Sunday, March 31, 2019

It's True - Bad Reheasal, Good Show

All of us in this cast were nervous at Friday nights' rehearsal, but now being acquainted with the theatre itself, knowing exactly what we were supposed to do, we all relaxed, visited with each other very pleasantly  as we waited our turn and,  in this case, familiarity did not bring  contempt!

This afternoon is the last performance and then I am done with show biz!   It was an experience, once I got over myself, and promises to be a sold out show if this afternoon is like last night.   Only a few bare spots in the theater seating and small ones at that.  Four or five little vacant seats, crying out for derrieres on them.  There were 90 chairs set up for this, so assume 85 filled is very good.

Probably the very worst of bad taste, but I am throwing a "Come have a drink and an appetizer because I got through this!" for all of the friends and fellow writers who showed up for the show.  A little do at our favorite Mexican restaurant which has a very pleasant patio out front. Roofed against the sun with a garden-style seating area.  And it promises to be almost-summer weather.

I am quite looking forward to it.  To me, it means, "Done!  Never again!"  It's now on my resume and I never have to do it again.  .

Saturday, March 30, 2019

Bad Rehearsal; Good Performance

A theatre adage I am told.  Well tonight ought to blow them out of their seats, based on it.  Or so my fellow performers may believe.  Certainly we all want to believe it.

Once we were all present, the producer gave us a tour of the theatre - three short steps up to the stage,  shove aside a dark green velvet-y looking curtain - and step down from small landing behind it and three shallow steps down to the Green Room.  We are to sit there, make no noise, and pop up when it's our turn.  I'm #3 in the line-up.
Last night was clearly the first time we'd all met and we all shook hands as we introduced ourselves to one another.  One runs ShareHopeUSA, a non-profit organization to feed the souls of homeless and sick children.  Another is our 4th District Councilman, and an 85 year old stand-up comedian, a retired pastor .   Despite his age, he worked the stage more.than any of the rest of us!

A retired teacher, turned actress who told a wonderful story about Marrying Off Aunt Ada at a time when social mores dictated that the oldest daughter married first and then the remaining sisters were allowed to marry.  Things were certainly different in Olden Days.

First thing we did was, following the line-up posted, we read the first couple of sentences and the last couple of the sentences which was to give the saxophonist (who transitioned us and set apart each act).  This is called a "cue to cue" technic for getting through an 8 minute piece in no time at all.  "Good," I thought - I haven't eaten since 11 a.m.!  Imagine my dismay when the producer said with relish, all but rubbing his hands together - "Now we'll do a full rehearsal!" and visions of dinner flitted out the door. If you ever do this - eat first!  Particularly as rehearsal started at 6 p.m. and what with one thing and another, lasted until 8:40 p.m.

A stage (other than  stage coach) is new territory to me.  Most disconcerting to me was reading along, looking up from time to time, as instructed - only to be met by a  white light which blinded me just long enough to lose my place in the manuscript.  After, when the producer asked for our notes, and one mentioned the lighting, I yelled out, "I was ready to confess! I did it!  I did it!!"

My performance should be better tonight since we had this rehearsal.  Entry points, exits and where everything is.  Familiarity breeds relaxed nerves and now mine should be.  Otherwise go to the bathroom or sneak out for a cigarette when you see me appear.  I'll signal you with a throat cutting gesture.  Run!

Friday, March 29, 2019

Here Comes the Weekend

And my debut on the stage which I haven't seen yet.  Tonight the cast gathers at 6 p.m. for a run-through of the show.  But - efficiently, in turn, we read the first and last paragraphs of our various pieces - apparently for an idea of the running time and for the saxophone player to get a sense of what his music needs to match, based on story content.  If you are planning on a costume or "outfit" of some sort, feel free to wear it tonight.  I'm not.

What I am going to wear is what I wore on the various tracks - jeans, a white t-shirt and running shoes.  You don't dress up for a race.  Road dust, flying engine parts or rocks thrown up from the track onto you; Goodyear freckles  which are tiny dots of oil on the start line at NHRA drag races.  And most likely it is hot enough that you and your hair are wet with sweat at the race's end.  Showers were never as welcome back home than after a than a day at the track at a  the race, whatever kind of race it was.

Oddly I'm looking forward to this whole shebang.  I've never liked the spotlight; as a PR consultant, I put my clients on the magazine covers, not me.

