Wednesday, August 31, 2011

More "Why women live longer than men"

In honor of the very last day of this way-too-hot-month...














Monday, August 29, 2011

Monday Meanderings - 8.29.2011

Y'all, it's too hot to blog! Here's proof:

And actually it reached 112 at Camp Mabry, one of the official measuring places. The same is expected for today. Come on, Thursday and Friday!!

Evidently Austin likes it hot - inside and out. Yesterday a few thousand gathered in Waterloo Park in record-setting heat for the 21st annual Hot Sauce Festival. Hot sauce vendors put out their hottest concoctions and everyone got to sample and judge. I'm told they disqualified the fan favorite - the vendor that was passing out ice cream.

Our pulpit minister took his oldest boy to Pepperdine this week - first child to leave for college. He said that he and his wife shed a lot of tears when it was time to go. No, the boy was fine, but it was 78 degrees in Malibu and 108 in Austin.

We are now only allowed to water one day a week, unless it is by a hand-held hose. Barb says having the hose pass over your lap while you are sitting on the patio does not count.

Went out to get the paper the other morning and found a large limb from the pecan tree broken completely off and hanging down perilously close to the garage doors. A bit more and the cars are not coming out. Now you may recall that something similar happened a couple of years ago. I solved that problem by climbing up on the roof with the chain saw and dispatching the errant limb. You may also recall the new problem that created of my not being able to get down off the roof  because the limb I used to get up there in the first place was now firewood on the driveway.

This time there was no advantage to my getting on the roof, but for some reason Barb was really adamant about my climbing into the tree with a chain saw. So adamant that I called a man and paid him a large sum of money to have his guy climb into the tree with a chainsaw. I do admit that it was nice that when they left they took all the limb parts with them - and swept the driveway to boot!

And you have seen this before, but it is so nice to think about. Right?


Friday, August 26, 2011

Cool places I've been.. Stories for my grandchildren


That's cool as in not the 71st day (and counting) of triple digit temperatures. Cool as getting snowed on on the 4th of July. Cool, as in needing to snuggle down in the sleeping bag. Ahhhh. That's more like it.

Other than the obvious 108 degrees expected today,  my nephew John, blogging about his recent trek to the top of Pikes Peak got me to thinking about Colorado. If you check out his story, you will see that his mountain-climb was inspired by an even greater feat - the discipline to lose 120 pounds of excess avoirdupois! Way to go, John!

My mountain-climb could be attributed to not having a clue about what was involved in climbing one of Colorado's fourteeners. What were you thinking, Bob?

Way, way back - the summer our son graduated from high-school - the new youth-director told the kids that they were going on Trek that summer. Here's the info, we need your money by this date, and oh-by-the-way we need a few adults to go and drive and be responsible, (because the YD certainly wasn't). For some reason, Barb said she would go. After I recovered from the shock of her going, I realized that meant I had to go too - if for no other reason than to bury her body by the side of the trail!

To be fair, the materials pointed out that even though there was no technical climbing involved, one was expected to be reasonably fit, and a good exercise regimen would be helpful in achieving this fitness. So we exercised. We walked, and jogged, and carried backpacks full of rocks around, and after the second day of this nonsense declared ourselves fit as we were going to get.

The afternoon of departure, we loaded up two church vans, split the driving duties between the five adults, and headed for Twin Lakes, Colorado. We got as far as Abilene before we had to stop several hours while one of the vans had some repair work. Back on the road, we were not out of West Texas before the air conditioning quit on the other van. The plan was to drive straight through. The plan was stupid.

Breakfast at a Hardees in Hereford, forcibly make the kids trade seats in air-conditioned van for seats in non-air-conditioned van, forcibly make one of the adult drivers who refused to be relieved to step away from the van, and we were on the road again.

As part of our conditioning regimen, both Barb and I had given up caffeine; we recognized that we were headed for a wilderness area, and a caffeine dependency just wouldn't do, would it? Never mind that when we finally made it to base camp in the hills above Twin Lakes, we met the Dr Pepper truck coming out of the gate after the driver had restocked the vending machine in the dining hall.

We got there on Saturday afternoon and spent the rest of the day in instruction and orientation. Bobby Wood was running Wilderness Trek at that time, and as he told us what to expect for the rest of the week it was at that point some of the young ladies realized there would be no restrooms on the trail. The expression on their faces was worth the trip.

