Monday Meanderings 11.29.10

Thanksgiving has come and gone, and it was a fine, family-filled week. We shared the experience of being all together once again, and marveled at how the grandchildren have grown since last we saw them. We enjoyed many good things to eat, and Jana, Luke and Barb ended up chasing down a homeless person on Thanksgiving day in order to share some of our turkey and fixings.

Friday evening we drove out to the house of a young couple from church to see their lights. He decorates and lights houses professionally and had his house and yard covered in lights all rigged to blink in time to the music. It was very, very impressive - as well done as any example I've seen on the Internet.

And we watched UP - a movie I had wanted to see since it came out. I expected to cry - I'd had warnings to that effect. I didn't expect to be blind-sided as to the reason why.

Rob and Luke (and the rest of his family in varying degrees) have been active in the increasingly popular adventure of geo-caching. For those that don't know, geo-caching is a form of treasure hunting that uses clues and navigation to find "treasures" cached, or hidden by others. In it's simplest form, the finder simply adds his name to the list hidden in the cache container. There are many additions and variations from the simple version.

This past week Rob acquainted the rest of us to this activity. We went to a nearby greenbelt and used GPS coordinates to navigate to two cache locations; We (speaking inclusively, here) found one of the two caches. I might have to revisit the location of the one that eluded us. And there is one on a guard rail just a block away that I might have to go check out. Hmmmm.

And for all my friends that went deer hunting this weekend, perhaps this is why you didn't bag one:

He's back!

The beginning of  Bob the Dog's adventures can be found here.

The other evening, on the way back from The Home Depot out on on IH35, we stopped by Fresh Cup Yogurt.  I'm enjoying my cup of Bananas and Strawberry piled high with healthy fresh fruit, looking out the window at all the traffic on the back entrance to Wal Mart. Gradually it dawns on me that all this traffic is focused on the big field between Fresh Cup and the Golden Corral, which is normally nothing but a sea of grass but now boasts a very large tent and row after row of automobiles. Hmmm. Must be a carnival or maybe a circus or something.

Then I saw the sign.

Tent Revival and Healing Service Tonight! 

Reverend Bob - Evangelist and Healer

You don't suppose... surely not! I turned to Barb to say something and she's looking at me with alarm in her eyes. She is thinking the same thing I am.

"I'm going over there," I say.
"I'm staying right here," she says.

I walked over to the tent, swept up in a stream of people headed that direction; little old ladies, couples with kids, a flotilla of wheel chairs and a forest of crutches and walking canes. I push my way into the tent and take up a position in the back, against one of the poles. On the stage a band is playing "I'll Fly Away" and I'm pretty sure it's the guys from the Back Yard Howlers, only now they are wearing choir robes.

Bob is nowhere in sight but in a few minutes, the band starts in on a spirited rendition of  "Onward Christian Soldiers" and a Great Dane, who I think is Leroy, the bass player for the Howlers, takes the mike, begins a flowery introduction and sure enough, out comes Bob the Dog in a gold lame outfit so gaudy everyone in the first 2 rows had to put on dark glasses. Or maybe that's where all the blind people were seated.

Bob takes the microphone and starts working the crowd while the band is playing "Power in the Blood" softly in the background. I have to give him credit. The dog is good. He started out slow, in a melodic baritone - just a hint of the Australian accent and no slang - and gradually built up to a crescendo.

"In the hustle and bustle of daily life I wonder how many of us stop to think that in all that is highest and best we are ruled not by even our most up-and-coming efforts but by Love? What is Love--the divine Love of which the great singer teaches us in Proverbs? It is the rainbow that comes after the dark cloud. It is the morning star and it is also the evening star, those being, as you all so well know, the brightest stars we know. It shines upon the cradle of the little one and when life has, alas, departed, to come no more, you find it still around the quiet tomb. What is it inspires all great men--be they preachers or patriots or great business men? What is it, mates, but Love? Ah, it fills the world with melody, with such sacred melodies as we have just indulged in together, for what is music? What, my friends, is music? Ah, what indeed is music but the voice of Love!"

I'm impressed. That part about "love is the morning and evening star" is, is... Familiar. I've heard that before, I just can't remember where. By this time the band is playing "Shall we gather at the River" and Bob has moved through the body of his sermon and into the exhortation.

