Gene Kelly

"If Fred Astaire is the Gary Grant of dance, I'm the Marlon Brando."
-Gene Kelly


My wife and I finished watching For Me and My Gal last night. If you haven't heard of the film, it was the first movie for Gene Kelly, done in 1942 when he was 30. For this debut on the silver screen he was by the side of Judy Garland who was all of 20 years old when it was made. I am so grateful for him being pulled off of Broadway productions and being immortalized in the movies.

After we were done watching For Me and My Gal I left the room and came back to find that she had set-up a scene from one of Kelly's later movies from 1980: Xanadu with Olivia Newton John. My wife guessed he must have been about 68 when he did that movie and he was. 68? You could hardly tell it since his exuberance surpassed a passel of pouncing puppies.

I was looking up his filmography on wikipedia.org/. He did Viva Knievel in 1977? Wow! I missed him in that one.

If you haven't seen one of his movies, stop by your local video store and pick one up (except maybe Viva Knievel!). Since I can't say enough about him so I won't even try.

Gene Kelly. Actions do speak louder than words.

Moo

My morning went something like this...

I was awoken by the whiny of our horse. The whiny was unusually loud and distressed. Surprised that my wife was not also woken up, I went out real quick in my robe and slippers to see what the heck was going on.

The horse was staring out past the wash into the desert. Coyotes? Who knows. After a quick survey out towards where the horse was looking I saw nothing moving. I resigned myself to accepting it was "who knows what" and it certainly wasn't going to delay my breakfast any longer. I went back inside to eat.

Solaced by a bowl of cereal in my hands, I went into the living room to open the blinds that face towards the east. One of my favorite things is to watch the sun rise and watch the birds at the feeder and the rabbits and such that come to drink from the large ceramic dish we have water dripping into.

When I raised the blinds, though, there was no gentle dripping. The spigot was on about half blast and water was going everywhere. There was a huge puddle and water was running in a rivulet across the baked ground looking for lower altitudes. We are on a shared well and I feared that we may have been draining the well down to nothing.

Racing out the front door (so much for my bowl of solace getting soggy) I went out and immediately discovered the cause of all this: cows.

There were cow tracks, cow poop, cow damage to a lawn ornament and shrubbery. The tracks were near the bottom step of the front door and also by the back door. Since our land borders open free range land, we are prone to getting visits from the free range cattle. But cows are stupid and rude. There wasn't even the common courtesy of a call before they came over. Maybe they tried to knock but I didn't hear them.

My wife has seen them since then in our yard. They can thank the Lord my wife is a vegetarian without a bow and arrow and a deep freeze.

The Puppy Graduates!

Yes, it was over a half of a year in the making! Yes, it took the persistent encouragement and help of my wife! Yes, it took the attentive love of our 2 year old Australian Shepard. Finally, though, I finally graduated our "puppy" from Basic Obedience Training classes! "Puppy School", as I called it.

The course was 10 weeks long. It started back in January. The goal was to go through the 10 week course, graduate our puppy then go to visit my family in the mid-west the week right after the graduation. Due to a rain storm, classes were delayed by a week and that is where it all fell apart until we picked things up a couple months ago.

Maybe my wife will offer her commentary as a side-line watcher. Basically put, our dog had to go through a basic series of maneuvers (on leash and off) in front of a judge. I was so proud of him. I cannot say than any error he made was his fault. He would look at me throughout the exercises with such a glee in his eyes I would almost bust out laughing. He not only enjoyed himself but he also seemed to want to "win" for me, too. The judge commented that our partnership was "beautiful".

At the end of it all, he took a trophy for 3rd place for the entire class of some 20 participants. My wife was so happy and proud! she noted also that there were so many unusual distractions compared to the other participants: dogs barking loudly and otherwise running amok. We stayed focused and if not focused, oblivious. All there was in the ring was he and I.

Gushing? Yes. Proud of him. Yes. Grateful for my wife's encouragement and our puppy. Both of them tested and tried my male ego and made me a better person because of it. Truly, we all became closer.

Further Evidence of Devolution (as if you weren't convinced already!)

Because it's better to at laugh at something than to scream...



Many news web-sites are reporting that rapper Sean John Combs (aka P. Diddy, Puff Daddy, Sean "Puffy" Combs - no relation to Puff the Magic Dragon or CoCo Puffs Cereal) has been solicited to redesign the uniforms for McDonalds workers.

Seems fitting, doesn't it? "His own music career, and to a lesser extent, his production, has been criticized as watered-down and overly commercialized for a mainstream market,..."*

Great! Ghetto styled clothes for serving "ghetto" food.

I only have one word to describe it: Mcrapper

(quote/link and photo used with permission)
*(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/P._Diddy)
Photo by Michael Pilmer

Thank You Note

Just a little update: My wife placed the dead rat we recently trapped in the wash by our house. When we woke up the next morning we found this note by our front door. Being such a thoughtful thing I thought I should share it with you.


As God as my witness, I didn't even know they could write.

Black Tailed Jack Rabbit

Here is a picture of our local friend, the Black Tailed Jackrabbit.
A mother, nonetheless. Lately we have had up to three of them at a time at a shallow dish under our water drip. My wife has been around horses most all her life and is amazed at how much they behave like horses. The more I watch them move, the more I am convinced (in a very non-scientific way) that she may be right.

Either way, it is a gift to have them around.

Candy, Rats and Lizards

To cut down on my junk food, my wife started putting mini candy bars ( e.g.Hershey's Dark Chocolate and Almond Joy) in a bowl in the refrigerator for me. So instead of me buying full sized bars from the machines at work I just take a couple bite sized ones. It really does the trick for my sweet fixes. If you're looking to save some calories from hitting your waist but still like a snack fix...it's a thought.

Good news! The trap got a rat! We found it this morning. Nothing seemed to work and we had wondered if through the process of natural selection an uber rat capable of disarming traps had emerged front the gene pool. After baiting the traps with cheese, peanut butter and honey she finally got one using an Almond Joy.

Hey! Wait a second....

Reminds me of that song by the group Smashing Pumpkins: "Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in the cage." Not that I feel like that, it just reminded me of the lyric line. There really are so few rock songs that refer to rats. I do find it ironic the rat and I share a similar taste, though.

Hmmmm.......

Another really weird thing happened. I worked yesterday and I often practice guitar during my lunch. I sit on a big flat rock under a mesquite tree. There are usually birds that come by to listen and always a lizard or two or three...small ones. Personally, I think they are cute. Of all of God's creatures the lizards are my most rapt listeners. They actually scuttle down the tree when I start to play, believe it or not. But yesterday, I had NO visitors! I'll check with their union hall just to make sure nothing is wrong.

Owls

There are many Native Americans that regard the owl as a messenger. Not a messenger in the sense that FedEx is, but more like an angel. The "downside" of this type of messenger (to some) is that an owl's messages tend to convey a portent of death or some other severe transformational event. To give you an idea of how serious a visit from a owl can be to some Native Americans, some won't even have pictures of owls in their homes or even be in the same room with owl feathers and such things.

As with most indigenous wisdom, there is usually something to it. But the mysterious often walks hand in hand with the mundane. Owls get thirsty and last night as the last rays of light were fading, a Great Horned owl came down to drink from a dish in our front yard that holds one of the few sources of water in the neighborhood. He cautiously dipped his body down to drink while keeping a watchful eye. My wife and I were riveted. He was completely fascinating.

Seeing the owl made me think back a bit. A couple summers ago we lived in a place outside of Tucson that was affected by flooding. Shortly before that flood, though, we had one, two and sometimes three owls hooting on or around our property. Coincidence or not (if you believe in that kind of thing), the owl's visit last night had me reflecting on these ancient beliefs and the flood that forced us into moving a couple years ago.

Edgar Allen Poe's poem The Raven conveys the same sense of mystery I was feeling last night. So, although I don't expect to be profound, I borrowed his poem and wrote the following "with a wink":

Once upon a summer evening, as I sat there towards my bedtime leaning
I spotted in the daylight fading landing soft outside my door
While we watched an owl come drinking, looking then as if blinking
I said to my wife sitting on the floor
"Tis some visitor", I muttered, "on our desert floor.
Only this and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was a year ago last December,
After months we spent so tender after a flood on our desert floor
Eagerly we wished the morrow, - mainly for our own home door.
To set our books and end the travel- travel made us both heart sore
To test the words and wedding vows that we both fore-swore
Homeless and left to explore

The owl before warned of our parting, though our home just starting-
A portent of the storm to come and of fire's rage to our back door
Washed close by as if a token telling of the warning spoken
Leave us and leave our home unbroken! - silent rather than implore!
Fly away from us you messenger of ancient lore
Far from us on the desert floor.

Genus Neotoma

Call them Neotoma lepida, Neotoma albigula, Neotoma cinera or Neotoma devia if you like. In Arizona we call those fuzzy little bastards pack-rats. While I do have a leaning towards a Buddhist philosophy, I do understand that for some people pack-rats can evoke a desire for flame throwers and wood-chippers.

They are a problem that stretches across all social and financial demographics. Say, for example, if you just bought a new Hummer and one morning you wake up to find your electrical system has been chewed up...you can thank the pack-rat. If that weren't bad enough, I doubt your insurance would cover random acts of rodents.

We have two large wooden traps set out for them that have been unsuccessful so far. If the Wooden Welcome Mats don't work, the next step is a live trap and then drown them for a hearty breakfast of Coyote Crunch served up Sonoran style in the wash nearby our home. Poisoning them would not be responsible since they either die and rot in the insulation or worse yet, die where they can be consumed by and poison other wildlife.

Every year they come and go...doing their damage in varying amounts. The good news is that they usually leave just before the poisonous toads.

If we score a kill or not...I'll let you know.

My Wife Threw a Birthday Party!!

Despite my previous two glaring stories I do want to let you know that I do love America. What it was, is and can be: the reality and the dream all rolled into one place where we all have, at the very least, a chance to make it happen. I can get very fervent and mushy about my status as a United States citizen.

My wife knows this about me. So, last night despite the fact that I had gotten up before dawn and was laying in bed drowsing off by 8:30, she woke me as asked me to go outside with her to watch fireworks. Outside the front door she had our Ford F150 parked under the stars. She's wonderful like that. So up into the bed of the truck I climbed and sat down...still waking up.

Our place is mostly bordered with desert. We live on the rim of our community so it is pretty dark. There were already fireworks emblazoned in the north western sky. As I was looking around my wife turned on the truck radio to a local radio station. The radio pealed into the night air with, "Anchors Away!" and "Stars and Stripes Forever!" and other such patriotic melodies. Unlike my wife, I still can't sing the Start Spangled Banner worth a darn I found out...again.

We ended up sitting on the roof of the truck parked pretty close to the horse corral singing and humming to the songs of America. It was the first time I had watched fireworks with a horse and he was as fascinated by the fireworks as we were. From far off the explosion's flashes reflected off us, the truck and the desert.

There were some new fireworks that I had never seen before. Seeing something new like that always brings my sense of wonder to new heights. It must have done so for our horse, too! Right after the finale' the horse breathed a deep sigh with a hint of a nicker.

There is this feeling of almost instant nostalgia I sometimes get when I wake up to a house the night after a party is over and not everything is cleaned up. I remember the night before: the music, the smiles, the lights, the scents and the celebration. This July 4th was more special than any other I can remember thanks to my wife!

America...another year closer to a future that continuously redefines itself under the this flag of freedom waved proud and high for all the world to see. Corny...but true!

America: The Good, the Bad and the Ugly Part II

Please see the previous entry first...


While I lived in Raleigh, North Carolina back in 88-89, and I worked with a fellow who was part of the Republican delegation that went to the Bush/Quayle inauguration in 1989. He partnered up with a friend of his and they decided the would defray traveling expenses by making hundreds of buttons of the new president & vice president and selling them during events.

The buttons were sold for $5.00 a piece or 5 for $20.00. Most people found it easier to spend $20.00 at a time (the story goes). They dodged the D.C. police and the Secret Service all day. By the end of it all, he said that their pockets were so full of cash (mostly $20's mind you) that they simply couldn't stuff anymore money into their pockets.

Back at their room that was $300 a night, they got ready for one of the Presidential inaugural balls. Tuxes on and downstairs in front of the hotel waiting for a cab, a Senator in a limo asked them if they'd like a lift. They took the ride (saving the cab fare) and arrived at the gala event.

The alcohol flowed under crystal chandeliers and above marble floors. Drunk wives of congressmen danced and flirted without shame. As the band played on, my co-worker saw a pretty female at the bar-all alone.

He was not an attractive man by any means. But he knew his looks would not be an issue with this one. He asked her, "Can I buy you a beer?" She accepted. He asked, "What else can I buy?"

Evidently she was working her way through college. Sad.

So, this fellow and his commercial company went with his buddy and his "date" back to the hotel. The attention that the men were lavished with that night cost them $300 per woman. His face was still flushed with shock as he described to me how beautiful she was.

I asked him, "So, what you're telling me is this: you used money from selling pictures of our new president and vice president to buy liquor and prostitutes at an Inaugural Ball ? Now that's America!"

America: The Good, the Bad & the Ugly

"Why is it that we want our idols to die on a cross of their own making, and if they don't, we want our money back? But you know, Elvis ate America before America ate him." -Bono

Bono (the lead man of the rock group U2) once said something to the effect that Elvis Presley was a symbol of America because he was an reflection of everything that was good and bad about it. True...Elvis represented to many liberation, boldness and freedom and yet the decadence that undermines and destroys it.

How true.

With that in mind on this Independence Day 2005, there are a couple stories from my past that seem to encapsulate this concept:

Back in the late 80's I was planning on moving from Wisconsin out to Spokane, WA. Or so I thought. After a couple weeks I left and decided to hitch-hike to a friend's house in Portland and then make my way back to the mid-west.

Half way to Portland I met up with a man in an old beat-up car that decided to take me with him back through the mid-west and drop me off. As grace would have it, he was on his way back to Chicago and taking the same highway passed right along the path I needed to go.

As we made out way through South Dakota, we decided to make a side trip to see Mount Rushmore. Neither of us had ever seen it before and with it so close it was too much of a lifetime memory to pass up.

It was an early Sunday morning and no one else was there. It was stunning to see and almost unreal. All my life I had seen it in books and on t.v. and now here this icon of America was before me. My perception and my memories and my experience now shattered by it's reality. It really didn't seem real as if I was looking into a reflection of an image in a still, clear lake. Having to share this moment with someone I called a friend from a payphone...collect. I woke her up and she took the call. She was half asleep through the whole thing and the call was ended quickly by her drowsy bewilderment.

We didn't stay long. As anyone might tell you that has been to Mount Rushmore, it is not "right off the highway". You really have to want to go there. As we drove away down the 2 lane back roads to get back to the Interstate highway the day was still getting into full swing. It was very pretty driving through the hills down the while wending our way back to the highway.

He only had a a.m. radio in his old car. There was not much to listen to besides static but we did find a some gospel music this Sunday morning. As the hymns and praise crackled through the one small speaker my traveling companion took a pop can and flattened one side a bit and poked some small holes in it with a pocket knife...while driving. He took out a small plastic baggie with pot in it and proceeded to cook off a bud. He offered but I refused. He didn't seem to mind enjoying his stash all by himself.

It occurred to me how ironic the situation was and I spoke up: "Here we are, driving back through the countryside fresh from just seeing Mount Rushmore, listening to gospel music while you're smoking pot. Now that's America!"

The other story is later...

When the Law Fails

A ruling was recently handed down on June 28, 2005 by the Appellate Court of Illinois convicting a man of being a sex offender. What did he do? He grabbed a 14 year old girl's arm while lecturing her about walking out in front of his moving car. The report goes that he swerved to not hit her, called her over to lecture her and, while doing so, grabbed her arm. She broke free and reported him and he was charged with unlawful restraint of a minor- a sexual offense. Now he must register as a sex offender.

The Cook County state's attorney spokesman said the offender should have to register "because of the proclivity of offenders who restrain children to also commit sex acts or other crimes against them." So, really, if two kids get into a fight (in Illinois) one had better be careful about breaking it up.

Sure, making forceful contact with anyone should be carefully measured. Even more so with children. Was the man wrong for applying unwarranted restraint? Yes. But he was acquitted of kidnapping and child abduction yet still convicted as a pervert.

It strikes me as not only a failure of the state's law and but also the court's complete failure to apply common sense. Most likely they weren't able to get a conviction on the other more appropriate charges.

I'd bet the girl will look both ways before she crosses the street for the rest of her life.