Sunday morning was worship out on the point - looking across the valley at Mt. Elbert and Mt. Massive. Seeing the two tallest mountains in Colorado from that perspective inspired a lot of prayers that morning. Sunday afternoon we went to rappel. All of us. Even Barb. She was not too keen about the idea of stepping off the face of a 100 foot cliff with nothing between her and the ground but a couple of thin ropes. She was less thrilled when the ropes got tangled and she was stuck on the side of the cliff. While Bobby climbed down to get her going again, I was looking around for a shovel and a good burial plot.

One of our group refused to rappel. Absolutely. Refused. No. The youth director talked to him, the adults talked to him, the other kids talked to him. Not go down that rope. Finally, Bobby told him that he had a choice: he could rappel, or he could rappel. That was the only way he was going to get off the mountain. He rappelled. And loved it! We saw lots of changed behavior that week, but that fear turned to victory moment was priceless.

Monday we divided the tents, cooking gear and food among us and set out for high camp on Mt Elbert. Never mind that our backpacks were already stuffed full before we distributed another 40 pounds of gear per person. Tie it on and hit the trail.

The "back" slope of Elbert - our approach that morning - starts out with a significant segment of scree - loose, slippery rock. Easily displaced, we spent the morning yelling "Rock" to those coming along below us, and dodging the rolling boulders from those above us. We finally reached vegetation again, and began following an old logging trail upwards.

About mid-morning, it began to rain. Now ponchos were on the list of things to bring, but Bobby had already pointed out that they are next to useless in keeping you and your pack dry. Garbage bags work for the packs, and some of the kids resorted to using them for ponchos as well. But the fact is we got wet. And cold. And miserable. And did I mention wet?

High camp is at about 11,000 feet - right at treeline. Some of us got there with everything, Some of us got there without our back packs, and some didn't get there at all. The stronger ones of the group went back to collect packs and trekkers and bring them up. I was not among that group. It was still raining, we were still wet, and we were still miserable. Finally, someone got a non-Forest Service approved fire started and we huddled around that for a time, and then the sun came out.

I cannot describe to you the sheer joy of that group upon seeing the sun. Never was a little sunshine received with more delight and adulation than at that moment. All became well with the world again, and we almost forgave Bobby for dragging us up here. Supper that night included fried Spam, a delicacy that most of the kids had never experienced. One of the guys was so excited, he said he couldn't wait to tell his mother about Spam. I was pretty sure she wouldn't share that enthusiasm.

It rained again that night. Unfortunately, our Trek Director believed in letting Trekkers make non-fatal mistakes (and we are suspicious about the other kind), so no one told a certain group of girls and the female adult sponsor that the door of their tent should not open on the uphill side of the mountain. If you do that, water flowing down hill rushes in the tent door and fills the tent. Someone who shall remain nameless will forever be remembered as shouting at the Trek Director, when he explained the mistake the next morning, "We could have stayed at home and gotten wet for a whole lot less money!"

Tuesday was acclimation. Above high camp the slopes were still covered with snow, and we climbed up onto those snow fields and glissaded down them. Glissaded is a technical term that means we sat down on the snow and tobogganed down the side of the mountain, dragging an ice axe behind us in the mistaken belief that it would a) slow us down, b) help steer us, and c) allow us to stop when we ran out of snow.

Wednesday, early Wednesday was summit day. Up at 4am, eat a dry breakfast and begin a death march to the peak. From high camp to the peak of Elbert, there are 7 false summits; you see what you think is the top and put everything you've got into making that, only to find that there's more mountain ahead of you. It was at this point one of the kids asked how we would know when we got to the peak. Bobby, said, "You'll know when there's no more up." Above 11,000 feet breathing is labored. The least exertion winds you. At some point you realize that you are taking a step, then taking a breath. Step. Breath. Later in the morning, it has become step, breath, breath, breath, step, breath, breath, breath.

And then there's no more up. You are sitting on the rock pile that is the top of Mt Elbert, elevation, 14,440 feet!  We sing a couple of songs, take the group photos, and it's time to head down. Storms come early at this elevation and to be caught on the peak is to risk becoming a crispy critter. So we start the descent.

