Summer in December

We were only 6 hours into the first official day of winter when a Winter Storm Warning went into effect this morning.  A wintry mix has been falling since before dawn.  Prompted by the north wind, ice-covered branches are now doing a crackling dance in the darkness outside our home.  So far, the darkness has stayed OUTSIDE our home.  But, as Glen Campbell used to sing when he was a pseudo-Wichita lineman, "if it snows that stretch down south won't ever stand the strain." 

Snow is forecast for tonight.

Even though Old Man Winter wasted no time flexing his muscles, I did find three things today that gave me hope that Spring will come again:

1.  After today, the daylight starts lasting ever so slightly longer each day;

2.  A seed catalog arrived in the mailbox with tantalizing pictures of flowers and vegetables and fruit and berries; and

3.  A documentary on the Beach Boys current "Summer in December" concert tour was on TV.  2013 is the Beach Boys 50th anniversary as a group.   I recorded the concert on AXS TV earlier this month during a "free preview" weekend.  I also recorded Skyfall, the latest James Bond flick.  At the end of Skyfall in the credits it was noted that 50 years had elapsed since 007 first appeared on the scene.  It seems the Energizer bunny is not the only thing that keeps on going and going and going.  I know how James Bond keeps going - five different actors have played the movie role:  Sean Connery (seven movies) (my favorite), George Lazenby (who?)(one movie) , Roger Moore (seven movies) , Timothy Dalton (2 movies), Pierce Brosnan (four movies), and Daniel Craig (two movies so far).

But how do the Beach Boys do it?  I can't say for sure, but the "Summer in December" TV special was sponsored in part by Ageless Male Testosterone treatment. 

When I went with my wife and friends to see Liverpool Legends, a group that impersonates the Beatles, the song they performed that I found most ironic was "When I'm 64".  The Beach Boys song that once resonated with me but doesn't now is "Wouldn't it be nice it we were older? (Then we wouldn't have to wait so long)."  Short answer in 1966 - YES!  Short answer in 2013 - NOOOOOOOO!!!  If the Beach Boys want a hit song today they should write a sequel called "Wouldn't it be nice if we were younger? (Then you wouldn't have to wait until my ageless male kicks in)."

The crowd at the concert spanned the generations, from adolescent cuties to people my age who grew up with the Beach Boys.  On many of the songs, Baby Boomers were inspired to get up and bust a move.  The saying "Dance like no one is watching" may look good on a wall plaque, but I'm guessing some of those adolescent cuties may require therapy to get the image of their grandparents shaking a tailfeather to "Little Old Lady From Pasadena" out of their heads. 

Though it may have been "Summer in December" on AXS TV, the weather around here wasn't cooperating.  "Anyone know how to get ice off of a satellite receiver?" asked a Facebook friend.  Helpful suggestions followed.  My favorite was "Have another beer and maybe a way to deliver a stream of body temperature liquid onto it will come to you".   Our satellite receiver is attached to our deck so that MIGHT work.  If my Facebook friend's is on his ice-covered roof, however, he might soon be paraphrasing Beach Boys songs, like "I'll have no FUN, FUN, FUN cause the ambulance is hauling me away" or "Help me up, Rhonda!"

It's snowing now. 

Better post this before an ice and snow covered limb brings down both our power line and our internet.

Happy First Day of Winter! (Hurry Spring!!)

Young Dogs, Old Men, and No Water in the Pipes

 

 



My friend Tom and I took advantage of a rare 65 degree December day yesterday to go biking on the Katy Trail.  It was all sunshine and tailwinds from Jefferson City to the Hartsburg trail head.  There we met two ladies who had arrived ahead of us.  One was contentedly sitting in the sun.  The other was slightly distraught.  The restrooms at the Hartsburg trail head were closed for plumbing repairs.  I’m sure it was her consternation as she contemplated riding her bike back to Jefferson City, the better part of an hour, while “holding it” that brought a frown to her face.

She is one of several women I have met on the trail who have bemoaned the fact that restrooms are an hour apart on the Katy Trail.  Funny, but I have never met a guy who thought there should be more restrooms on the heavily wooded trail. 

After the women headed back east, Tom & I were relaxing in the sun when a large black dog arrived on the scene.  Underneath the currently non-functioning drinking fountain was a pan normally full of water for passing pets.  It was empty.  Not one to let a setback discourage him, the friendly mutt approached us.  Tom fetched his water bottle and sprayed a stream into the dog’s mouth which he happily lapped up.  Occasionally, the dog’s tongue actually lapped against the spout on Tom’s water bottle.  The dog seemed unconcerned.  I think he could sense that Tom was the type of guy who had had all his shots.