As this appearance continues, I'll continue to take you backstage to see what goes on there.  For example, there will be a green room with snacks and water.  So - Green Rooms really do exist!  Stay tuned.

Wednesday, March 27, 2019

Spring Has Sprung! Watch What Your Dog/Cat Is Eating.

And Summer is getting out the shorts for June 21st when it officially opens.   Spring arrived March 20th.  Not quite old hat yet with the little showers that are expected with it.

The flowers are beginning to bud and then swiftly become flowers.  It's a good season of hope for us, but it's very bad for your dog or cat.

The following are poisonous to both:

Lily   Daffodil    Oleander    Lily of the Valley    Tulip    Begonia    Hyacinth

If you are planting these bulbs, and your pet is "helping," keep an eye on them as you would a curious (and stealthy)  toddler.  If they do manage to sneak past you - call your vet!

 If it's a weekend or holiday - call the ASPCA Animal Poison Control Center at 888-426-4435

Monday, March 25, 2019

Reading - But What Do You Call It?

The genre is new to me and it is this:  A biography is treated like fiction.  Dialogue included as well as motives, reactions and every day life.  It certainly can make "history" interesting and the scholars that explored and wrote this genre all claim massive amounts of time doing research (or so they say.)

"That Churchill Woman" by Stephani Barron, $28   376 pages

This particular Churchill woman referenced is Jennie (Jerome) Churchill, an American, Winston Churchill's mother.  Jennie and Randolph got engaged after a 3-day courtship.  ("O impetuous fools!") However both sets of parents objected (Jennie was 19) and dowry negotiations dragged on for something like another six months.  

Better both should have forgotten all about it.  Randolph was gay and died of 4th stage syphilis due to an unwise liaison in his past.   He was 61.   Jennie claimed to her lover, the dashing Count Charles Kinsky, of Austria, that she and Lord Randy did it once - the honeymoon - resulting in the birth of Winston. Thus she was not at risk for syphilis (and neither was Kinsky)  which had arrived much later in the marriage.   

The couple's second son was widely believed to have had a different father than Randy, denied by Jennie.  Jennie, understandably had a vast number of … flirtations.   Randolph said the child was his issue.  Matter settled. 

Jennie and Kinski went back and forth in their affair.  They loved each other but she refused to abandon all and run away with him after she discovered the little matter of 4th stage syphilis.  She said that she had married for better or worse.  Instead when his madness became impossible to handle, she took him and his doctor on a round-Asia tour to get him out of the public eye that ended abruptly when he became so ill, it was feared he would die on the ship.  A coffin was ordered, stowed below and accompanied the little party all the way back home.  But he died at home with Winston and Jennie present.

All and all, it was a fairly riveting read and I recommend it. 

Saturday, March 23, 2019

Current News - Sorta

I knew that if I poked around in the 'net, I'd find something that might amuse.  While it's not funny when someone makes a blindingly huge error, nevertheless, if you're something of a cynic …

Barbra Streisand is in the news for having opined that Michael Jackson's desires (pedophile) were "his desires."

Scathing comments followed and I am grinning as I type.

Macy's is having a sale on little boys pants - half off.

The McJackson burger - 50 years old meat in a 10 year old bun.

How could you tell when Michael Jackson was having a party?  All the Big Wheels parked in his driveway.

Re a rumor that a young Miss Streisand was included in an 8mm porno film that she later spent a fortune trying to retrieve every single copy of same.  Comment after this - "So did the donkey."

Friday, March 22, 2019

Today: A New Experience On Which To Report

Pictured:  the cast for next weekend's performance.  To publicize it, Bob Mueller the producer has arranged for several of us to be interviewed by Michael Hixson, the Entertainment columnist for the local paper the Daily Breeze.

My turn in the barrel is at 9:15 a.m. today when I am to call him and be interviewed for this extravaganza.

What makes this especially interesting to me is that while working as a freelance photo journalist and then later with my own extremely modest PR shop, I interviewed a great many other people, but was never interviewed myself.

This is going to be extremely interesting for these reasons:  we're both writers and we interview/have interviewed a lot of people.   We undoubtedly have different styles.  I'm looking forward to seeing his, to on-the-fly figuring out what angle he's looking for and how to give him what he wants efficiently and on point.

I think of it as a tutorial of sorts and am anxious for it to be 9:15 a.m.


