Up Creek? No paddle?

Do you ever just have ideas that stick in your brain that won't go away? Even when you know actualizing them could get you in to big trouble? You still can't let go?

Well let's put that aside for just a minute okay?

We've been  visiting  my sister Brenda in the Oakland hills. That's her on your left chatting with one of her long time friends. See how she's smiling?

Well she has a great sense of  humor and a great laugh.

How do I know that?

Paul: "Hey Brenda, how's your sense of humor?"

Brenda: "Great, you know that!"

Paul: "Good! Then you can take a little humor at your expense?"

Brenda: "Bring it on mister!"

Some of you are going to see this before she does. I may need shelter.

Anyway, those of you who know Brenda, and even those who've just met her? You've seen that competitive streak. She needs to be "Top Dog" no matter what. And she'll swim that extra mile to make things happen.

[PLEASE PROCEED TO PICTURE # 2]

So Brenda just dives into the pool in front of us with all her clothes on. We all know how dangerous that can be. But Brenda  is preparing for competition. She knows no fear. She knows winning means working harder than any other competitor. She fully expects that when she pulls herself out of the pool? She WILL be wearing the crown!

Me here with my camera? I feel like a paparazzi with a printed invitation to the party. What a privilege to be allowed to  record this moment. The picture you're looking at now is just the tip of the iceberg. I may market the rest of the roll to one of the tabloids.

[We'll see what Brenda can come up with to hang on to the negatives.]

Let's ".cut to the chase"

[YOU ARE NOW ALLOWED TO PROCEED TO PICTURE 3]

I'm sure you can tell from the confident gait and the broad smile. She is victorious. No other competitor came even close. LET'S HEAR IT FOR BRENDA REINERTSON, WINNER OF THE CLASS OF '62 WET TEE SHIRT CONTEST. HERE SHE IS [sing along now] MISS CLASS OF '62 WET TEE SHIRT QUEEN.

(Come on Peggy. Quit snickering. I didn't see you in the pool.)

Anybody out there live in a compound where I can hide out a few days?

True Confession

""Okay."

We're at my sisters in Oakland. We were also here in 1991 a week after a  wind swept fire storm raced across the dry Oakland hills. Before it let up 25 people died, and 2500 families were walking the streets screaming, "We've lost everything!"

My sister Brenda was among them. I knew that right away because she called me on the phone in the news room? I tried to get the attention of the producers and news director, saying, " I think we got a story here!"

Well Brenda and Bill ended up in People Magazine and my news room? It ended up playing catch up for a week 'cause it wasn't listening that day. I remember quickly turning my attention to telling Brenda to "Get the Hell Out of There!"

She had time to grab a few pictures and (she's always loved them) a bunch of bananas before flames chased her down the hill.

I knew Bill was at work, Matt and Cyd were off to school, and I'd been talking to Brenda on the phone. So that's what was most important, right?

Here comes the confession. It's a guilt I've kept somewhat subterranean.

I was MOST worried about the bust you see up above. Don't know if it even has a title. I just discovered on this trip that she is the work of Berkeley sculptor, Lorraine Oller. [Nice work Lorraine]

[Brenda and Bill must have liked her too. Brenda tells me now that as they drove away from the ashes? They wondered , "what happened to the 'Oller' bust?" She was sitting in the front seat right between them.]

You can ask me why, but I'll never have a good answer for you. When I look at this bust I see Edna St. Vincent Millay. I see passion. I see rebellion. I see perplexity.

Okay, just look at her for a second and then listen to Millay:

"Love is not all. It is not meat, nor drink, nor slumber, nor roof against the rain, nor yet a floating spar to men who sink and  rise and sink and rise and sink again." "Love cannot fill the thickened lung with breath."  "... many a man is making friends with death, even as I speak, for lack of love alone.". "I might be driven to sell your love for peace. I do not think I would!"

Couldn't that pouty face up there say all those things? I've seen pictures of Edna. Her nose is bigger, the hairdo looks similar? But there's no literal match. But the eyes drifting off into an imaginary sunset? Then you've got twins.

Well, that's my true confession for what it's worth. I'm just glad the oldgirl is still around.

[UPDATE: She's been cloned. Brenda has had the Oller re-done in bronze. And she's thinking about having some more copies made. Wondering what to get me for my birthday?]

Fishy Tales

Peggy and I have been out reconnecting with some places and faces and finding some new friends. One of them you see up top.