"Oh, my brothers,  are you going to put off repentance till it's too late? That's your affair, you say. Is it? Is it? Have you a right to inflict upon all that you hold nearest and dearest the sore burden of your sins? Do you love your sins better than that dear little son, that cherished daughter, that loving brother, that saintly old mother? Do you want to punish them? Do you? Don't you love some one more than you do your sins? If you do, stand up. Isn't there some one here who wants to stand up and help his brother or sister carry this gospel of great joy to the world? Won't you come? Won't you help me? Oh, come! Come down and let me shake your hand!"

And before he's through, people are trampling each other to get down the aisles!

I left before the healing service began, and on the way back to Fresh Cup, I remembered. Elmer Gantry!  Sophomore English. The whole thing - every word - is straight out of Elmer Gantry!

Oh, Bob! Now you've really done it.

...Oh yeah! This will be continued.

The mystery album

 During the great carpet caper we unloaded all the albums and CDs from the very heavy entertainment center. During the put-back, Barb came across a mystery album - a set of four 78rpm records in a generic binder.

First, maybe I need to explain what a 78rpm record is, for the younger set. Um... maybe I need to start by explaining what a record is. You know, those things that provided music before CDs. You do remember CDs, don't you? Okay, I'll just say that 78s are very old technology. One song per side, 3 minutes max. You played them on record players, devices where you stacked records up on a spindle.... Never mind.

Anyway, this album of 4 ancient-technology records showed up in our collection of LPs (which are themselves antiques). And we have no earthly idea where they came from. And the mystery deepens when you look at the artists and the songs.

Cal Tinney: "Life Gets Tee-Jus, Don't it?" and "I Wish I Had A Dad"
Jimmy and Leon Short: "Move It On Over" and "Kentucky"
Tex Williams: "Smoke, Smoke Smoke that Cigarette" and "RoundUp Polka"
Homer and Jethro: "I'm Moving On No 2" and "So Long No 2" 

I had to Google Cal Tinney and the Short brothers; Tex Williams and Homer and Jethro I was familiar with. By the way, if you are really bored, here are YouTube links to  "Move it On Over" and "Smoke, Smoke Smoke that Cigarette"

As for Homer and Jethro, they were masters at poking fun at the music of the day with parody versions of popular songs. For example the original version of "I'm Moving On" written and made famous by Hank Snow starts off with:

That big eight-wheeler rolling down the track
means your true-lovin' daddy aint coming back.
Cause I'm moving on, I'm rollin' on.
You were flying too high for my little sky,
So I'm movin' on.

Homer & Jethro's version starts:

The old hound dog was feelin' fine
Till he fell in a barrel of turpentine
He's a-movin' on, he's a-movin' on
He passed the gate, like an eighty-eight
He's a-movin' on.

And finishes with:

We travel a lot to make our showin'
The way we sing we have to keep on goin'
We're a-movin' on, we're a-movin' on
We've gotta go, here comes Hank Snow
We're a-movin' on.

They just don't write them like that anymore!

But the real issue is - WHERE DID THESE VINTAGE RECORDS COME FROM?

Anyone? Anyone?

Monday Meanderings 11.22.10

Very Important Announcement!

I have the answer to the airport screening brouhaha!

All we need to do is develop a booth that you can step into that will NOT X-ray you, but WILL detonate any explosive device you may have hidden on...or in your body. Naturally, the explosion is contained within the sealed booth.

This would be a win-win for everyone. There would be no racial profiling and the booth would eliminate long and expensive trials. This is so simple it's brilliant ! ! !

I can see it now - you're in the airport terminal and you hear a muffled explosion. Shortly thereafter an announcement comes over the PA system. "Attention...standby passengers, we now have a seat available on Flight Number........."

You're welcome.

And my solution is just in time. Making the rounds of the Internet is the following press release:

John Pistole, the head of the Transportation Security Administration, announced yesterday that full body scanners at airports across the nation will be seamlessly integrated with Facebook next month, allowing travelers to save, tag, and share their near-naked security photos with friends, family, and co-workers through the popular social networking site. Immediately after being subjected to a scan, the traveler’s photo will be automatically uploaded to a public album on Facebook and tagged accordingly. According to Pistole, this cutting-edge integration will allow travelers to stay more connected than ever with their social networks, letting Facebook users know when their friends have made it through airport security and if they are secretly smuggling weapons in real time.