And that's when you realize that you have given everything you have to get to the top. You are completely exhausted, and going down the mountain is just as hard as going up the mountain. You just use different muscles. There's no elevator, no road, no snow field to glissade down. It's just one foot in front of the other. It was the hardest thing I've ever done.

Thursday was the trek down from high camp, where we found out there was a logging road that completely bypassed the dangerous scree. Back to trail head, back to base camp, wonderful feast waiting for us and then the Thursday night bonfire.

You had to be there to fully appreciate the bonfire. So many attitude changes. So many life-lessons. The Thursday night bonfire is the reason you go through this hell.

One of the hardest things I've ever done. So hard, that we went twice more - La Plata and Mt. Harvard, and timed a vacation trip so we could be at another Thursday night bonfire. And forever more, our family had a mantra: "You've been wet and cold before. You will get over it."

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Hatch Green Chili Fest - 2011


If you don't live in one of the 27 Chuy's cities  - I'm sorry.

From the fields of Hatch Valley, New Mexico, emerges a hero with uncanny super powers - none other than the amazing  "Super Pepper!" Hero to Tex-Mex fans everywhere. Well, almost everywhere. 

Monday, August 22, 2011

Monday Meanderings 8.22.2011

Seen recently on Facebook:
  • The economy is so bad that I got a pre-declined credit card in the mail.
  • CEO's are now playing miniature golf. 
  • Exxon-Mobil laid off 25 Congressmen. 
  • Angelina Jolie adopted a child from America. 
  • Motel Six won't leave the light on anymore. 
  • A picture is now only worth 200 words.
  • They renamed Wall Street "Wal-Mart Street"
  • ...And finally, I called the suicide hotline; I got a call center in Pakistan and when I told them I was suicidal, they got all excited, and asked if I could drive a truck!
I don't mean to play the "My city is hotter than your city" game, but tomorrow Austin will tie the number-of-triple-digit-days in a summer record of 69 days, set back in 1925, and there is no end in sight. I'm seriously considering doing the rain dance out on the front lawn, but then, of course, we would probably have to move. Even if it brings rain, there are some things the neighbors just can't deal with.

School starts today for much of the area. Yesterday in church we blessed the kindergartners... Mr. Adam made a big deal about how the kids would meet new people, and be in a new place, and it will all be new and diffeent, and a toddler piped up and said, "Nuh huh. I'm going to home school."

So. Governor GoodHair has announced his bid for the presidency and every. word. he. says. is now subject to the utmost scrutiny in the media. I am going to be so sick of this campaign! This past week someone ran a full-page ad in the Austin Chronicle, the alternative, free newspaper in Austin. The 40-point bold-face headline said,

HAVE YOU EVER HAD SEX WITH RICK PERRY?
It went on to say. "Are you a stripper, an escort, or just a 'young hottie' impressed by an arrogant, entitled governor of Texas? Contact CASH and we will help you publicize your direct dealings with a Christian-buzzword-spouting 'family values' hypocrite and fraud."   

However, KLBJ Radio voluntarily took down their big billboard that said, GOD, GAYS & GUNS along with the names of the talk jocks on the station. They said the billboard was intended to show that the station did not avoid controversial subjects, but it had been widely interpreted as "God is going after Gays with Guns."

You gotta' love this town!

More quotes from friends on the Internet. this from Trey Morgan: "Why are there never any good side effects to meds? Just once I'd like to read a medication bottle and see "May cause extreme handsomeness."

Friday, August 19, 2011

Nostalgia trip

I have posted about my home town of Breckenridge before - specifically about how it was a powerhouse of high school football in the late '50s. That's a by-gone era that cannot be duplicated today. But I ran across a newspaper clipping that sent me down memory lane, so this blog is a little indulgence on my part.

