructed by Laurence to load his pistol and "shoot to kill" if necessary.
The vessel, with its crew hidden, maneuvered directly into the sailor's wake before slowly veering away.
Sunderland, whose voyage spanned three oceans, five seas and twice led him across the equator, once spent 60 hours without sleeping, while trying to fix broken rigging in 15-foot seas and gale-force winds.
He endured brutally long windless periods while bobbing cork-like beneath a blazing sun, eating canned food and drinking nothing but tepid, desalinated water.

As he approached the Caribbean island of Grenada, during his crossing of the Atlantic, Intrepid was swamped by a monstrous rogue wave that struck at 2 a.m. as Zac, who was working on deck, hugged the mast to avoid being washed overboard.
"All I saw was this huge green wall," he said. "So I grabbed and hung on" as the boat rolled to one side and righted itself.

He also experienced exhilarating moments sailing effortlessly as one with the wind, often beneath a night sky aglitter with more stars than seem imaginable. He passed beneath brilliant rainbows spawned by ominous black squalls sweeping ravenously across the water.
The sailor praised the extremely tightknit global sailing community, which along with his shipwright father helped him fashion innumerable repairs.
Without this support -- Laurence said he has missed six months of work flying to far-flung ports to assist his son -- he could not have achieved his goal.

Unfortunately for Sunderland, however, a Brit named Mike Perham, who is a few months younger, embarked on a similar quest last November and is expected to complete his solo-circumnavigation, aboard a 50-foot racing yacht, in about three weeks.
Barring significant delay he'll become the youngest. Then there's Australia's Jessica Watson, 15, who is poised to begin a nonstop global quest later this summer, which might ultimately trump both boys' endeavors.
"There's always someone younger who's going to come along, and I'm fine with that," Sunderland reasoned, wiping hair from his face and smiling, seeming pleased just to be home.
He acknowledged that little of what he has accomplished has sunk in yet, and said he has no idea how the voyage might have changed him.
"Ask my friends in about a week," was his answer to the latter question, prompting laughter.
But there's little doubt that it has changed him.
Karen Thorndike, who 11 years ago became the first American woman to solo-circumnavigate the planet, said Zac will forever have this as his private secret.
"And the secret is, he's done something amazing," Thorndike said.
"There are no words to describe it and it's his secret. He did it. He found that energy; he found the strength; he found that knowledge.
"If he didn't already know it before he left, he learned it along the way. And that's the biggest thing you realize -- is that you don't have to know it all before you do something, as long as you can figure out how to learn how to do it."
As for Zac Day, Toby Sunderland, 11, was hopeful it'd involve cake, and he was not disappointed.

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For a teenager, what an experience and such courage!!!  His next goals??  Mount Everest and Antarctica!

I wish for you a Wonerful weekend!!  Get out there and have FUN!!

Bob~

This is Bonnie!  Who did you expect? 

I have a few bones to pick (get it??  Yeah, I didn’t think so!).  That idiot who forces me to call him Dad, screwed up and left me alone with his internet thing turned on.  I read what that stupid lug Buzz wrote yesterday.  Birthday, smirthday!!  He doesn’t even know how old he is!  He waddles around here like an old man… Just like dad!!  If Buzz really wants to know his age, I say cut him in half and count the rings!! 

Oh yeah!!  I DID get his treats, the big wimp!  And I took my sweet time eating them too!  Right in front of him!  Baxter just ran off, probably under the bed.  Right now I’m waiting for the street-sweeper to drive by so I can bark my cute head off!  If I could just get ahold of that &%!)*@$ guy, I’d show him!!  And he’s late today!!  He’s worse than the UPS guy, the mail person and that idiot trash collector combined!!  Oh wait!!  Here he comes…….!! Be right back!

I feel better now!  But while I was on this internet machine I found this that my Dad had sent to all of you…

And THIS!!

What the H*&% was he thinking?  He WILL pay!!  Anyhow peeps, I have to go.  I have a busy day, like beating up that wimp Baxter, harassing Buzz and seeking revenge against my human and napping on his pillow for hours!  He hates that.

Catch ya later, Bonnie

PS:  This is Bob.  I’m sooo sorry and I apologize for Bonnie’s post.  She has a mean streak that comes out once in awhile.  She’s napping somewhere now so I’d better check my pillow!  I’ll be back with my OWN post tomorrow and I’ll try to keep my dogs off of here!!

Take care!!

Hi Dad’s Friends!!

Dad did this to my hair!!!  Can you see how much I like it??

My Daddy said he is doing better but because today is my birthday and the 4th anniversary of my back surgery, he said that I could do a bloggy thingy for him.  I SO wish I had thumbs because this always hurts my nose. plus I keep slipping off of his stupid chair.

My Mom and Dad took such good care of me during my spine replacement surgery, plus they rescued me from the streets.  They were so kind, although I still have issues with roosters and UPS trucks.  All I wanted was a few chicken eggs!  As for the UPS trucks, I’m always on the lookout with my brother and sister.  And don’t forget the mail person!

Anyhow, so far I have received birthday greetings from all 1,615 of my friends on Dogster.com!!  Some of them are scary but not nearly as scary as Bonnie!!  I’m hoping to get some good treats tonight and that I can keep Bonnie from stealing them.  I’m such a pushover….

Also, since it’s my birthday, Dad said that I could pick out a song!!  I know what he listens to so here goes!  He likes that Brad guy!!

I really like you all ( or as Dad says, Y’all) and love your comments.  I’ll try to be back soon and I’m sure dad will too!

I have to go!  UPS truck!!!

Love, Buzz~~

I just love this guy's way with words!! 

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Still no glasses but I'm doing ok!   Billy Currington again tonight.  WARNING:  This one is REALLY Country!!!

Be kind and stay safe!

Please forgive me if I misspell some words but I have a problem.  I lost my glasses (latest prescription) 2 months ago and have been using my back-up glasses (2 years old ).  I had to Super Glue them together but they worked ok.  Yesterday a lens fell out and of course, I stepped on it!  I’m now down to either my 9 year old ones or my prescription sunglasses, neither of which are ideal.  Called my eye doctor this morning but she can’t take me until Friday!  NO WAY!!!  Anyhow, it looks as if my only option is WalMart!!  YIKES!!  They are checking to see if they take my wife’s insurance…. it varies month to month.  So for now I’m pretty much blind!  Drove to the store and luckily I made it back home but I have a splitting headache!!  Off to Wally World!

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Back from WalMart!!  ARRRGGH!!  Always an adventure!  Found frames that I like and since I had an eye exam done less than a year go, I’m going with the same script.  Cool frames!!  They called our insurance company (AETNA) and they said No Problem.  Well, there was a problem!!  They (AETNA) were supposed to cover 100% of the cost of the frames and 50% of the lenses.  The glasses cost $441 and they paid $98!!  Then I was told it would take 5 DAYS to get my glasses!  When I go back to pick them up there will be words!!  Mainly with AETNA!!  That’s AETNA INSURANCE COMPANY!!

Anyhow, Our WalMart has a McDonald’s (what a perfect match!) so I got something to eat.  Worst McDonalds EVER!!  But I did get to people-watch.  You NEVER want to snap photos in Wally World!! Could be dangerous!  What a scary bunch of freaks!!  Me included!!  LOL!  So now I’m stuck with these ‘blinders’ for 4 more days.  Hopefully I’ll be able to see by Friday…..

I had a difficult time choosing a song but I've always liked this one.  Especially the Banjo in the background,  Just enough!