LAZY DAYS THIS JULY BRINGS

This picture could well have come from Pacific Beach in San Diego just over one week ago. Hours before the celebration of July 4, because upon close inspection, you can the umbrella firmly planted in the water with no visible people around.

We didn't make it to PB that day, but I don't think they missed us. A newspaper photo showed people stacked on top of each other on the Fourth. I'm afraid there would have been no room for us.

We did venture out to an Aaron Brothers store and the interstates were light with traffic mid-day. No much going on at the old picture framing shop either. But that was ok. Summer is for Lazy Days as sung by at least two Sixties artists, and since today marks mid-July (does that mean tonight is Midsummer night?) then you better get to enjoying.

If you're rushed in hectic life day-to-day living, then I have two suggestions. First, make some homemade ice cream. Oh, man, cranking on the freezer or even plugging it in and making it do the work is rewarding in its aftermath. In other words, the effort is worth it. A friend of ours was 27 years old before he ever saw anyone make homemade ice cream. He thought the ice cream came out of the little drain hole. Unfortunately, that day it could have. We called them homemade shakes. But they were good.

Secondly, shut off the tv and listen to a baseball game on the radio. Preferably near St. Louis where you can enjoy the best ever--Mike Shannon. If not, well, listen to a few innings anyhow. A car radio doesn't count. A back porch is perfect. It will slow down your day and give you a taste of summer. The only thing remotely close is listening to college football on the radio when the game is going on at your school.

Enjoy Summer and don't let it get away from you. The cold will be here soon enough.

FIRST KISS

At least that's part of the title of this print. And last week I read in the Register-News that 1976 Mt. V. T. H. S. grad, Joe Atkinson said one reason that the Friday night reception for their 3oth reunion was held at the old Granada Theatre was that many had confessed their first kiss took place there. I started thinking, "Mine, too." Either there or at the Stadium Theatre down the street. Actually, I think it was the latter. At a Saturday matinee. With fellow fifth grader, Jackie Coleman.

Until Jackie, I didn't have much reason to pay attention to girls. I wasn't like Beaver Cleaver, more like Wally. I had sports, a neighborhood, and tv to occupy my time. I had family and school and Sunday School, man, I just didn't have time for girls.

Somehow Jackie and I found each other at one of the theatres. She went to another grade school and was a cheerleader, so we may have known each other from that. I know Franklin School always killed us in basketball, so I'm sure I didn't impress her athletically. In a game in our sixth grade year, Dickie Young and I each scored 4 points against Franklin. And that was it. For our whole team. Franklin had 25 or so.

But Jackie and I kissed at the show. It was fun. It wasn't quite the setting as in the print, but probably few first kisses are.

I asked my wife when her first kiss was. Kindergarten. And her second kiss was first grade. Wow. I think I went my whole sixth grade year kissless and didn't pick it up again till junior high.

Like Joe, I wonder how many others began kissing at the Granada (or Stadium). And one final rememberance of Jackie--she had a green hula hoop.

WHY DOES THIS GOAT (THERE'S REALLY ONLY ONE) LIKE SPIDEY?

My guess would be that Spiderman likes to climb like goats. This particular one found a green chair at the St. Louis Zoo, the Children's Petting Zoo. He wouldn't stay there long, but for some reason he felt the need.

Our grandkids have loved the zoo and our annual trips there. They must be growing up though because the zoo lost out to Chuck E. Cheese's by a 2-1 vote earlier in the Spring.


From the puffins to the bears, especially active the day we attended, the train, the snakes, the butterfly house, the tiger, the naked ape (absent, along with the other big guys), even the food, any of the shows we happen to catch (which is rare) are all a good time. It really is a great zoo for young and old alike.

But the Children's Zoo is always a highlight. Inside they have a koala bear, timid and mostly hidden, ferret type merkers, frogs, guinea pigs (available for petting), turtles, foxes and a few others inside.

But as Simon and Garfunkel discovered years ago, "it's all happening at the (outside petting) zoo." I mean where else can you brush a goat? Watch a goat fight? Or pick out a favorite and spend some time with him? Or even brush the rear end of a goat while he poops as one of our grandsons did a few years ago. Chickens live there, too, and an occasional sheep is brought in, but normally the goats rule that part of the zoo.

The goat in the picture didn't sport the Spidey cap for long. It was put there by our grandson, Grant, and he needed it back. I wonder if it was the same goat he brushed rearward a few summers ago?

SHRUNKEN HEADS I'VE KNOWN

Actually, I never understood shrunken heads. Who and/or why? Some people used to buy the little fake ones and hang them on their car rearview mirrors. Also, why were there never any white shrunken heads?

I remember reading an article about the size of the head and intelligence. The larger noggins had the larger brains. That makes sense to me to an extent. And two people I know that had very large heads were very smart. So in my limited experience and for the purpose of this blog, I'll accept the theory.

Purpose of this blog? It has a purpose? Well, for today anyhow. There's a lot of crazy stuff going on that makes me want to award a Shrunken Head, you know, like an Oscar or an Emmy to, as they say, various and sundry people.