His thirst quenched, the dog was then ready for some fun.  He left for a few moments and came back dragging a large branch.  It was time to play fetch.  Since a branch is a somewhat unwieldy thing to throw, Tom broke off a two-foot length and hurled it across the parking lot.  The dog was after it like a flash, retrieved it, and laid it at Tom’s feet, ready for another throw.  Each time Tom tried to throw it a little further and each time the dog arrived almost in time to catch it before it hit the ground.  The game ended when Tom jokingly (I think) announced that he thought he had torn his rotator cuff.  Satisfied, the dog headed back to wherever he called home and we mounted our bikes for the ride back to the truck.  What was a tailwind on our trip TO Hartsburg when we were fresh was a headwind on our way BACK when we were tired. 

A few miles from Jefferson City we passed the ladies we had met at Hartsburg.  I didn’t ask, but I imagine the one was still “holding it”.  I have a helpful suggestion – How about a GoGirl? Also known as a “F.U.D.” (female urination device), a GoGirl (http://www.go-girl.com/) allows a woman to pee standing up, thus opening up a whole new range of restroom opportunities.  Theoretically, a woman would never again ride a bike into a forest and emerge on the other side still needing to go.

Yeah, I know . . . my wife wouldn’t try it either when we drove the Oregon Trail and actual restrooms were miles and miles out of the way.

But it might just make a nice stocking stuffer for anyone stumped about what to get your wife/girlfriend/significant other for Christmas. 

I think I’ll buy one for all three.

They even come in camo.

When the Going Gets Tough the Tough Go Shopping. The REALLY Tough Go Shopping on Black Friday.

My main Thanksgiving meal, the first of several until our turkey supply is depleted, is over.  I figure I have an hour before the football games and tryptophan kick in so I’d better type fast.  I imagine some eager shoppers are already lining up for the Black Friday Eve sales that begin at 6 PM on Thanksgiving. 
 

Henry Ward Beecher once lamented “Alas!  Where is human nature so weak as in the book store?”  If Mr. Beecher was still alive, I wonder if he would change his lament to “Alas!  Where is human nature so weak as in the e-book store?”  The answer to his question might be Black Friday sales.
 

Sinclair Lewis died when 1951 was only 10 days old, but his observation that “People will buy anything that is one to a customer” still rings true 60+ years later.
 

Erma Bombeck once opined “Shopping is a woman thing. It's a contact sport like football. Women enjoy the scrimmage, the noisy crowds, the danger of being trampled to death, and the ecstasy of the purchase.”  Or as one unidentified woman instructed her grandkids “Get in there in front of me and block and tackle and make your grandma proud!”

In honor of the economic spurt that we know as Black Friday, here is a plethora of observations about shopping from a diverse cross-section of America:

“Women usually love what they buy, yet hate two-thirds of what is in their closets.” ― Mignon McLaughlin

The quickest way to know a woman is to go shopping with her - Marceline Cox

I always say that shopping is cheaper than a psychiatrist - Tammy Faye Bakker 

Whoever said money can't buy happiness simply didn't know where to go shopping.  ~Bo Derek

The other line moves faster.  ~Etorre's Observation 

A bargain is something you can't use at a price you can't resist.  ~Franklin P. Jones

Shopping:  The fine art of acquiring things you don't need with money you don't have.  ~Author Unknown 

Once again, we come to the Holiday Season, a deeply religious time that each of us observes, in his own way, by going to the mall of his choice.  ~Dave Barry 

Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination.  ~Oscar Wilde 

 

Black Friday: Because only in America, people trample others for sales exactly one day after being thankful for what they already have - Anon 

One unnamed shopper rejoiced that “Yeah!  My medical bills for the Black Friday Store fights are were less than what I saved!" That may sound far-fetched until you consider that police received a report in Sacramento that one eager shopper in line outside a K-Mart was threatening to stab others in line.  That brings one question to my mind:  K-MART? REALLY? 

Dave Barry explained the religious significance of Black Friday (or something) as follows: “Once again we find ourselves enmeshed in the Holiday Season, that very special time of year when we join with our loved ones in sharing centuries-old traditions such as trying to find a parking space at the mall.  We traditionally do this in my family by driving around the parking lot until we see a shopper emerge from the mall, then we follow her, in very much the same spirit as the Three Wise Men, who 2,000 years ago followed a star, week after week, until it led them to a parking space.” 

Me?  I miss the good old days when Back Friday was actually on Friday. 

Happy Thanksgiving!

Advice From an Old Sailor Outside Old Navy

I got a lotta muscles but I only got one eye
I never hurts nobody and I never tell a lie.