A brief bout with phone tag and game on.  First of all Mr. Hixon has a very pleasant voice and a non-threatening manner.  My style back then was simply to smile a lot.  A smile is heard in your voice.  And then I sounded non-threatening.

My only problem was being asked a direct question - what's your piece about?  Damned if I know how to give a brief answer on that one.   I got tangled up in sequence of events and fell back on the lameness of  "Well, it's more of an anecdote than a story -- with a beginning, middle tragedy and a happy ending."

How did I get into writing?  Reply:  when I found out you can make more money for photos if you write the caption and the story - I'm a mercenary I told him.  Followed that up with, "I think you're probably the same - we can't not write when explaining "And the Best Blog Is:  Word of Mouth."

All in all, points and game to Michael Hixson.  The Daily Breeze should rightfully take great pride in his work.  


Thursday, March 21, 2019

My Cat Is Smarter Than Your Cat So Hah!

Much being made today of a cat that when his owners accidentally closed the bathroom door denying him access to the litter box, he went to a new bag, slit it open with a claw and pooped in the new bag.

Very smart, granted.  But:  Consider the following -
Fred wants kibbles.  So he knocks something off of a table which gets our attention and then he trots confidently down the upstairs hall cabinet where two kinds of kibbles are stored.

 The diet ones are in the manufacturer's bag.  The non-diet are in an empty red plastic coffee can.  If we put out one and he wanted the other he simply does not respond by following us down the hall to his dishes, but stays planted right in front of the cabinet until we come back and get some of the other - then (and only then) he trots happily along right behind us.

Fred loves his morning inspection tour of the balcony - any squirrel visits overnight?  Dead birds?  Anything going on below him in the back yard?  He knows that when I put his collar on him, he gets to go out.  So he marches over, plops down on his butt and Looks At Me. I put his collar on and let him out.

Because our mornings are cool-ish, I slide the balcony door shut behind him.  When he wants back in, he rattles the screen door and sits there on the mat and Stares At Me.   I've had one eye on the door and the other on the newspaper I'm trying to read so he gets prompt service - speeded up by the screen noise.

Most important was this training.  Cats love to climb - avoidance of ground enemies.  Fred is not immune - he likes the top of the grandfather clock; goes from the floor to the desk to the top of the wardrobe and there he lies, stately, checking out the world.

To get him down I snap my fingers and point at the floor nodding at it as I do.  When he hops on down, he gets lots of verbal praise "Good boy!  Good boy!"  Dogs are suckers for a good boy (or girl - sorry PC crowd)  but cats aren't usually said his vet when I demonstrated for her.  Frankly and not to brag, she was amazed.  At an aloof, snotty cat working for words and not a food reward.

So to the cat whose thoughtless owners locked the bathroom Fred counsels, "Next time shit in a shoe.  They'll never do that again.  Best regards, Fred."

Wednesday, March 20, 2019

I Didn't Know She Was Still Alive!

A long time ago, the Girl Singer at the Jazz Club sang a haunting song, insanely popular during WW2, called "We'll Meet Again."  The artist who introduced it was one Vera Lynn.  The lyrics run (loosely)  "We'll meet again; don't know where, don't know when but I know we'll meet again some sunny day!  Keep smiling through as you always do 'cause I know we'll meet again some sunny day."

You can see why that would resonate with those alive in WW2.  I like it so much that I left instructions for it to be played at the "afters" when we're dead.  It's also blessed with a very danceable beat.

It was also the background music for the atom bomb explosions in "Dr. Strangelove."

Today the Notable Birthdays column in the Daily Breeze led off with Vera Lynn, 102!  I really had associated her so strong with WW2 that I just assumed that she had died long ago.  How wrong I was.

Her life was filled (justifiably so) with awards and citations (the good kind; not traffic violations) and she was made first an Officer of the Order of the British Empire in 1969 which was followed by a Dame Commander of the Order of the British Empire in 1975.  This latter won her the Dame in front of her name.

She married Harry Lewis (saxophonist) in 1941; they had a daughter - now 71 - and they were married 57 years before he died in 1998.

Vera, I'm sorry I thought you were dead when you were actually just fine.  When I see you, I'll apologize.  Keep smiling through!  

Tuesday, March 19, 2019

Pardon My Nerves This Morning ....

My Tuesday should have been a Monday as far as problems are concerned.  The first shock to my nervous system was the first e-mail of the day informing me that I had canceled my domain ( which I most certainly hadn't!