Jake Trussell was a sportswriter of some minor note in the Kingsville / Texas A&I area and this was his response to the State Championship game in 1958 - my Senior year. As you might expect, the article was not well received in Breck - especially the vivid descriptions of the barren wasteland and the "Gunsmoke" references. I recall that the local paper sent someone to Kingsville to report back on the ugliness of that area. Alas, Kingsville, while not in the Rio Grand Valley per se, is located in one of the more verdant areas of South Texas. Mr. Trussell may have had a point. For the record, we won 42-14.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
The Kingsville Record
Wednesday, December 24, 1958
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Breckenridge Was Tough And Mean Last Saturday As Buckaroos Beat Bulls

by Jake Trussell

For years I'd heard of Breckenridge and its high school football team, but not until Saturday did I learn the facts of life. I finally made a pilgrimage to Breckenridge, and as a long time writer on the the subject of high school football I think “pilgrimage” is the right word to use. No football fan will ever know how great high school football can be played until he's seen the Breckenridge Buckaroos perform on their home field.

After the Kingsville Brahamas beat massive Cleburne, I just couldn't imagine Breckenridge being any better than that giant Cleburne team. So I picked Kingsville to knock off Breckenridge 24 to 20. It was a classic example of ignorance being bliss.

I felt sure of my prediction until the fans' bus upon which I rode to the game came in sight of Breckenridge. But as I saw Breckenridge as the bus approached the town and then drove through it, I became vaguely uneasy. By the time I had gotten out of the bus, entered Buckaroo Stadium, and climbed to the press box, I had a deep down aching feeling that Kingsville was going to get the axe.

Mean and Tough

Breckenridge Saturday was the meanest, toughest, rawest, ugliest looking town I have ever seen – and it had a football team to match. The comparatively small town was sitting on barren, wind-swept, frost-bitten Northwest Texas hills. There wasn't a speck of green in sight anywhere. Separate portions of the town actually looked like sets out of “Gunsmoke.”

As our bus wheeled through the streets of this God forsaken-looking community, we noticed that there were no automobiles, pedestrians or stragglers on the streets. Everything appeared to be closed down. Breckenridge actually looked like a ghost town. “Where is everybody?” someone asked. A few minutes later we discovered the answer to that question. They were all at the football stadium, preparing to watch another slaughter. Once again, I use a word advisedly. “Slaughter” is the right verb-adjective to describe the way Breckenridge dismembers a visiting football team. And the staging is absolutely perfect.

What A Stadium

The Breckenridge football stadium looks like a combination rodeo chute – slaughter pen – concentration camp. Old, rough wooden bleachers surround the playing field on three sides. The football field itself doesn't have a single blade of grass on it. The softest thing on that gridiron Saturday was the line markings. It was as barren, and almost as hard, as if the two teams had been playing on a tennis court.

The football field is surrounded by a concentration camp-type fence, right off the edge of the field, and immediately behind the fence the thousands of screaming Breckenridge fans roar their approval of the Buckaroos and their disapproval of the visiting club. No wonder the the Buckaroos are almost invincible at home. The opposition is intimidated before a single play is ever run. If I was a coach and took a team into Breckenridge seriously expecting to win, I wouldn't step into that stadium without sub-machine guns and hand grenades. The implication automatically is that if you ever win a game there you'll have to fight your way out of town.

Quick, Quick, Quick!

On the field of play itself, the Buckaroos present the quickest, fastest, hardest hitting high school team you will ever see! The secret of their success is mainly two-fold. A great tradition of being a football town, and team speed as an eleven-man unit that is absolutely amazing. On their home field, the Buckaroos play as if they knew that, if they lose, they will each and every one be run out of town. Those Bucks aren't just playing football. They're fighting for a happy home and the right to walk down the streets of their own city.

Breath-Taking

Their speed as a team is breath-taking. One Kingsville fan came through with the best description of the way the Bucks operate. Said this fan, “They come up to the line of scrimmage, squat down, and then take off like a covey of quail.” Actually, the Buckaroos moved quicker erecting their offensive plays than any team I have ever seen, high school, college or pro. They waste no time at the line of scrimmage. They work the plays through the middle so fast that neither the fans nor the opposition know what's happening until the runner is in the secondary.

On the field of play the Buckaroos are good sports. They didn’t try “to get” Kingsville's colored athletes, as had been rumored in advance. They simply knock you into the middle of next week, then run back to the huddle to call the next play. They are too great a team to wast time on dirty football.