As I composed my thoughts for this blog, a burly person with “I AM WHAT I AM” tattooed in bold letters on their right forearm sat across from me.  No, it wasn’t my wife.  It was a guy I’d never met, though I readily determined we had at least two things in common: 

1.     An admiration for Popeye the sailor man.  (I yam what I yam and that’s all what I yam); and 

2.     A penchant for finding a comfortable chair while our wives shop.

 

My chair was just outside the entrance to Old Navy in Orlando’s Florida Mall.  Old Navy must be a genetic thing in my family.   My grandson recently shared a picture of a city he had designed & drawn on paper with crayons.  Pointing out the landmarks to me, he explained “Here is the church, here is the school, and here is Old Navy.”  The Florida Mall has 249 stores in addition to Old Navy, from A 2 Z Toys to Zumiez, a “skateboard/snowboard/clothing for people 50 years younger than me store."   The Florida Mall attracts 20,000,000 visitors a year, half of whom chose the same day to visit that we did.  The 510 room Florida Hotel is attached to the Florida Mall for those too weary to make it home after a hard days shopping.   I have learned to pace myself while shopping with my wife, thus the easy chair outside Old Navy.

Though it is only mid-November, Silver Bells played over the mall’s sound system.  “Silver bells, silver bells, It’s Christmas time in the city!”  Not really.  Thanksgiving is still a couple of weeks away.  Though I find it hard to get in the Christmas spirit when it is 78 degrees and the palm trees sway in the breeze, I am trying hard to adapt.

The burly Popeye fan across from me vacated his chair and it was soon taken by a weary grandmother pushing a stroller.  The two-year-old kid occupying the stroller eyed me suspiciously and began to make some noise.  “Don’t mind him” said the grandmother.  “He is in his terrible two’s!”  The kid spotted my package from the M&M store.  “Sorry kid, these are going to melt in my mouth, not yours” I thought to myself.   Under the kid’s steady gaze I selected a white, coconut-flavored M&M from my .86 pound (at $12.99 a pound) bag and popped it into my mouth.  The kid reacted quickly.  He arose from his stroller and created such a clatter his grandma sprang from her chair to see what was the matter!  Oops.  Sorry.  It must have been the Christmas music over the P.A. system that got me writing like Clement Moore.   Grandma then used the wisdom that comes with age to resolve the situation – she took the kid back to his parents, somewhere deep in the bowels of Old Navy.

When my wife appeared, she announced  “I want to go to Pandora.”  The good news was that the Pandora store is the same mall.  The bad news is (A) It is in a different zip code in the same sprawling mall; and (B) It is a jewelry store.  As we began the long trek, I began to ponder “What would Popeye do?”  Just then, more of Popeye’s words of wisdom came to me:  “I’m strong to the finish ‘cause I eat’s me spinach!” 

Taking a green peanut M&M from my bag, I popped it into my mouth.

Close enough.

Diamonds Are Forever, Satellite’s Aren’t

For Sale:  Diamonds Are Forever Yacht - Only $59.5 million



Though the ocean was the primary lure for us on our trip to Florida’s Atlantic coastline, one evening we ventured downtown to Clematis Street.  Clematis Street is described in tourist literature as “the historical heart of downtown West Palm Beach”.   Trendy shops and restaurants of all types sit within view of the intracoastal Waterway, a gathering place for some amazing yachts.  My wife surmised one such super yacht moored there, the 200+ foot “DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER”, is owned by Sean Connery, star of the 1971 James Bond movie of the same name.   If you are interested, it is up for sale for only $59.5 million.

On Thursday evenings the Clematis Street business district features live music in a park just off Flagler Blvd.  The night we were there the band Riverdown was providing visitors with some great, and free, entertainment.

After we decided to stick around for a couple of hours I hiked back to our car to put some more money in the meter.  On the way I stopped to take a photo of some of local scenery, a dozen or so attractive females climbing into a stretch limo.  As I was stopped, a man approached me and stuck out his hand.

“Good evening, sir” he said, shaking my hand.  “My name is Simon.  You will note I have a neat appearance and there is no odor of alcohol when I speak to you.  Yes, I am a man of God”.   Before I could respond, he continued.  “My family and I have been in a homeless shelter but I have now found a job and we have moved into our own home.  Unfortunately, we are having a hard time meeting the $1,340 per month rent.  All we have had to eat today are these banana chips” he said, holding up a package.   Do you think you could help us?” 

Not having yet had dinner, I asked “Maybe . . . how much do you want for those banana chips?” 

Nah, I didn’t really say that.  I might have, but I was so surprised by the whole encounter I didn’t think of saying that.  Sometimes it can take me days to think of a snappy comeback.  Instead, I handed him the four quarters I had left over after filling the parking meter.  Taking them, he smiled, shrugged his shoulders and walked away.  Only 1339 more people like me and the rent is paid for another month! 

As we walked around Clematis Street, enjoying the music and the balmy weather, a half-moon peered down from above.  Somewhere up there, a large European science satellite sent into space to measure gravity had run out of fuel and was gradually succumbing to gravity.  The size of a VW van, the 1.2 ton chunk of metal had the potential to ruin the day of anyone unlucky enough to have it land on them.

In the movie Diamonds are Forever, James Bond’s longtime nemesis Ernst Blofeld threatened to destroy part of the United States with a satellite unless his demands were met.  That ambitious plot was not without its challenges. 