We've grown used to hearing the "third down bell" provided by various teams across the country, but there was a new wrinkle in a game we watched the other night. We kept hearing a "beep - beeep - beeep" like a truck backing up. Turns out the home team plays that sound whenever their opponents get a penalty and get "backed up."

Next door to my Optometrist's office is that of a vet who deals with eye problems for pets. I wonder how that works?

"Can you read the bottom line?

"Arf, woof, yip, bark, arf."
"Okay. Now put your paw over the other eye. "

Got my certificate for 374 volunteer hours from Recording for the Blind and Dyslexic. Verbally.

And I leave you with a big FAIL.

Keeping Austin Weird

Just last week I mentioned Leslie, Austin's most iconic weird person and lo and behold he's back in the news again. Well, at least his picture is.

It seems that there is a local artist who has begun what he calls his "Homeless Project" - paintings of local homeless folk in their natural settings, and you can actually purchase these paintings. How would this look in your living room? Surprise your spouse with this and you, too could be homeless.

This really captures Leslie in an unusually understated manner, don't you think?  By the way , the dude on the left is the artist, Michael Peschka, the same guy who did the statue of Maria Corbalan, owner of Maria's Taco Xpress on S. Lamar Blvd., the statue that shows her with her arms thrown in the air.

According to the AAS, Peschka is doing paintings of homeless people in hopes of selling them and giving money to charities that help the homeless, such as Mobile Loaves & Fishes and Art 4 the Homeless. So far, he's done nine homeless paintings and sold one for $80 — of a bearded "veteran" in a raggedy tank top at Interstate 35 and Oltorf Street. His medium of choice is cardboard. He says that adds an authentic touch to the portraits.

If you are interested, Peschka's portraits are on display at Maria's Tacos. And the asking price for Leslie's portrait? $2,500. I think for that much money I would insist on the subject being attired in his less formal attire. Especially the tiera.

BTW, if you are wondering about Bob the Dog, the word is that he has abandoned the tour and members of his band say they haven't seen him for a couple of weeks now. That can't be good. I'm keeping a close watch on the yard next door.

Finder's Keepers

Prominent in the news the other day was news of the auction of of an old Chinese vase found in the attic of a London home. That vase, sold by a family clearing out a deceased relative's house, went to a buyer for 51.6 million British pounds. That's $83,000,000 in US dollars! Eighty-three million!! The sellers, the sister and nephew of a deceased elderly woman, found the vase clearing out her "very modest home" in a London suburb. It had been in the family at least since the 1930s, though no one knows how it was acquired.

My first thought was what might I have acquired when my parents cleared out the house in Breckenridge? Any sleepers in the keepsakes that found a home with us? Let's see... there's a dining room set that, while nice furniture, won't bring any interest at Sotheby's. Same with the cedar chest. Oh wait! There's the glass egg that a teacher gave my father when he was a child. Nearly a century old, that's got to be worth...uh...let's see... $14.95 plus shipping for a comparable egg on EBay! Sigh.

But all is not lost. I see a great deal of value in hinting broadly that there is a similarly valuable artifact hidden in our attic! An attic that I have no intention of cleaning out, but one that must someday be emptied of its treasures. See, treasures, that's the operative word! Who knows what uber-valuable trinket reposes up there? Only one way to find out. Haul it all down and see what we've got. Or did I put it in the shelves in the garage?

Happy Hunting!

Monday Meanderings - 11.15.10

Began our ?? (26th, we think - possibly even longer) season of following the Lady Longhorns. Friday night was a leave-by-half-time night (final score was 92-60). Unfortunately, with Baylor, Oklahoma, and A&M on the schedule, they will not all turn out that way.

We usually start our ball games with a Poke Jo's sandwich, served in the Fast Break Club downstairs at the Erwin Center. Get there early enough to get a good parking place, have a little BBQ, listen to one of the assistant coaches talk about tonight's game and then wander upstairs for the main event. Dining in the Fast Break club is an interesting experience. You have to be a member with a badge, which we are, and you get your badge scanned when you go in - and you get your badge scanned when you go out! I've asked why they badge you in and out, but I only get a generic answer about crowd control. There are attendants at every door in the room, so it's not like you are going to be able to sneak out into the back halls of the Erwin Center. I guess they are afraid you'll hide under a table instead of going upstairs to the game. Who knows? This is Austin.

