AT THE CLOTHESLINE

The last time we found any old clothespins for sale, we were in Southern France. Our laundry room is kinda old fashioned with a wallpaper border near the ceiling, an old washboard, an old iron, some old hangers with decoupage pictures on them, an old jar of marbles, an old medicine bottle, and some old liquid filled bottles of soap. We've yet to find an old soap box worth the asking price.

Oh yeah, and some old clothes pins. We don't have as many as pictured, and ours doesn't possess the wire at the separation point, but we're still on the look out for some of those. I like the room. I clean errant golf balls that fly into my yard. The eraser by Mr. Clean, at least he's on the box, is the best thing for taking off smudges, especially asphalt ones ( road oil we called it in Southern Illinois). I've salvaged many balls with the eraser. But I'm not sure Mrs Q. cares for the room much since she's the lead ironer, washer, dryer, and sorter. I'm head carrier. I never use our ironing board. When I iron, I just throw the shirt or pants on a table and start pressing.

But I miss clotheslines. We used to use them as goal posts for field goals when we were younger. We used the poles for chin ups in our neighborhood Olympics. I like seeing clothes hanging out to dry. I don't know why. I do know I love the smell of fresh air dried clothes. Fresh being the operative word.

We had a clothesline pole when we lived in MTV, but we only had one. No need for another. Too many leaf burners in our 'hood. Also too many trees and birds. And now in AZ way too much dust. They wouldn't have to hang long though to be warm and dried.

One thing I nevr did was to fasten a clothespin on my nose. That surprises me, too. Becasue one time I punched in the cigarette lighter and put that on the end of my nose. Try explaining what motivated you to do that. Aw, well, my parents were in the car at the time, and they already knew I was goofy.

HOT AIR AND BLUE SKIES

With a saguaro or two thrown in. But the hot air, if there is any movement of currents, comes much later in the day now. The blue skies habitually hover overhead. The low bank of white clouds is seen sometimes, but mostly blue cloudless skies prevail.

The saguaros have been around a long time and continue to thrive and grow arms and make our part of the world unique. And while some saguaros were harvested for new subdivisions, a practice which thankfully is now forbidden, new owners have replanted them on their properties in many cases.

A rare 30 degree temperature shift from morning low to afternoon high has people dressing in layers. A pleasant reprieve from a too hot Summer of '07. The overseeding is going on right now. If you don't know what that is, I'll try to explain. Most Bermuda grass will die out when frosts come. The result, a brown or yellow lawn, fairway, or rough. To combat that, rye grass is planted to give the green look to a healthy yard and/or golf course. Actually, I think even without the first frost, usually in December, the Bermuda would die because of a drop in temperature.

Chimineas and fire pits in addition to heated pools and spas, make desert nights more enjoyable. At outdoor restaurants and get -togethers, free standing tall heaters provide just enough warmth to enjoy the crisp air and cool evening while still being outside in clear star-filled skies.

If I've made it sound enticing, if I've made you want to come for a Fall visit, or an extended stay, or if I've convinced even one to become a snow bird and move at least part-time to the Phoenix area, then please don't. The traffic here is terrible and getting worse. We don't even want tourist money anymore. So please just read about us, just watch us on tv, but don't come visit anymore. And please, please don't consider a move. Well, unless I know you personally.

IT'S ALMOST HERE

Yup. Get ready. Sharpen those number 2 graphites. Or stop by Staples and get some White Out. It's Letter Writing Week.

When is the last time you received a handwritten letter from someone? Christmas updates don't count, if you even got one that wasn't stenciled. Ok, I was kidding about cutting a stencil. Or using a mimeograph machine, in days of old called a pocketa-pocketa machine, because of the sound.

Letter writing has become just as out of date. Notes don't count, even though they are rare these days, too. No wonder they try to have a special day. If I were still a classroom teacher, I would have my students write a letter to a friend, a relative, a neighbor, just to encourage the act of letter writing. I'd push out of my mind some of the old literary forms of lettres such as Pamela or Shamela that a cat by the name of Manny Schoenhorn made me read as a grad student. Boy, were they bad. I still remember Richardson's book of over 600 pages of one character writing a letter to another character who answered and fired off another letter to another character. One painful weekend for me on a couch.

So I would rescind the assignment. Maybe just writing one letter by hand to someone whom they may love but may not have much to say to would evoke the same kind of displeasure.

Have a good week of October 17 anyway(s).

DBAX BEGIN PLAY FOR NL PENNANT

If the Diamondbacks do nothing else this season, they have been very successful for me. They swept the Chi-town Cubbies in the first round of the playoffs. What a relief!

And what's with the attitude of the Cub fans? If you haven't won a title in now 100 years, how do you have room to talk and gloat and boast about anything? I mean 100 years. You'd think you could win one World Series title just by accident. Bartman and the Billy Goat? How long?

That's just it, too. If they were humble, if they joked about it, then maybe some empathy could float their way. But they want to run down other teams or ignore other teams' great players. Remember Harry Caray's song, "Jody/ Jody Davs/ Best catcher in the land." What land? Certainly not the US, certainly not even in the Central Division of the NL. Probably not in the city of Sha-cog-o. But it's their histrionics, their distortions, their lack of baseball knowledge--throw an opposing team's home run ball back onto the field? Now that's just stupid. And other teams have followed their lead. As Melville once said, "Aw, the humanity."

So thanks so much AZ and San Diego in '84, and any other team that's knocked the hapless ones off the el to success. Good luck, Diamondbacks. Now go out and show them how to win two World Series titles in your 9th year of existence. As for the Cubs and their sorry fans, "wait til next century."

NOT EXACTLY CHIPS

But I had a run in with an officer of the MTV Police force. It went something like this.

Saturday morning found me up early preparing to go with my son to a PK Bible study at his church. I heard knocking on a door down the hall from our hotel room. I'd talked to a football player from Youngstown State the night before. The team was staying there before taking on SIU on Saturday.

My thoughts: it's a football player who got locked out of his room. Or maybe he's just getting in from last night. The knocking continued. I could hear talking. Looking out the hole in the door, I saw a camouflaged officer knocking on my door. I opened it slightly to reveal an officer I knew. "Hey, what're you in town for?"

"Two grandkids' birthdays," I replied, still wondering why he was knocking at my door at 5:30 AM. Did I mention he had an assault rifle drpaed around his neck? Buddy Jim Silvey could have identified it. I simply figured it an AK 47, since that's the only kind I know.

"I bet they're getting pretty big now," the policeman replied.

"Oh yeah, they're great" (not meaning to do a Tony the Tiger imitation, but still wondering why we're talking).

"Two guys robbed Bob Evans and someone thought they ran into the hotel. We're checking out each room to see that they haven't grabbed someone and are hiding in one of the rooms."

I nodded, thinking to myself," Don't say that too loudly; it's not a bad plan."

"Be good/take cares/glad to see yas" were exchanged while I'm wondering what my still-in-bed-wife must be thinking.

After he left she told me she recognized his voice, so no worries. For us anyway(s). I later heard they caught them at some place where they spent $500 on drinks. Robbing must make guys pretty thirsty.

AUH2O

I really like Barry Goldwater. I remember one of my friends from high school and grade school, Stephen Reichert had a huge Barry Goldwater political button on his shirt collar for his sophomore picture for the yearbook. They blotted it out, if I remember correctly. But the individual pictures that you traded with friends displayed it proudly. I wish I still had that picture. Hey, Steve, if you ever read this blog, send me one, por favor.

One thing I liked about Mr. Goldwater was that he said what he believed. He was not PC, which is fine by me. He loved the Southwest and the Native American culture. Ah, there you go--not Indian, but Native American. That's right and I think Barry would have approved, too. Why refer to them as Indians, which was simply a mistake that Chris Columbus made because he didn't know where he had landed? They are not Indians, and if I were an Indian from that country, I'd be a little disappointed, too, by that nomenclature.

A staunch conservative, he demonstrated his principles his entire political life. Which means he said what he meant and meant what he said. Not a waffle in his political house. I've often wondered what our country and the world would look like had he been the President instead of LBJ.

He's revered in AZ. As is anyone connected to that family. I didn't know about his love for photography which was spawned after he received a camera at Christmas from his wife. The Monument Valley picture above is one of his shots.

AUH2O was one to stir things up. He must have been an interviewer's delight.

IT WASN'T PORCELIN, IT WASN'T CANVAS

It was porcelin, and it wasn't canvas. But who makes canvas shoes anymore? It was a man's gym shoe, I'll call it. Maybe an 8 or 8 1/2. It was in my son's yard. He wears about a 12, his oldest son a 1 and 1/2.

So where did it come from? And who?

Oh the possibilites are limitless. I like to think some jogger was just taking a short cut and ran so fast that he ran right out of one of them. The endorphins kicked in and he didn't even know it.

Or he was beamed up right there in my son's front yard. Maybe he was a delivery man and voila like Star Trek, he was outta there. Or maybe laseder up by a UFO. Now I don't much like that scenario with UFO's being that close to my family, but there are accounts from Lebanon, IL. nearby. There was a UFO that chased a former mayor from the drive-in (he wasn't a mayor from the drive-in; it chased him from that location) to Fairfield, IL, back in the 50's. And of course there's the famed Pump House Monster, but you'll have to read local history for any more detail.

His yard is often times filled with deer and foxes, maybe a skunk, so perhaps a critter dragged it into the yard. There has been so little rain lately that flooding's effect are out of the picture. However it got there, there it is. Found by my youngest grandson age 4. It's displayed on a low wall between the front and side door. Available for claiming. Or fantasizing about how it got there.