I'll start with our baseball commissioner, Bud Selig. He's already screwed up the All-Star Game by trying to make it an important contest even going so far as awarding the winner home field advantage in the World Series. Of course, after he declared the 2002 game a tie, I guess he thought (with shrunken head) that he had to do something. Now, he is proposing a penalty of some sort to a team that uses an All-Star selected pitcher on Sunday before the Tuesday game. Unbelievable.

The second Shrunken Head goes to the Senate committee investigating Barry Bonds, Balco, Anderson, ad infinitum. Get over it or Git Her Dun. If you have proof, nail him. If not, let it go. I'm tired of it. He said/he looks/he must have. Ok, then put an end to it.

The third Shrunken Head goes to rappers who wear grillz. What are you thinking putting bling mold on your teeth? Do you really think that looks better than pearly whites? Nelly's white band-aid or bandage was dumb enough (man, am I hip?), but lose the grillz.

And that's all. Yeah, I know. Not the substance of real serious stuff and awards that should go to a number of world events, including a head butt to the gut, but some things are simply beyond Shrunken Heads. Like drivers who never use turn signals. Don't get me started.

"YOU'RE BETTER THAN THAT. BLUE"

has always been my favorite thing to yell at a baseball umpire when he can hear me. It's not mean nor malicious. It simply gets the point across. Or so I think.

ESPN classic had a 30 minute show on the other day entitled something like, Don't Blame Don Denkinger for the Cardinals 1985 World Series Loss. I'm a little shaky on all the details, but I think I have most of them.
It was a very poor show that utilized circular or simply bad logic throughout.

First you must understand that I am one who will go to my grave believing Denkinger cost the Cardinals the world championship. I am also one who would tell others to get over it, but I can't. Finally, from what I understand Denkinger is a great guy and an excellent umpire. He just missed an obvious call at an inopportune time.

On with the show. Their 5th reason why he didn't cost the Cardinals the Series title was that Vince Coleman was run over by a tarp in the freakiest of freak accidents and had to sit out the World Series. Until the 9th inning of Game Six, it didn't matter. The game and Series were all but over.

Their 4th reason was that the Cardinals ahouldn't have been there. Lassorda had told Tom Nedienfuer not to give Jack Clark a fastball to hit in Game 6 of the NLCS.
Nedienfeur didn't listen; Clark hit it out and the Dodgers were toast. Non sequitur. The Cardinals were in the World Series and not the Dodgers, Duh.

Their third reason: the Cardinals only hit.185 in the WS. So, they were still two outs away from the title if Denkinger makes the call.

Their second reason which is by far the best is that after the blown call, they collapsed. Breaks went against them, Darrell Porter was terrible, and they just didn't suck it up. But then they go stupid and say (and interview) Keith Hernandez about the curse of Number 37, his old number. You see the Cardinals gave Hernandez to the Mets after they discovered he was using drugs. He had been an outstanding player (co MVP in 1979), but Whitey wouldn't tolerate him. So because of the Hernandez curse, bad things happened to St. Louis.

The number one reason not to blame Denkinger--they still had Game 7 to play. I vividly remember making the analogy that that would be like asking a woman for sex the day after she had been raped. I also remember telling my son that the series was over after Dane Iorg's hit in the ninth inning of Game 6. No way could the Birds win. Even with John Tudor pitching. By the way the home plate umpire for Game 7 was Don Denkinger.

Bad series, bad call, bad show. Twenty-one years later, I say, "We was robbed!!"

O

OMAR SHARIFF TURNED INTO A DUCK RIGHT BEFORE MY EYES

We've been having some especially beautiful days filled with clouds. I blame my terrible golf round Friday at Tonto Verde partially on the clouds and their beauty; they simply distracted me. But that's easy to do because I'm not too focused.

Don't get me wrong. I normally hate clouds. I have too many memories of gray clouds hanging in a steel gray Midwestern sky that lasted most of a month or two. So I should say I hate those skies, those kinds of clouds. I also like to see storm clouds forming and moving across the skies.

But the best kinds are the ones that you can form pictures of, that take and change shapes kaleidoscopically. I did that as a kid and never outgrew it. And that's how an image of a mustachioed Omar Shariff turned into a baby duck in just a manner of seconds.

You know, I should amend the paragraph that addressed my hatred for clouds. I'd rather not be around that area when the gray days form, and we have some in Arizona, too. But just like some people like cold weather, I'm sure there are those who love gray days, too. They're all part of God's creation, so I won't ever say again that I hate them. I just prefer the white ones in a blue sky.

I just looked to the Scottsdale skies to see what they offered this morning. Ho Hum. Nothing but bright blue today.

I'M OK IN AZ

My wife has been gone for about 15 hours now. She went back to Illinois for a brief time. In fact, I pick her up in 27 hours and 41 minutes. Not that I'm counting. Not that I miss her.

We recently purchased a scanner and I'm not too adept at using it. But I set up a camera, took this picture of me eating lunch today by the pool.
Hey, why shave when she's not around?

Besides being multi-tasked (see blog of 7/8) she also doesn't appreciate my blogs very much. She reads them a week at a time and almost never responds to any of them. She's mean like that. What I put up with!

Anyway(s) I wanted to let her know that despite her meanness, I miss her and I'm ready for her to join me poolside. It's only 104 today.

I may go for a swim. Or I might climb one of our palm trees and look for a coconut.