Prefers Kingsville

After it was all over Saturday, my reaction was as follows, I knew I'd finally seen the greatest in high school football. But if I had to live in Breckenridge to be state champions, I'd just stay in Kingsville and be runners-up. For one of the reasons the Breckenridge boys play great football is because of the simple and obvious fact that they have nothing else to do. The isolated, forlorn, and desolate cowtown-oil-town sits alone and overlooked by the rest of civilization. Until somebody mentions the game of high school football!

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Oh, give me a home...


The conservationists at the Ladybird Johnson Wildflower Center have been hard at work on a 16 acre restoration project that will feature different kinds of native grasses and trees in Central Texas as they might have existed 200 years ago - when the buffalo roamed. In a case of "if you build it they will come," a female bison showed up at the project the other day, and felt right at home.

The conservationists were elated; the Center managers less so. Families on picnics and a 2,000 pound ungulate don't mix well. There's a State Farm TV commercial that suggests that. So efforts began to "dart" the bison and deliver her back to her owner, a rancher in Manchaca who was unloading the buffalo, which he had just purchased in Colorado, when it broke loose and trotted away.

Only problem was, aptly-named Liberty, the bison,  liked the meadowland, and she was reluctant to be trundled off to some old cow pasture. Some animal control workers (read dog catchers) darted her but the dose was inadequate and Liberty just trotted off. So the next day they called in Animal Protection and Control for Austin and Travis County. They, in turn, called in a National Guard helicopter and sent "buffalo hunters" out to finish the job. It may interest you to know that a 2000 pound bison can effectively hide from searchers in a helicopter in a landscape dotted with scrub oak and ceder trees.

Since this is Austin, it didn't take long for a groundswell of support to appear on Liberty's behalf.  There were at least two Twitter accounts set up for her, and with tweets like:
BuffaloAustin Wildflower Buffalo
Don't taze me, bro! Don't taze me! #PoliceBrutality



BuffaloAustin Wildflower Buffalo
Listening to @Austin360Radio on my Android and they're playing Buffalo Soldier by Marley. Great way to start the weekend!

BuffaloAustin Wildflower Buffalo
@UTexasMBA Do you offer advanced degrees for advanced bovines? #EducateTheBison

BuffaloAustin Wildflower Buffalo
Yes, I am here, and I'm here in ATX. Many have tried and failed to find me. Bring it on, slugger! #BisonCamo #sillyhumans
 So after almost a week of playing an embarrassing game of "Where's Liberty?" the officials called in a "consultant" to find the scofflaw. What that actually means is they hired a local hunter who put boots on the ground, tracked Liberty down the old-fashioned way, and helped her take a nap while the officials huffed and puffed  and loaded her on the trailer and took her to her real home in south Travis County.

I'm just wondering; once she's seen the Wildflower Meadowland, are they going to be able to keep her down on the farm?

Monday, August 15, 2011

Monday Meanderings - 8.15.2011

Well, it finally happened. They had me read a phone book at Recording for the Blind.  No, not the one with everyone's numbers - the one that comes with your phone, the user's guide. This was for a Samsung smartphone; I told them that if it had been for the Apple iPhone the recording would have been only 4 pages long instead of 128 for the Samsung phone.

The dental hygienist that Barb and see (when we need some guilt and verbal abuse) recently entered an Iron Man competition in Austria - and won it! Not sure what age group she competes in (she has grandchildren) but the fact that she finished the competition is awesome enough. This qualifies her for the big one in Kona in October. The bottom line is, when she says "Open wide" you do exactly that.

I find it odd that okra - long a staple in the below-the-line family's diet  - costs $2.00 a pound.

Bad pre-season football is better than no football at all. But just barely.

Weatherman says today is the "tipping point" for temperatures; on average temperatures are lower after this date. Good to know since the forecast calls for 105 degrees today.

So. Governor Good-Hair has entered the presidential race.  For someone who claims to dislike Washington so much he sure seems to want to get there.

Friday, August 12, 2011

A new twist on the Tower



Recently a production company shot promotional footage for UT's brand new Longhorn Network and used the Tower as the backdrop. Not unusual, but they added their own twist - a laser light show that had the building whirling like a Rubik's Cube. Interesting.