Fall showed up this weekend. Granted, Austin is not known as a Fall showcase, but there is enough color and variety to make it interesting. Up to this point everything was pretty normal and then zap! - there's a lot of color in the trees and shrubs. Quite nice.

Okay, this is sort of long, but if you have seen the original Star Wars movies, this might be amusing to you.

Keeping Austin...uh, Texas... weird

Did you know that you can get your very own personalized license plate in Texas? No, not a standard-issue plate with custom characters or numbers like "EX TXS FAN." The whole plate design can be one of your choosing. Or one of someone else's choosing. Like this one:

Now we like Mighty Fine burgers. They are on the Texas Monthly 50 Greatest Hamburgers In Texas list (now that's a list I can relate to). Some members of this family (who do not live in this State) have even embraced them over In-N-Out offerings. But would you want your license plate to promote Mighty Fine the year round? Before you say no, consider that there is some largess involved - $100 in store currency for each year you keep the plate.

The Great and Sovereign State of Texas, for the modest sum of $5,000, will allow companies (and I suppose individuals) to design and offer completely custom plates. RE/Max, Ford Motor Company and Vestas wind energy company have already done so. And Now Mighty Fine.

Mind you, individuals still have to fork over money to the State; depending on a plate's customization level and expiration date, drivers pay from $55 to $595 for a personalized 10-year plate. My Plates, the company that markets the plates, and which also sells custom plates for nonprofits and Texas universities, has sold more than 28,000 license plates of this nature to date, raising about $2.1 million for the state's general revenue fund. And that's before the opportunity we now have to attach a cheeseburger to our vehicle. Who needs a State income tax when we have fine revenue programs like this?

So, I'm thinking. Who out there would go for their own "Retired In Austin" license plate? I think I see an opportunity here, but I'm not sure how to cash in on it.

Does anybody really know what time it is?

Have I mentioned that I really, really dislike Daylight Savings time? That it makes as much sense as cutting a strip off the blanket to sew onto the other end? That it long ago lost its reason for being - as a means to aid the war effort. The World War One war effort. That, according to a number of studies, it actually increases the use of energy, not decreases it? Well, it helps the farmers, you say. No, farmers hate it. Farmers, who must wake with the sun no matter what time their clock says, are greatly inconvenienced by the change.

There's all the psychological effect of getting up in the dark, or coming home in the dark, and the biological adjustments, and the dragging around for days until you get used to the change, especially in the Spring. But the biggest problem is CHANGING ALL THE BLINKING CLOCKS! Well, okay, just the one on the VCR actually blinks and I admit I don't ever set it. But let's just inventory the clocks and what it takes to adjust them:

Kitchen
Microwave - <1 minute (they should all be this easy; press a maximum of 6 buttons)
Oven - 1 minute (cycle back to the previous hour on a 12 hour clock twice because you overrun it the 1st time))
Coffee Maker - 3 minutes (figure out which buttons to hold and cycle back through 24 hours)
Wall clock - 4 minutes (30 seconds to change, 3 1/2 minutes to get it to hang on the wall again)

Bedrooms
4 clocks - 12 minutes (3 - cycle back 24 hour clocks, one old fashioned move the hands)

Cars
My car - 1 minute  (clearly labeled buttons, 12 hour clock)
Barb's car - 60 minutes  (55 minutes to find the instruction manual, 4 minutes to decide which button is which and 1 to change a 12 hour clock)

Miscellaneous
2 wrist watches - 2 minutes
Lawn sprinkler - 5 minutes (okay, I really don't change this one, but if I had to figure out how...)
Answering machine - 60 minutes looking for the manual, and if I could find it another 5 to change it)
Blood glucose monitors - 10 minutes looking up the instructions, 2 each for 2 meters

Two hours and 48 minutes. Okay, let's be generous and take the instructional manual searches out and round down to 45 minutes total. Folks, the US Census estimates that there are 114,825,428 households in the US right now. That's 86,119,071 hours frittered away; more than 9,830 person-years! We're not ever going to get that time back, people!  And we've got to do it all over in the Spring! And don't get me started on what it costs businesses to make this change!!

All I've got to say is thank goodness that all the computers, iTouches, phones and cable boxes auto set, because I would still be looking for the manuals.

How many clocks do you have? And how long does it take to change them?