Blofeld to James Bond:  “The satellite is at present over . . . Kansas.  Well, if we destroy Kansas the world may not hear about it for years!”

That may be, but the rent in Cawker City, Kansas, home to the world’s largest ball of twine, was only $353 in 2011. 

Advice to Simon” HEAD WEST, YOUNG MAN!

The Babe Problems of Tiger and Babe

Though most people don’t associate Baltimore with the sunny beaches of Florida,  Southwest Airlines will throw in a trip to Baltimore on the way to Fort Lauderdale from St. Louis and knock $26 off the price of a direct flight.  What a deal!

 

It was in Baltimore on February 6, 1895 that George Herman “Babe” Ruth was born.  By 1930, Babe Ruth was raking in $80,000 a year swatting home runs.  When asked if he felt bad because President Herbert Hoover was only earning $75,000 a year at the time, the Babe reportedly responded “Nah, I had a better year than Hoover.”

As my wife and I prepared to board our flight to Fort Lauderdale in Baltimore, a parade of senior citizens in wheel chairs made their way to the front of the line.  Florida is apparently a pretty popular destination for east coast retirees.  Who knew?  I suspect at least one of those oldsters queuing up at the front of the line saw Babe Ruth, who died on August 16, 1948, play in person.

I chose Southwest Airlines for our trip because (A) the price was affordable, and (B) They do not charge extra for luggage.  What Southwest also does not do is assign seats to passengers.  It's first come, first served (unless you are in a wheel chair, in which case you go to the head of the line).  Instead, Southwest ingenuously lets passengers volunteer to pay extra to move to the front of the line to board the aircraft.  The first 15 people willing to pay an extra $40 go on first.  Next up are the “Early Birds”.  Passengers willing to pay an extra $12.50 are designated as Early Birds and get to board immediately after the Early, Early, Early Birds (wheelchair people) and the Early, Early Birds (people willing to fork over $40).  I forked over the $12.50 in hopes of snagging a window seat.  It worked.  As the last of the passengers unwilling to pay any extra cash to move up in line made their way aboard the plane the flight attendant announced “Folks, the only seats left are middle seats so find one beside someone who smells good and looks OK and sit down.  They may just turn out to be the love of your life!”

After an unremarkable flight, my favorite kind, we arrived in Fort Lauderdale right on time.  If we had driven to Florida as we originally planned we would have been finishing lunch at a Cracker Barrel in Illinois about the time we got off the plane. 

Thirty minutes later we were loading our luggage into a Nissan SUV driven by Terry, the wife of Joe, my wife's cousin.  Joe and Terry split their time between Melbourne, Australia, and Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, but they visit the U.S. frequently.   Last year they came to Missouri for a visit and we took them to Branson.  After all, how can you claim to be world travelers if you've never been to Branson?  They even got to meet Herkimer at Presley's Country Jubilee.

“Nice car!” I commented as we left the airport.  “Yes” said Terry, in her Aussie accent.  “The rental car company tried to give us a free upgrade to something called a Dodge Charger.  I didn’t know what it was so I chose this instead.  When the rental lady said ‘that’s ok, I’m sure someone else will want it’, the guy behind me in line said ‘I’LL TAKE IT!’”

We watched the sun rise Monday through large glass panes while sitting in Lambert Airport in St. Louis.   By the time the sun set Monday evening we were relaxing on a balcony overlooking the Atlantic Ocean.  Propelled by winds exceeding 40 mph, we marveled as the large waves the locals sometimes refer to  as “an angry ocean” crashed on the shoreline.  It was not too far from where we sat that Tiger Woods’ once crashed his car into a tree after suffering injuries and eventually losing his home to a storm of another kind, “an angry Elin”.    Tiger has rebounded nicely and is currently dating Olympic skier Lindsey Vonn.  Though he and Lindsey apparently have some spirited arguments as well, none have reportedly involved Lindsey whacking Tiger on the head with a nine-iron.

 

Babe Ruth could identify with Tiger's troubles with the opposite sex.  The Babe had his problems with women as well.  He once said "I'll promise to go easier on drinking and get to bed earlier, but not for you, for $50,000 or $250,000 will I give up women.  They're too much fun."

 

Some things never change. 

 

They just get more expensive.



Wanna Get Away?

For months, October 26, 2013 has been reserved on my calendar to pick up our Australian kin from a cruise ship terminal in Port Canaveral, Fl.  As the Beatles once sang though, “life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans.”  In this case, death is what happened.  My dad passed away in what my grandmother used to refer to as “the wee, small hours of the morning” on October 26, 2013.