That sucker cost me several days, numerous purpose tremors and a general malaise.  After putting it together, the very last thing I would do would be to cancel it.

But to my joy, after I finally got into my account at, I got help, renewed it and paid them $98 to get it back.  Don't rat me out but I would have paid more.

This is the first time since 2000 that I had minimal fuss (try working with online and got a problem solved in eight minutes.

But given my experiences in cyber space, we will see what tomorrow brings.

For a bit of levity and perhaps a laugh, consider what we saw driving north to Culver City to our CPA with our 2018 taxes.  We're on Sepulveda, just about to pass Jefferson off to our left, when looking idly out of the window I spotted this - Secret Pole-Dance Studio.

Food for thought indeed.  I noticed the building did not have windows and after I got home and pulled up their Website I saw why.  Classes are most assuredly not made up exclusively for  the young and lissome one might expect considering my first thought was, "They have a university?"
And given our destination (tax guy) whether attending would be a write-off in the future?

Numerous photos of the classes - which include lap dancing - showed me a galaxy of  beefalos bending, stretching and assuming coy poses.  The copy allowed as to how these classes are a good workout (the pole would bend in half of some of them attempted to climb it) and "release a woman's inner sexuality."  With presumably a pecan pie and an chocolate cake joining in.

There are two locations:
Secret Pole-Dancing Studio
11409 Jefferson Boulevard, Culver City - 9 poles  and
12913 Hawthorne Boulevard, Torrance - 11 poles!

Just in case your inner sexuality is bangin' at the door to freedom.

Monday, March 18, 2019

Talkin' Texas

Reader's Digest runs a regular column called "Toward More Picturesque Speech" but I propose a simple trip to Texas to become the most colorful sumbitch in your circle of friends and strangers.

I am lucky enough to have more than several relatives in South Texas.  Every one of them is a delight to listen to as most of Texas clearly wants to entertain any passing non-natives.

Some samples gleaned from various sources such as Texas Monthly,  Dan Jenkins (my late grammar instructor)  who gave us such, "Got a problem? "Money whip it!"  To shapely adorables of dubious morality - "Fifties and hundreds over here!"  "Bangin' her like a screen door in a twister."

Describing terrorists "...Or some other pack of off-brand foreigners who dress silly."  Describing a Board of Directors as in "I was surrounded by bobble-head dolls."  

Random Selection:

Texas has four seasons:  Flood, Drought, Blizzard, Twister.

Hotter than a stolen tamale

So foggy that the birds are walking.

Shy as a mail order bride

So hot the hens are laying hard-boiled eggs.

Useless as an ash tray on a motorcycle

Re a pre-marital pregnancy:  They ate supper 'fore they said, "Grace."

Astute readers will notice that none of the above involve any vulgarity.  They are simply witty ways to describe most anything nicely but with some zip to it.  

Sunday, March 17, 2019

When App Application Goes Too Far

A headline on Drudge caught my eye about the new iPhone 11 which, 'tis rumored, to have three cameras (with no camera opening; shooting right through the glass) and will fold into thirds to make screens larger and - drum roll - wait for it!  a fart detector!!!

I could not come up with anything even remotely necessary about this third feature.  So I clicked on and read that a Headline Editor had just been having some fun.  This fart part is 'way down the road if, in fact it is used at all,  and is meant to sniff out poisonous gases in homes and other locations where it will ring an alarm to alert iPhone11 owners.

So much for "Pull my finger! ha ha ha!  Gotcha!"

Saturday, March 16, 2019

Further Digestion of the Reader's Digest...

And once again, I do the heavy lifting so you won't have to (sigh)

I ordered a bed from Ikea and they sent me a tree trunk and a saw.

Everybody's a tough guy until they have to use a screwdriver overhead for two minutes.

Movies show people kissing in the rain, but I want a guy who'll run out there and get the cushions off of the porch chairs when the weather starts kicking up.

How come it takes so little time for a child who is afraid of the dark to become a teenager who wants to stay out all night?

My husband is so good at home repairs that they have a special VIP area for him in the emergency room.

HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY  May the parade start on time; may a Budweiser Clydesdale not step on your foot, and the green beer not run out.

Friday, March 15, 2019

Let the Religious Wars Rage On ...