I want to call him Oscar. We meet at Morro Bay where a good number of our old pals are sea otters. The otters tend to be real showy, and standoffish, but Oscar, the harbor seal? He just likes to pose and chat.

And it should be camera clear, he loves the spot light. Every time we try to walk away? He barks out another knee slapper. And the gleam in his eye, and that mustache? Wow! I'm told the ladies love it.

We meet a lot of pelicans, gulls, cormorants, and turkey vultures? They all have a lot to offer. But Oscar! What a guy!

What do you say Oscar? Want to SEAL it with a kiss.

A Bird in the Hand

I have absolutely no pride in the picture above, but tons of self praise for the deed that preceded the photograhic embarassment.

I'm going to tell you the truth. In the years I've been on the planet? I may be able to count twenty incidents where I've performed good deeds, and then , with a "HOWDY HI HO SILVER," just faded into the woodwork and smiled in silence .

I mean we are talking some really dramatic life saving rescues. Those tales will remain untold. But today, for some reason, I just can't keep my mouth shut.

I HELPED SAVE A BABY BIRD. I  HELPED SAVE A BABY BIRD.

We're at Rhonda and Mark's place (stepdaughter and husband). They are getting ready to leave for the store. I hear some bird commotion out on the patio. I twist and see a little,  and I mean little, sparrow , trying desperately to flap it's wings.  It's MAMA shows up franticly looking for some miracle transport system that will take JUNIOR  back to the nest.

While I've done quite a few bird rescue stories over the years, my personal experience with injured avian beasts?

As a youth I see our pet canary Tweety fly right into the mouth of the neighbor's dog. [Dog's name is Antigone.]

I watch a sharp shinned hawk pick a house finch out of the air. The hawk sits about ten feet away plucking the feathers off the little finch as if preparing a turkey carcass for the holidays. 

Often these days, fledgling vegan birds fly full throttle into our picture window and suffer fatal brain injuries.

I pick them up by their spindly little feet and? One way or another I return them to the earth from whence they came.

I'm no bird apologist wimp. Nature will take it's  course. But just once I'd like to see a happy ending.

Mark and Rhonda know the thrill of bird rescue. They've rushed three of their little injured flying friends to shelter. I'm jealous.

So I'm scrambling around looking for a box to put  the little guy in. Well, whilst the box search is underway, the little sparrow takes a hike. Mark and Rhonda head out and I'm left "holding the box."

Suddenly out of the corner of my left eye I see some patio movement. With box in hand I rush to the scene, and ignoring it's THWEEP, THWEEP, I gently pick up the panicked bird with a paper towel? I gently lower it's near weightless form into the box.

My naivete sets in. Mark and Rhonda were planning on soaking some dry dog food in water to feed the little guy. I do that? Put some on the end of my finger?  And say to the bird, "HERE!"

Mark and Rhonda return and I learn the soft dogfood needs to be stuffed down a syringe? Then you tap the bird on the end of it's beak? It opens up, and you shove it in. What a thrill!

Well now the little guy's THWEEPS, THWEEPS  are growing in energy and frequency. We put him in a car ambulance and race across town to deliver him to a rescue group that says it won't send our friend off to bird heaven.

At the shelter I bull my way into the back to see how other injured birds are being treated. I am quickly booted out by some officious bird person.

Well that's mostly the end of the story. It's out of our hands now. The outcome will only be known by the bird brains we've left him with.  He may be only released to be devoured by a sharpshined hawk.  Maybe he'll be Antigone's lunch.  But please, don't tell me about it.

Why? Cause I HELPED SAVE A BIRD!

Mindless

Everything comes full circle, doesn't it?

I remember being told by parents and authorities to give wide berth to a man or women walking down the street talking to him or herself. 

Counter to that advice? On some adventurous days I approach and add my voice and attention to a few of these conversations. I learn a lot about how the government plants transmitters in brains so it can control the thoughts and actions of some special people. I learn over time that, for the most part ,these people are harmless?

Then all of a sudden we are all at an airport listening to all sorts of personoids just chattering away with no other human being in close physical proximity? With a better angle we see they tend to be holding something up to their ears.

 They are talking on the phone!

Or are  they? You never really know for sure who is looney, and who ain't. And now with these little itty bitty earpiece phones? It's even tougher to sort out the insane from the almost insane. And with so many people seemingly self conversive? They are not all harmless.