My first inclination was to cancel the trip altogether.  Instead, what was to have been a 3+ week road trip was shortened to 13 days.  Instead of driving, my aerophobic wife and I would fly.  After a couple months (at least) of worry and stress, touring nursing homes and finalizing funeral arrangements, a change of scenery sounded pretty good.  We would temporarily trade Ridge Road and Murphy Ford Road and Nine Hills Road for Ocean Ave and Bamboo St and Beach Ave.

But first we had to get there.

We left home shortly after watching the KC Chiefs improve their record to 9-0.   Fortuitously, we were able to leave our our home in the care of a man highly recommended by his parole office for early release and whom the Hollywood Argyles might describe as “a mean motor scooter and a bad go-getter”.  His backup is a large, black, rather surly cat, not a pair to be trifled with in any case.

After a restless night’s sleep at Marriott’s Lambert airport hotel, we boarded the 5:40 am shuttle to the airport.  That’s when the real fun began.  Though we already had our boarding passes and availed ourselves of curbside check-in for our bags, we still had to pass through security.  The first line we came too was fairly short.  Unfortunately, it was reserved for politicians, billionaires, rock stars and foreign royalty.  We took our place at the end of the second line - a lengthy line designated “everybody else”. 

Security is always a challenge for my wife.  With a C-Pap breathing machine and two titanium knees, my wife is the poster girl for TSA training on flight risks.  There is no metal detector in existence my wife won’t set flashing and/or buzzing.  St. Louis was no exception.  I, on the other hand, walked through with nary a sound and began to redress and gather both mine and my wife’s belongings.  When I was fully clothed again, I glanced over and saw the TSA agent rounding second base headed for third with my wife.  That’s about how far I made it with her  – on our honeymoon.  I’m not sure how much farther he made it but when I looked back again he was smoking an e-cigarette and catching his breath. 

After we made it to our gate to await our flight, I heard the following announcement over the P.A. system:  “Would the person who left their rings at the security checkpoint please return and claim them?”  Nope – wasn’t us, but I could definitely understand how easy it would be to do that.  I hope that person was not already on board a plane.

Wife (to husband returning from business trip) – Where is your wedding ring?   Husband – Uh, er, umm – DANG!  I must have left it at the airport security checkpoint!   Wife – Choice (A) I want a divorce!  Or (B) OK, well let’s go shopping for a new ring – FOR ME!

Next stop – Baltimore.  Hey, in case you haven’t shopped airfares lately, tightwads like me (I prefer the term “frugal”) and direct flights are a rare combo.                                                                               

Trading Places

After 8 years of relatively faithful blogging during which I logged over 1600 entries, I was 1 for August, 1 for September, and O for October and November until now.  As Charles Dickens might say about the past 3 months, “It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.”  The best of times has involved my son and his wife, our two exuberant, joyful and joy-inspiring grandkids and friends and relatives that shine the brightest when things seem darkest.  The worst of times was watching the rapid decline in my father’s health since August, punctuated by his funeral on what would have been his 85^th birthday, October 30.

I have now officially replaced my dad as the senior member of my immediate family.  It was an honor I did not seek and one my father fought hard to retain.  A few times near the end, my dad viewed me as the enemy.  Though his weight barely reached triple digits when he finally succumbed, he was still strong enough, feisty enough and frustrated enough to take a swing at me as I was helping him back into his bed not long before he died.   Winston Churchill once observed “There is nothing more exhilarating than to be shot at without result.”  A close second might be having your father (or anyone else, for that matter) take a swing at a part of your anatomy that rhymes with “guts” but is located due south of there without effect.  Even in his weakened condition if my father had worn a 15½-34 size shirt instead of a 15½-31 size shirt Frankie Valli might now be calling me up asking “How the heck do you sing so high?”

I loved my dad a lot but he was a notoriously hard man to please.  He got a lot of free meals at restaurants.  “Always shine the heel of your shoes just as well or better than the toe” he told me when I was a kid.  “When you do something, what people can’t see is just as important as what they can see!”  A man with that attitude is a good man to have working FOR you but a very hard man to work for.  One spring a few years ago Dad asked me to help him put up his purple martin houses.  While we were putting them up he commented “I’m not as stout as I used to be, but when I get to heaven I’ll be strong again!  If I don’t like my house when I get there I’ll be strong enough to remodel it!” 

“Dad” I said, pondering what he had just said, “If you get to heaven and don’t like your house there I think you might want to just keep your mouth shut.”

Maybe not.

Maybe heaven for him is remodeling his heavenly abode and having every tool he could ever imagine for the job and all the lumber is Grade A with no knotholes!  Dad always seemed happiest when he was building something or refinishing something or restoring value to something others considered worthless. 

I’d say that is a pretty good legacy.

And remember: that’s now coming from the oldest surviving nut on my branch of the family tree.

My Dad Being Assisted by Several Present-Opening

Specialists at his two-week early Birthday Party.

He Died a Week Later.

Sticks and Stones May Break Your Bones But It's Words That Really Make the Headlines

A "Little-bitty Cracker Corporation From Arkansas"



I just returned from a brief late-summer getaway to the Ozarks.  On day one we visited Bentonville, Arkansas, a prosperous community of 36,000+ souls in northwest Arkansas. One reason for its prosperity is that it is the headquarters of Walmart, world's largest retailer.

A news article regarding Walmart caught my attention during our visit.  The Rev. Graylan Hagler, arguing in favor of Washington D.C.'s proposed Large Retailer Accountability Act, referred to Walmart as "a little bitty cracker corporation from Arkansas."  Rev. Hagler is upset because Washington, D.C. officials are balking at supporting the LRAA which mandates employers with revenue of over one billion a year pay $12.50 an hour to employees rather than the $8.25 per hour minimum wage that applies to all other retailers. 

I have two questions for Rev. Hagler:

1.  If you consider Walmart "little bitty", what do you consider large? and,

2.  Exactly what is a "cracker"?

Walmart had sales of 446.95 billion dollars in 2012.  Love Walmart or hate it, "little bitty" it's not.  And it didn't get to where it is today by paying 50% higher wages than its competitors.  It got there with low prices, high volume and a lot of hard work.

While in Bentonville we visited the Walmart museum/visitor center, located on the square in what was once a five & dime store owned and operated by Sam Walton.  Sam's first foray into marketing actually took place in Newport, Arkansas but he moved his business to Bentonville when his landlord, P.K. Holmes, refused to renew his lease.  Otherwise, Newport, Arkansas might have been Walmart's home office INSTEAD of Bentonville.  I think Bentonville should erect a statue of P.K. Holmes in gratitude for his decision to force Sam Walton out of Newport and into Bentonville.

During my visit to Walton's Five & Dime/Museum/Visitor Center in Bentonville, I learned several things about Mr. Walton:

1.  Though born in Kingfisher, Ok., he attended Jr. High in Shelbina, Mo.  While in the 8th grade in Shelbina Sam became the youngest Eagle Scout in Missouri history.

2.  He graduated from Hickman High School in Columbia, Mo., where he was voted "most versatile boy."

3.  He graduated from M.U. as "permanent president" of his class with a degree in Economics.

4.  He liked Ford trucks.  His 1979 F-150, dents and all, is on display in the Walmart museum.  When asked why he didn't buy something a little fancier, Sam replied "what am I supposed to use to haul my dogs around in, a Rolls Royce?"



Though I'm sure Rev. Hagler has the well-being of his fellow D.C. citizens at heart, he might want to consider whether Washington, D.C. is better off with Walmart paying the same minimum wage as every other retailer or not paying any wages at all. If the Large Retailer Accountability Act passes I suspect it may subsequently become known as the Large Retailer Relocation Act.

As for the term "cracker", I doubt that  Rev. Hagler mean't it as a term of endearment. Since I think people are way too sensitive these days, I am willing to overlook his ill-chosen adjective.  At least he didn't preface it with "creepy-ass". 

Sam Walton learned a valuable lesson when he was run out of town in Newport.  You can read "the rest of the story" at  http://hbswk.hbs.edu/item/2375.html

As Sam Walton knew, "Customers vote with their feet".  If they aren't treated right they go some place else to shop.  On display in the Walmart museum is a fishing rod that was returned because it "didn't catch fish" and an outdoor thermometer that was returned because "it never has the correct time".

If the Large Retailer Accountability Act passes in Washington, D.C., Rev. Hagler and his flock may learn that corporations vote with their figurative feet as well.  Operating in the red may be a way of life in Washington, D.C., but making a profit isn't optional for businesses, cracker or not.. 

Walkipedia

Though I gain a lot of knowledge from Wikipedia, my main learning resource is “Walkipedia”, the conglomeration of things I have learned while walking around.  

One never-ending source of information is the plethora of knowledge to be had  merely by reading the t-shirts of passersby.  Last Saturday I passed a man who, though he appeared to be down on his luck, it wasn’t for lack of education.  His t-shirt proudly proclaimed “I HAVE A PhD IN LEISUREOLOGY”, which apparently does not pay all that well.

At the Westphalia picnic on Sunday I saw a t-shirt that Cardinal fans can identify with.  On the front was the Cardinals logo.  On the back it said: WE ARE STILL ALIVE WITHOUT #5”.  What was once deemed an act of betrayal by Albert Pujols when he left the Show-Me state is now considered a fortuitous turn of events by many Cards fans.  Albert is collecting his $68,493.15 daily salary from the DL while the LA Angels are having a devil of a time in next to last place in the AL West at 8 games under .500.

After the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, FDR assured the nation that “the only thing we have to fear is fear itself!”  On Saturday I saw a t-shirt with a version of FDR’s famous quote.  It said “THE ONLY THING WE HAVE TO FEAR IS FEAR ITSELF.  AND SPIDERS.”  I’d like to thank the young lady wearing that t-shirt for a good laugh and explain that I was not staring at her chest.  It just takes me awhile to get my trifocals at just the right angle to read a moving t-shirt.

And now, from my Walkipedia archives, are some more of my favorite t-shirt quotes:

The trouble with real life is that there is no danger music.

Without me, it’s just Aweso

It’s Not PMS – It’s You!

Nuttier Than a Squirrel Turd

I’m Not a Gynecologist But I’ll Take a Look

On infant/toddler t-shirts:

If at first I don't succeed I'll Cry, Cry again

It’s All About the Binky

All Mommy Wanted Was a Back Rub

It’s Not Going to Change Itself

They Shake Me

For wives/mothers:

M.O.M. – Master of Multi-tasking

For husbands/boyfriends:

Ladies – If a man says he will fix it, he will.  There is no need to remind him every 6 months.

For teachers:

I Am Silently Correcting Your Grammar

I CAN EXPLAIN IT TO YOU BUT I CAN’T UNDERSTAND IT FOR YOU

DON’T MAKE ME GET OUT MY RED PEN

For students:

I Am Disappointment in You’re Grammar

For idealists:

I Dream of a Better World Where Chickens Can Cross the Road Without Their Motives Being Questioned.

For NSA employees:

NSA Customer Service Pledge – You Speak, We Listen!

For my friend Steve Duncan, who has donated gallons and gallons of blood:

Aways Give 100% - Unless You Are Donating Blood

And for Baby Boomers everywhere:

iSleepy – There’s a nap for that

All's Well That Ends Well

Silver Dollar City's Outlaw Run Roller Coaster - NOT My Most Exciting Ride of the Day

 

Saturday dawned clear, cool and dry, and that is a rare combination of adjectives for describing July weather in the Show Me State.  On the docket was a family road trip to Branson and Silver Dollar City. 

Our first stop was at Dunn Brothers Coffee for 20 ounces of French-roasted happiness before joining our son’s family for the ride south to Branson.  Actually, Dunn Brothers was our first scheduled stop.  Our first stop came sooner than planned when I backed out of our garage directly into the vehicle of a friend who had spent the night at our house and made the mistake of parking in front of our garage door.  That took a little luster off the morning.

“Oh, well . . .” said my wife, trying to find the silver lining.   “At least no one was injured!” 

Not unless you count my pride.

The day improved after that.  I suppose if you are going to crash your car into something, you might as well do it first thing in the morning and get it out of the way.  The odds are pretty good nothing worse is going to happen to you the rest of the day so you can relax.

On 76 Highway we joined a slow-moving stream of cars for the final 1.1 miles of stop-and-go traffic to Silver Dollar City, with a lot more stop than go.  We were directed on past Silver Dollar City by parking attendants to Lot 5.  Best I can tell the numbers on the parking lots coincide with the number of miles they are from the front gate.   Not that that is a problem.   For my 5-year-old grandson, the tram ride TO the park was just as exciting as the attractions INSIDE the park.

The good news is that the weather was outstanding on Saturday, unlike on Friday when it rained for most of the day.  The bad news is that, unlike on Friday when only 4,000 stalwart souls visited the park, our family was joined by 20,992 other fun-seekers on Saturday.  Per a clerk I talked to, that's about 3000 above average.  

About the low attendance on Friday, the sales clerk said “During my shift  Friday I sold 2 t-shirts, $400 worth of rain gear, and a shot glass.”  I guess that proves there's more than one way to deal with the rain. 

The lines were long for everything on Saturday.  I can only imagine how crowded the park would have been if most people weren’t standing in lines.  The ultimate line came last when my son and I parted company with our less courageous family members to go ride Outlaw Run, Silver Dollar City’s new wooden roller coaster.

After waiting in line for a few minutes we saw a sign up ahead with the approximate wait time.  115 minutes.  At first I thought it was an hour and fifteen minutes.  I was wrong.  The wait was five minutes shy of 2 hours, or about the same amount of time it took us to drive from Jefferson City to Springfield.   I will experience Outlaw Run another day.  I had planned to save the most exciting ride of the day for last.  Instead it happened in my own driveway.

For your entertainment, here is a video taken by a passenger in the front seat of Outlaw Run.  Take a Dramamine and enjoy:

 

Now Departing From . . . ?

Walter Cronkite, along with Seinfeld's Julia Louis-Dreyfus and his spouse Betsy

 

Betsy Maxwell Cronkite, wife of iconic American broadcaster Walter Cronkite, once said “Errol Flynn died on a 70-foot boat with a 17-year-old girl.  Walter has always wanted to go that way, but he’s going to have to settle for a 17-foot boat and a 70-year-old.”  Though Walter was kidding (probably), have you ever considered where you would like to be when you check out? 

Today I rode the Katy Trail.  It was very hot and humid, which I don’t mind.  But, if I should one day overestimate my tolerance for heat and cash in my chips in the middle of the Katy Trail between here and Hartsburg that would be fine with me.  I would only wish for two things:

1.      That no one felt the urge to pass new legislation to stop people from riding the Katy Trail when it’s hot.  ;  and

2.     That someone discovers the late me on or alongside the trail before the turtles do.

The last conscious breath my mom and both of my granddad’s took was safe in their own homes after a spending a great day with their family.  You can’t ask for better than that.  In fact, at age 85, one of my granddads had all his camping & fishing gear laid out in preparation for a 3-day float trip on Arkansas’s Buffalo National River.  Unfortunately, after he laid out his camping gear, he got laid out before he had a chance to use it.

A friend told me his dad died in his workshop, one of his favorite places.  Another died after putting his boat on the trailer after spending the day fishing - hard to beat that.  Especially if someone else had to clean the fish.

When we lived in Springfield, a woman came running into the Sears store at the Battlefield Mall where a friend of mine worked.  “Please help me!” she said to my friend.  “I think my brother is having a heart attack outside in my car!” 

He was.  Luckily, a nurse was one of the people that responded.  As the nurse was administering emergency treatment with no apparent response, the man’s sister said “I can’t believe it.  My brother has been all over the world and he is going to die in the parking lot at Sears!” 

And so he did, probably not his first choice.

Sam Levenson once recommended that if you should die in an elevator to remember to push the up button.  Jarod Kintz suspected that people who die in Detroit and go to hell probably think they are in heaven. 

And now, for the rest of the story on Walter Cronkite.  Oh, wait – that’s the tag line of another famous broadcaster.  Mr. Cronkite died on July 17, 2009 at age 92.  It was not on a boat.  According to his son, Chip, Mr. Cronkite succumbed to “complications of dementia”.  He once said that, after he retired, people would stop him and ask “Didn’t you used to be Walter Cronkite?”    Cruel that dementia could turn a laugh line into reality.  But if the stoical Mr. Cronkite, a man who covered tragedies and triumphs, assassinations and moon landings, had to report on his own death, everyone who ever listened to him knows exactly how he would have summarized his own fate:

“And that’s the way it is . . .”

At least it wasn’t in the parking lot at Sears.

Jump, Jive, Swing, Hop & Eat

A Full House Awaits Showtime at Tonanzio's

The Grand Finale by an Energetic Cast

The population of Guthrie, Mo experienced a marked, albeit brief, increase for three nights last weeks.  Tonanzio's restaurant presented an elaborate dinner show by the name of Jump, Jive, Swing & Hop - An Incredible Musical Journey.  Most of our neighborhood was there Friday night.

Tonanzio's is a large restaurant that is (excuse me, Guthrie residents) located in the middle of nowhere.  When I've mentioned Tonanzio's to friends who have grown up in this area their response has been uniform:  "Wow!  Is that place still open?"   They typically have been there for a wedding reception or similar gathering some time prior to the current millennium.  Run by Tom Dawson, Tonanzio's is now part of the non-profit Sportsman Research & Cultural Arts Foundation, Inc, which also includes Cedar Lake Lodge, Safari Unlimited, Dance Ovations, the Museum Dining Room, Cedar Lake fishing and the Sportsman Chapel.  And yes, it is still open.

Prior to and, at times, during the show, the full house crowd was entertained by the impressive Liberty Jazz Band from Mexico (Mo).  The buffet dinner was good, though my favorite Tonanzio's dish is deep-fried crappie.  I know of no other restaurant that serves crappie and Tonanzio's is excellent.  It is only available in their restaurant,  however, and not their dinner show buffet line.

Attending a Tonanzio's dinner show is like stepping back in time.  Located in the basement, the stucco walls and black and white linoleum floor could pass for my vision of a 1920's speakeasy.  And the 1920's is where the show started.  Dance Ovations and Studio B performed songs and dances from the Charleston to Hip Hop, from Fat's Waller's Ain't Misbehavin' (1929) to Rihanna's We Found Love (2011).

Though the majority of the crowd qualified for the senior discount, the majority of the cast was in high school or college.  It's a good thing - the two hours of non-stop singing and high energy dancing they performed would kill most people over 60.

If you want to try something different & interesting next time you dine out, I'd recommend dinner at Tonanzio's.  One word of caution:  if you don't like stuffed animals, Tonanzio's may not be for you.  The restaurant's Museum Dining Room didn't get that name by accident.  It's like a museum decorated by big game hunters.  Tonanzio's is open limited hours.  You can check to make sure they will be open when you want to visit by calling 573-680-2466.  It is located at 8285 State Road J, Guthrie, Mo. 65063.

And if you are looking for a Jazz/Dixieland band, consider Liberty Jazz Band from Mexico, Mo.  They were very impressive.  You can contact David Reetz at 573-253-5273, or visit their website at:  http://www.libertyjazz.net