According to the Statesman, the footage will be broadcast on Aug. 26 when the Longhorn Network launches.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Chuy's dirty little secret goes public


It hasn't been that well hidden, this dirty little secret of Chuy's. I've known for quite some time. I just convinced myself that it didn't make any difference. Nothing has changed. Now the whole world knows, or soon will. Chuy's, that bastion of Austin-style funkiness, shining icon of what's right about this town, is owned by a corporation. That's not the bad part. The bad part is that this corporation is based in New York City. Get a rope.

Yes, in 2006, Mike Young and John Zapp sold the business to Goode Partners, a New York based private equity firm. To be sure Mike and John seem to be still involved, but make no mistake. The suits are in charge.

I was okay with private, because truthfully, you can still get a Chuychanga with Queso that is identical to those those that have we feasted on for more than 25 years. But now Goode Partners has filed for a public stock sale. And a lot of the revenue from that offering is slated for expansion. Oh, I know that there are already 27 Chuy's restaurants located in Texas, Tennessee, Alabama, Kentucky and Indiana. But next thing you know there will be one in Oklahoma. Or College Station. Is nothing sacred?

But wait, you say. Isn't this good news? Isn't this a chance to become a shareholder, a part owner, as it were? Isn't this like the oil bidness and everybody needs a few shares of Chuy's? Even if it is only .0084151%?

Folks, there's only so much disposable income. Which would you rather; have a chicken fajita burrito for dinner or file away a piece of paper? And before long folks from these far-away places - who think beef tips in brown gravy is a Tex-Mex dish - will be standing up at shareholder meetings calling for bell peppers instead of Hatch chilies, 'cause they like it mild!

I think I have to go drown my sorrows in some creamy jalapeno dip.

Monday, August 8, 2011

Monday Meanderings - 8.8.2011

Have I mentioned that we are reading literature books at Learning Ally? Only the last 27 Monday Meanderings? This week I got a high-school-level American Lit book and lucked out with two wonderful, complete stories, "The Magic Barrel' by Bernard Malamud and "The Rock Pile" by James Baldwin. Both were rich in dialect and language and I loved the experience of reading them! We were one page from the end of the second story when we reached the time for a shift change. My director said, "You have to finish this. You MUST finish this." So we did.

With the temperature above 100 degrees for more than 50 days thus far, I was expecting the electric bill for July to approach the national debt. The electric portion was reasonable, however. It was the water portion, and waste water, and trash and drainage/street service (whatever that is), and all the other things they ding you for that really ring it up.

An event that really makes you feel old is to have a grandson stop by on his way to visit another part of the country. Where is the toddler I played cars with for hours on end? Somehow it is fitting, however. We have been greeting him and saying goodbye to him at airports all his life.

And Barb was afraid that we might not have enough for him to snack on while here. So she stocked up. And you should see the refrigerator!


Of course we went to the movies while he was here. We have to keep our record intact of going to the movies at least once every 3 or 5 ... years. Saw Captain America. Cool movie, but a really, really terrible ending. I'm told you have to be really up on the Avenger comics stuff and then you would know that the terrible ending is to set up next summers follow-on. I also came away with questions based on what I learned in World History. What's that? It's based on a comic book character? I knew that.

I understand President Obama turned 50 this past week in spite of the Republican's objections.

Tee shirt seen on a large man: "I am winning the battle against Anorexia."

I attended a funeral this week. There was congregational singing and we sang several familiar songs. One of them was "Red River Valley." Don't recall ever singing that at a funeral before.

And would you rather see temperatures like this -


Or like this?

I found this setting that says "C" or "F."  "C" obviously means "cooler."

Friday, August 5, 2011

Random wierdness

From Wikipedia:

Pareidolia ( /pærɨˈdliə/ parr-i-doh-lee-ə) is a psychological phenomenon involving a vague and random stimulus (often an image or sound) being perceived as significant. Common examples include seeing images of animals or faces in clouds, the man in the moon or the Moon rabbit, and hearing hidden messages on records played in reverse. The word comes from the Greek para- – "beside", "with", or "alongside"—meaning, in this context, something faulty or wrong (as in paraphasia, disordered speech) and eidōlon – "image"; the diminutive of eidos – "image", "form", "shape".

 Here's an example - the "man in the moon" referenced above:




And it also encompasses things like the next picture; a religious image in something trivial, like toast.




Or the Virgin Mary - very popular among some ethnic groups:




Some claim there's a cat's face in this piece of toast. You be the judge.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Panhandler profiles

You have them where you live, too; the ubiquitous street-corner panhandler, flying a cardboard flag and dealing for dollars. Seems like every corner has one, from early morning's light until late in the night. And after long and careful study I find most fit in some definite categories. Maybe you've noticed:

The happy guy -  He waves at everybody, change or no. Big smiles and eye contact, not a care in the world, he's just out there to make his little corner a better place. Very few women in this category (with a notable exception discussed later).

The mannequin - Not a twitch. This one stares off into space with no interaction at all; depends on peripheral vision to catch proffered change. A lot of women use this style. Not to be confused with the next type:

The zombie -  You are not sure this one ever moves. At all. I've seen one guy hunkered down in front of a guard rail for weeks on end. Sometimes you wonder about calling EMS...Wait! Was that a blink?

Crying girl - I thought this was unique to one person, but I have now seen others using the technique; tears run down her cheeks, face turned away, humiliation almost more than she can bear. Crying on demand is a very useful ability for a panhandler, but I wonder if she gets dehydrated in this heat?

Life history on the sign -  Vietnam Vet, ex-Marine, Paratrooper, Child of God, Peacenik. Needing a bus ticket/cheeseburger/tank of gas and 39 cents short. The sign is a work in process; every square inch covered with symbols, scriptures and pleas.

The real pros -  Usually a couple, they have worked a particular corner for years. They live in the minor-league motel down the street, and take vacations.

Hears the voices -  You are never quite sure about these these guys. It's not just a drummer; there's a whole band playing in there. Just for them.

Hears the voices and argues with them - I have been known to run red lights rather than have to stop next to one of these guys.

Bikini Babes - The before-mentioned female counterpart to the Happy Guy. They are smokin' hot, happy to see you and you can even get your picture taken with them for a donation toward their rent money. Sadly, I've encountered only one instance of this type (and they got arrested for creating a traffic hazard). Seems hardly fair. I didn't hit the guy stopped in front of me that hard!

Windshield washers - What can I say? They work for their money. I just wish it wasn't on the car in front of me when the light has long since turned green.

The band between gigs - There's 3 or 4 of them and twice that many guitars. Loser has to panhandle while the others get to practice their art. Walked by a group of these on the Santa Clara boardwalk and got a custom four-part harmonized appeal.

The gang -  Similar to the band, above, but with no discernible musical talent, these guys have staked out an intersection, or patch of concrete next to a panhandle stand and that becomes the boys club. Everybody congregates there, passing the paper bag, taking turns holding the cardboard.

The squatter -  A plastic crate to sit on - or even a lawn chair - appears first. Then there's a few plastic bags of assorted stuff, a backpack or two, assorted water bottles and oh yeah, don't forget the dog. And the dog dish, and...

The invalids - Pick your affliction. They look up new diseases on the Internet at the public library and have half-a-dozen signs to choose from. Some use props like crutches - until they have to run for their bus. Yes, I did see that. For some, they are not props. We regularly see a one-legged woman with a sign that reads "On my last leg."

How about the folks on your corners? Any new categories?

Monday, August 1, 2011

Monday Meanderings - 8.1.2011

I read some F. Scott Fitzgerald at the studio last week and realized that somehow I'd never actually read any of his work. Now I know why.

Tee shirts: The 1st 50 years of marriage are the hardest.
                 So far this is the oldest I've ever ever been.
                 I'm retired and you are not. Na na na na na!

Austin puts on the Cow Parade beginning this week. Fanciful fiberglass cows decorated by local artists and auctioned off for charity. You will recall the guitars from a couple of years ago. Lots of cities have done the Cow parade. Here's one from New York City:

Cowabunga!

But no other city has the Thriller jacket!  A guy in Austin paid $1.8 million for the original, for the express purpose of loaning it out for charitable projects.

This week, for a modest donation, you can get your picture taken with the jacket at Dell Children's Medical Center.

Why is it that the TV remote is never where I am?

Having gone through all the summer sports (baseball College World Series for men and women, Women's World Cup, Cupa America, Tour de France) we are now down to... football. Certainly glad the pros worked out their little differences (maybe they can help Congress), so let's get ready for some football.