The Spanish Inquisition...Huguenots run out of France … Holocaust … 911 …  add: New Zealand mosque attacks …

Religious wars are not new anywhere on the globe.  The best advice?  Never Forget.

Someone even more cynical than I am might quietly think, "Well, with New Zealand, we've (non-Muslims) finally got skin in the game."

Thursday, March 14, 2019

Not Good Enough for the Daily Breeze?

Well la di dah!  I'll just run it right here!

Letters to the Editor

Dear Sirs:

Perhaps our California Governor Gavin Newsom is unaware that in his ban on actually executing those who so richly deserve it, he is defying the court, judges and juries that put him/her there.

Nina Murphy

Wednesday, March 13, 2019

It's Not "Leggo my Leggo!"

It's how to bring waffles into gourmet status from a foodie magazine.  If you're kind of twisted or confused as to what constitutes propah things to put on regular waffles.

Forthwith, for your judgement - and judging is not solely a pinko, Commie, fag activity - here are a variety of what - a food magazine for the homesick for various family, traditional meals featured in the April/May issue.

Bananas Foster Waffles - topping is:  sliced bananas, butter, brown sugar and booze.

Coffee Butter Waffles - caramelized bacon, maple syrup and "coffee butter" mix the two together?  They didn't say.

Lemon and Blueberry Waffles - lemon curd and blueberries, whipped cream and lemon zest

Nutella Waffles - peanut butter, Nutella, bananas and a sprinkle of crushed peanuts.

Croque-Madame Waffles - waffle with bechemal sauce (white gravy to us country folks) with sliced ham and over-easy egg on top.

Churro Waffles - top waffles with cinnamon, whipped cream and dulce de leche sauce.

PBJ Waffles - spread the waffle with peanut or almond butter, then top with fresh berries of your choice.

I would say "Bon appetit!" but that's another food magazine.


Tuesday, March 12, 2019


The magazine's purple prose re Hawaiian Chili Water was … deceptive.  To hear them tell about it, households in Hawaii cannot function without a bottle or two languishing in the refrigerator, waiting for dinner while another couple of bottles are brewing and waiting their turn on the table.

My sister's remarks ran yesterday; today "D" told me he'd never even heard of it let alone seen it being used.  "D" goes to Hawaii annually and probably has for the past 20 years!  Even if it'd been a fad back then, he's still never seen any.

The only conclusion I could come to is:  Saveur lied.  And bad cess to them for it, too!

Monday, March 11, 2019

Of Hawaiian Chili Water and Xylophones

Saveur, a lesser-known foodie magazine, arrived the other day and browsing through it I came across a said-to-be Hawaiian specialty.  Chili Water which accordingly is a condiment on every table in Hawaii, including one's home.

Never having been there and not planning to go, I asked family and friends who have been there.  In some cases, many times.  Only one response so far, and it was from my sister.  She said she'd never seen it because the family stayed in condos and largely cooked their own meals.  Thus, she knew nothing about it.

What particularly intrigued me in the article was the assertion that Chili Water is also sipped (like fine wine?) to cut the cloying sweetness of some Hawaiian foods.

8 oz.  water
2 oz. white vinegar
1 teas. kosher salt
1 clove garlic, crushed
1 to 3 fresh red chili peppers

Boil the water, add everything else, pour into a clean jar and store the jar in a cool place for two days and then begin using it, storing it in the refrigerator.  The type chilis used will determine the final amount of heat generated.  Mahalo.

Yesterday's monthly South Bay New Orleans Jazz Club meeting's featured band was a quartet:
Piano, drums, and the triple-threat - he played trombone, cornet and clarinet - and a xylophone guy!

My mind instantly flashed back to the old "Ed Sullivan Show" - remember that?  This quartet gave good value for whatever pittance the club is able to pay the featured bands.  Their set ran a half an hour longer than booked, due largely I think, to the fact that each number seemed to last at least 10 minutes.

Nevertheless it was enjoyable and we did.  But the band I love to see is coming on Sunday, April 14th, from 2 to 4 p.m. and it's the Youth-oriented - you must be 13 to 20 years old, be able to read music and love jazz.  These kids put on a wonderful show, complete with uniforms, and the front row band name on shields in front of the first row of players to hide the music stands.  Tremendously nostalgic sight and especially with kids doing the playing.  I'll mention this opportunity to see some good, focused, young adults until closer to the date.

Meanwhile you can make Hawaiian chili water?

Saturday, March 9, 2019

International Women's Day

First of all what does Int'l Women's Day mean or do or accomplish?  Hell if I knew so I looked it up.  This day, traditionally March 8th, is held to celebrate women's achievements.

Apparently the memo for this glorious event never reached the ladies of Baghoulz, Syria, who were gathered at a screening point there.  It is reported that a group of 10 of them, disguised in their burkas and veils and black robes (total anonymity) pointed their index fingers to the sky which in that group  is meant to mean "the oneness of God."  Only the index finger is used - could it be a truncated "Heil Hitler"? salute?

Another batch threw rocks at photographers, clearly hoping for a hit on their cameras.  They threw in at no extra cost, the news flash that the photogs were pigs.    

A female reporter who had stupidly (editor's opinion) not covered her hair had it grabbed by one of these viragos and was asked (at peak volume) "Have you not read the Koran?  Are you not ashamed?!"

Another woman took the opportunity to rail at a female reporter in jeans or pants was warned that "God curses women who resemble men!"

There are two International Women's Days - the second is United Nations Day for Women's Rights and International Peace.  Uh, huh.

Friday, March 8, 2019

Sad News for Admirers of Humor in the Written Word

A master humorist has upped and died on us.  Richie, reading the sports pages this morning, announced "Dan Jenkins died."  "Oh, shit!" I replied.  Richie went on, "He was 89."  I reflected on this additional tidbit and said, philosophically, "Well, he had a good run."  But I felt badly anyhow.

I should have remembered what he himself said, apparently on the death of someone he was fond of.  "All day long, I have been telling myself it's only a merry-go-round.  Some people fall off quicker than others.  No big mystery."

Jenkins was born December 2, 1929, in Ft. Worth.  After his parents divorced his grandparents raised him.  He died March 7, 2019, in a hospice facility as a result of Congestive Heart Failure and the effects of a fall.  He leaves wife June, sons Danny and Marty and daughter Sally (also a sports writer of some repute.)

Some quotes:
"What I know about Dubai.  It's one of those over-there-somewhere-places where they make sand."

"Laughter is the only thing that cuts trouble down to a size where you can talk to it."

"If a caddy can help your game, you don't know how to play golf."

"Type fast, get it done and go to a bar."   AMEN!

RIP, Dan Jenkins and thank you so much for the laughs and a very colorful way of expressing various serious matters such as your golf game, crooked zebras in football and other matters of national interest.

Thursday, March 7, 2019


Trust me on this!   This is the 4th time the hyacinth has bloomed in the balcony window box. Rain and all.

Wednesday, March 6, 2019

Goat Yoga; Puppy Yoga - What's Next? Rhino Yoga?

Something new in the vast world of yoga techniques and styles.  Based on various sites' information, classes  can be taken in a barn or a cement brewery floor (free beer when class is over) and, locally, the South Coast Botanic Gardens.  (See them for schedule.)

What concerned me about this new fad was the probability that goats hooves are sharp.  I visualized post-class a lot of women with shredded tops (and backs) and quite possibly puncture wounds where the goat had frolicked.  I remembered a stray bit of information regarding PSI and a 120 lb. woman in spike heels.  The little dot that is the end of the spike exerts 600 lbs. pressure.  This was explained to me in a survive an attack class in New York.

The goats used in yoga range in age from a few weeks to two years.  A Nigerian Dwarf goat (used frequently) weighs 30 to 40 lbs.  A regular goat (so to speak) weights 60 lbs.  Readers were advised to leave their own mats at home and rent one ($3 to $5) from the leader of the class.  Goats are not potty-trained.

It seems a natural leap to something smaller and … softer pawed.  Let the puppies loose!  The biggest is only about 10 lbs. and all four paws are soft.  Naturally a Great Dane is going to be a bigger puppy than a Chihuahua.  With bigger paws where little paws could stab you like a paring knife.

So, bearing in mind the desirability of larg-ish, flat hooves, I am considering the merits of the baby rhino.   Weight may be an issue - at birth they can weight 88 to 140 lbs.  But:  they 've got great big flat hooves!  How much of a workout do you want?  Go for it!

Tuesday, March 5, 2019

The Sadness of British Royal Celebrations

Yesterday "the Family" attended a royal to-do when Queen Elizabeth threw a reception to honor her son Charles' "50 years of service."  Which begs the question of service to whom?

Charles has been jobless for 50 years!  This is something to celebrate?  At least he's not living in Mum's basement of Buckingham Palace.  It is doubtful anyone could live in it anyhow.  One of the "lost rivers" - The Tyburn - runs directly beneath Buckingham Palace!

Mum Lizzie had him declared the Prince of Wales on July 26, 1958 when he was nine years old.  He was not formally named P of W until July 1, 1969 when he was 20.

Present were the Queen, Charles, Camilla, Prince William, wife Kate, Prince Harry, wife Megan, and the Duke and Duchess of Sussex.  Prince Philip, age 97, was not there.  Prime Minister Teresa May was also a guest. Early reports of the event made special mention of the fact that Kate and Megan were seen to be quite affable to one another.

 This isn't supposed to happen, but QE2 was wearing a teal jacket and Ms. May a suit of teal in the same shade.

The sadness (to me) was that 50 years of being literally on the dole is a matter to be celebrated?  And worse, not being able to get the job until your mother is dead!  Is that morbid enough?The Brits are "different" one must grant them that.

Monday, March 4, 2019

Bleach Advice

Re the article on San Diego streets bleached clean, "Raffish" who lives there reminded me yesterday that the formula is one cup of bleach for every nine cups of water. Bleach is powerful stuff!

 He has long been a bleach supporter, specifically for his Three Corals Dojo in San Diego.

He and a co-writer have written a lengthy piece on Asian customs which you can read by Googling:

"Nitten Soji and the prevention of infection RH Gutierrez"

Pulling it up for the photos illustrating it alone is worth a look.

Sunday, March 3, 2019

A Difference In the Sans - Diego and Francisco

Both have significant numbers of homeless people.  Both have a lack of public toilets; ergo human waste dots their city's landscapes

San Francisco  Back in 2015 a revamped city bus was converted into a two showers with changing room and toilet vehicle that served the homeless public.  This conveyance used water from fire hydrants that  had been run through a propane heat source.  There was chatter about adding two more similar buses but none in further news that I could ascertain.

The most recent effort to combat fecal waste on the streets was the issuance of an app for your phone for access to the poop map of San Francisco.  The, uh, brown waste shown looks like a Hersey's kiss. Which is enough to put anyone off of a visit to San Francisco.  When dogs can't poop outdoors, but humans are issued maps against human poop there is something very wrong here.  

San Diego  To combat a hepatitis A mini-epidemic which has killed 15 and left 400 ill, prompted their new program.  Find and flush the poop and used needles with household bleach.  Let sit for 10 minutes, then remove the offending items.  Spray the area with bleach again, wait and pressure hose to finish removal and cleaning.

The city does spot maintenance every week and then the full treatment outlined above is done every two weeks.   I would assume that there is some sort of warning issued to hapless tourists, but the easiest thing to do is book into the Del Coronado on Coronado Island.  The Del as it is affectionately nicknamed would never tolerate anything as ghastly as so much as a squirrel poop on their grounds.  It would not surprise me to find snipers in the palms shooting at the gulls who were imprudent enough to relieve themselves over the Del's sand.  

Friday, March 1, 2019

But What Happened Then?

I read yesterday's column on Eleanor Roosevelt and Lorena Hickock to the Thurs. Writers (aka South Bay Writers ) and all five of them were interested in Amy Bloom's book White Houses, a real tribute to Bloom and nothing to do with me.  I ran the obit info on two of FDR's squeezes (Lucy Mercer and Missy LeHand) and clearly they also wanted  Eleanor and Hick's information.

Very well.

From one of the last scenes in the book.  Eleanor is visiting Hick in her New York apartment and they are reminiscing.

Hick relates what Eleanor said to her during this last visit ever.  They are sitting in Hick's kitchen, chairs pulled close together.    "Do not make me cry.  Do not come to visit me.  …  I am going to think of us under this tree.  ...and under that beautiful tree in Maryland.  Those cherry blossoms all over us?  That's what I'll be thinking of."

Eleanor Roosevelt  born October 11, 1884
Died November 7, 1962 of cardiac failure complicated by tuberculosis and aplastic anemia,  in New York with family around her.  She is buried in the Rose Garden in Hyde Park.

Lorena Hickock was born March 7, 1893
Died March 1, 1968, of diabetes, blind in one eye and plagued by arthritis.