[ Peggy and I have a shared theory. We think there is an inverse proportional relationship between the volume at which a person talks to herself, and the liklihood there really is someone on the other end of the line.]

Well I bring all this up because I'm driving down the street? Something catches my peripheral vision. It's a man with his lips moving at the pace of an automatic mail sorting machine? He is flailing his arms in the air like an evangelistic preacher.  He is probably on the phone with his boss defending some accounting error he is being blamed for? But as I turn the corner I see he has no phone. And on alternating sentences he is totally changing his posture and clearly talking to his alter ego.

How refreshing. It's a genuine," honest to goodness," out of focus human being.  No games, No agenda, No harm, No foul. I want to stop the car right here in traffic and go join the conversation. But, alas, it isn't practical.

So we are at beakfast? Peggy is having trouble making a menu choice? The waitress on her fourth trip to the table says, " Aaaare you READY to order YET?"

Peggy: " I'm sorry, but I just can't make up my mind?"

Paul. "Here! Borrow mine!" 

I'm hungry.

 

Invitation

When you don't force it? There is almost always light at the end of the tunnel.

Lerner and Loewe write, "I talk to the trees. They don't listen to me."

Hey guys, I beg to differ.

Squawk

Some of my friends are out in the World now! Check a few of them out!

Congratulations to Matt, and Kirsten, and Brandy, and Amora too!

The World will be different with all of you.

Well I'll Be!

.....A rose may be a rose, may be a rose, may be a rose. But a tree?"

What else might it be to you in [PICTURE 2]?

And if we HUNT for what else it might be in [PICTURE 3]?

Is that a BISON of YORE in [PICTURE 4]?

WE'll EXLORE THIS BOREAL WONDER NO MORE!

 

"Eye of Newt"

Somebody get his keys! Let's make sure he doesn't drive anywhere.

May Noel?

I can safely tell this story now.

My neighbors have finally taken down these Halloween displays they've had in their front yards? They're my heroes. You see our Homeowners Association? These funny people send out a notice every year that all outdoor Christmas Decorations? They have to be disassembled by January 15th or else. I forget what the ELSE is...something slightly short of beheading.

But hey, they didn't say anything about Halloween?

Well, I took a little different rebellious approach. And I didn't want to implicate my neighbors who might not want to combine their statements with mine.

So, anyway I'm pretty sure some sort of amendment says they (THE HOA) can't burst into my house and tell me how I can decorate the front room.

I'm not sure my protest has had it's intended impact, so I guess I'm just going to tell you about it. .

A few of you have visited, maybe noticed, but politely said nothing. The rest of you just didn't stop by. SO! NOTE THE DATE OF THE NEWSPAPER IN PICTURE ONE. JUST A FEW DAYS AGO, RIGHT?

NOW GO TO PICTURE 2. Uh, huh! Our Christmas tree, lights, decorations, tinsel, you name it, are all still up in the front window.

I'm telling you all this because Peggy has been looking at the tree? And then twisting her neck so that her nose is pretty much perpendicular to mine? And then rotating that pretty little face of hers back and forth?

I don't know for sure, but I think maybe she's saying the protest is about to come to an end?

Even at my age I know few things for sure. I do know that if any ONE person has more power than the HOA?  It's Peggy.

no it's not cuz i'm lazy!

FINALLY

It's FINALS week.  Students can be a little tough to read this time of year. Right before the final they can be so sweet? Just LOOK at those SINCERE smiles in picture # 1.

 

Of course....then there IS  the FINAL...and GRADES TO FOLLOW: SEE PICTURE # 2.

 

JUST THINK HOW MANY WORDS I SAVED WITH THOSE TWO PICTURES.  'Nuff Said? 

Write this way!

.....I'm pretty sure you can't get there from HERE on Eucalyptus.

What a Stretch?

FEEL THE BURN! NOW, let's hold it....ONE, TWO, THREE, release. WOW!"

That's It?

"From my earliest memory, I've always tried to be a man of few words!"

Wink

Do you SEE ME?"

Not!

Is You? 

See pictures 2 and 3.

I don't think so!"

Sympathy

I haven't seen you since the breakup!"

"Ah! I See!"

You need to get away from everybody and everything."

Hey! Wait Up!

[NEIGH...AYYYY] At least HOLD your horses!"

Pupil Prose

"It's 500 for! 1 against! [KAPLANGGGG] The EYES have it!"

 

cozy

"Some things just are."

"Are what?"

"JUST are."