Monday Meanderings - 11.8.10

Keeping Austin weird: In previous posts I have mentioned Leslie, a veritable Austin Icon known for his attire (or lack thereof) and frequent Mayoral candidacy. He's so well-known he even has his own Wikipedia entry. More recently there was the thong guy, and the Wal Mart guy. I now need to add Running Guy to the list.

On the corner of North Lamar and Rundberg there is a grassy median between the HEB parking lot and the street. We go by there often because our nearest public library is across the street. That median is where Running Guy is in training for the Olympics, assuming that the 25 yard dash is now an Olympic event. He's there every time we go by (which is pretty darn often, given our reading habits) ear-buds in place, sprinting up a slight incline for a distance of about 25 yards, then jogging back down the median and doing it again. And again. And again. Sometimes he sings and dances a little. But mostly he sprints. Gotta love this town.

It can be very disturbing to see a large man coming across the parking lot at you, swearing loudly. Fortunately, I saw the little Bluetooth phone gadget in his ear - just before I turned and ran screaming like a little girl.

He said, after running a couple of errands: "I can mark those places off my '100 places I gotta go' list."
She said: "But we go there all the time, and besides, isn't it a 1000 places?"
He said: "I don't know how much longer I have, so I'm making the list short and very easy."

Little known facts:  In most elevators installed since the early 1990s, the “close door” button has no effect. Otis Elevator engineers confirmed the fact to the Wall Street Journal in 2003. In 2004 the New York Times reported that more than 2,500 of the 3,250 “walk” buttons in New York intersections do nothing. “The city deactivated most of the pedestrian buttons long ago with the emergence of computer-controlled traffic signals, even as an unwitting public continued to push on.” I thought you knew.

Port A was at the top of its game this past weekend. The beach  was as clean and inviting as we've ever seen it - no sea weed, no jelly fish. Perfect weather and really nice seafood to boot. Doesn't get any better.

While sitting on the balcony of the condo we see this little red car zipping around the corner from the beach road to the street that runs beside the condo. A guy gets out and climbs up on a dune and the little red car drives off. In a minute we hear the car, really revving it. It turns off the beach, wheels spinning, and slides in the sand in a nice four-wheel drift while the guy on the dune takes pictures. When the dust settles, the car comes back, picks up the photographer and they drive off, mission accomplished.

Have a good week.

The Adventures of Bob the Dog - End of a career?

The beginning of  Bob the Dog's adventures can be found here.
 
I just finished reading an interview with Bob in City Dog/Country Dog magazine. He says he is over his disappointment that his first CD, "Blue Lonesome" was a colossal failure. Evidently Bob and his band, the Back Yard Howlers, are one hit wonders. He received the Country Dog Association Newcomer of the Year Silver Dish award for "I'm so lonesome I could Howl: - his single - but other songs like "I'm panting for you baby" and "Howling at the streetlight" are not to the public's liking. Bob said and that his best yodeling was yet to come, so he was not discouraged and he and the band were headed out for a big national tour and expected sell-out crowds.

Unfortunately, the word is that things are not going well on Bob's first (and perhaps final) big tour. He and his band, started out well - I hear Nutbush Tennessee sold out in in less than 6 hours – but other venues have not been so kind. Ticket sales are slow and crowds are sparse. It may have something to do with the fact that Bob failed to show up for a couple of concerts and has "behaved erratically" when he does make it on stage . The tour sponsor, Bugle Boy Dog Food, is reported ready to pull the plug.

But, true to his word, I received a money order today that paid off Bob’s “tab” – including the cost of the IDA counseling and the vet bill. He enclosed a note that said he had me to thank for getting him started on his career in the music business.

Not so sure about the career, but thanks for the money, Bob.

...to be continued. Maybe.

Stories for my grandchildren -Pinball Wizard

When I was in high school, I owned a pinball machine. A real, lights-flashing, bell-ringing, score-keeping, put a quarter-in-to-play pinball machine. Now, I think my older grandchildren understand the concept  of the pinball machine, but I'm pretty sure they have never seen an actual pinball machine, let alone played the silver balls. There are electronic versions of the pinball game, and probably even an app for that, so playing the game may be familiar - but, I realized sadly today the actual machines are no longer around.

I came to this realization after recently hearing Pinball Wizard from the rock opera Tommy (by the Who) on XM satellite radio. The DJ - who normally says next to nothing - said he had seen an article in the Wall Street Journal about how hard it was to find someone to repair pinball machines. I checked out the article and found that the machines in need of repair are all owned by collectors, and while there may be thousands of the machines still out there, they are, for the most part, all in private hands, or in museums. There may be a few old machines in the corner of an arcade somewhere, and there seem to be some clubs where they hold tournaments on beautifully restored games, but when was the last time you touched an actual machine in the wild?

I was reminded also, that pinball machines have a checkered past; they were once illegal, branded as gambling devices by many states and municipalities (including Breckenridge). It was not until the mid-'70's that most of the laws were repealed, so I am guessing that I technically may have been a scofflaw. I guess that's not something I should include in a blog intended for my grandchildren, though, is it? Oh well. As if that were the only skeleton in the closet!

My machine sat outside a gas station, in the rain and the sun, for quite a while before I finally persuaded the owner to let me have it. I think he did so only to get rid of me. I stopped and bugged him asked about that machine every week or so for about a year. When he finally relented and I got it home, it was in pretty bad shape. Fortunately, the glass over the playing surface had protected the deck from the elements somewhat; the real problem was the rust and corrosion of the wiring and electrical components, There were no electronics - solenoids and stepping relays made it work. These devices, however, I knew how to repair and replace, so I got the machine in pretty good working order.

The big pluses of having your own machine? 1) You didn't have to pay to play. Think arcade games  - not Play Station. 2) You could jam the lead weight that registered TILT if you put too much English on the game. 3) You got very good at pinball. Robert Oglesby, (the senior Robert) was the preacher in Breckenridge at that time, and lived across the street. He would sneak over make a clergy visit from time-to-time and engage me in a little game or two. He always lost, but then, where would a CofC preacher get proficient at the game in those days?

So what happened to my pinball machine? I went off to college and my Mom kicked it out of the house, and there was this kid who kept stopping by and bugging her about it...

Monday Meanderings - 11.1.10

On breezy days, such as those we're having now, when you enjoy your coffee on the patio you have to keep your hand over your cup else you end up with leaf tea instead of coffee. And watch out for the falling pecans!

If you look up "stoner" in the dictionary you will find a picture of San Francisco Giants ace pitcher, Tim Lincecum. Just saying...

We are replacing some 20-year old carpet, and the guy from the store came to measure the other day. We showed him the area and he pulled out his little laser measure and pointed the red dot here and there, tapped in the measurements on his tablet computer and drew the floor plan on that device in seconds. The next morning he e-mailed us the floor plan diagram, the cutting pattern and the quote. Gotta love technology!

Thought about Julie and her pumpkin patch field trip the other morning. We were on our way somewhere and saw a herd of little people (and some big people) at the corner of Lamar and Braker. They had walked from McBee Elementary and were waiting for the nice policeman to stop traffic so they could get the long line of kids across Lamar safely; they were on their way to the pumpkin patch at St Marks Methodist on Braker. On our way home, we saw the same activity in reverse - Mr. Policeman helping them on the homeward trek. Count carefully, teachers - don't want anyone left hiding amongst the pumpkins.

Sign on a septic tank pumper truck: "We're #1 in the #2 business."

He said: "I'm going to Breed Hardware."
She said" "Can you find your way to Breed Hardware?"
He said: "It's on Twenty-something off the Drag."
She said: "Wait. I need to go with you."

 And the reason I wanted to go to Breeds? To get a pecan picker-upper. Like this: And I'm happy to say that it works wonderfully. No more bending and squatting to pick up pecans! Just walk around and snap them up.

We've got a pretty good pecan crop here on the homestead this year. Not so much in quantity, but in quality. This year's pecans are fully-formed and firm. Good eating. And no more aching back.

Now I just need something to relieve the aching hands and chafed fingers from shelling the pecans I didn't have to stoop over to pick up.


 On our trips to Walmart we regularly encounter a person we have dubbed "the Walmart Guy." He wanders around the store in Longhorn regalia announcing loudly to no one in particular how the team is going to fare in Saturday's game. For some reason no one seems interested in stopping and discussing the game - or any thing else - with him. I guess the current losing streak has put him off UT game proclamations. This week he was loudly describing how scary he was going to look for Halloween. He's got a pretty good head start, if you ask me.

And here's a parting salute to Halloween: