PaulsModestMusings

12:44:04 PM EDT
Hearing "Teach Your Children Well"

"She walks in beauty, like the night!"

Lord Byron

It is still the toughest profession on earth, motherhood. It is clearly the longest career path. It starts with "mu,mu," progresses to "mama," to "mother," to "mom," to "grandmother," to "grandma," (pronounced GRAH mah) to "nana," with a whole bunch of pet names along the way.

The Mother I'm closest to is my wife.

 

And yeah, I call her Peggy, but I'll admit it today. I need a little "mothering" once in a while, and even though sometimes I think she resorts to some pretty "tough love," it is all for my "OWN GOOD!"

This is an exciting time for Peggy. The is the first time she spends Mother's Day as a GRANDMOTHER. She is out in Calfornia babysitting little Maren Noel.

But it is just like her. In the midst of feeding the baby, then singing her to sleep, and yelling at the dogs, she is worrried about her daughter Rhonda having to be away from her child on her first Mother's Day.

 

And, hey, I think she is worried about me and what I'm doing. Now that may be "did he remember to take out the trash,"  "did he straighten his collar," " did he wipe the toothpaste off his lips," "did he shut off even ONE LIGHT in the house," did he wash any clothes?" Well you get the gist of the moment.

I can be an independent cranky old guy. I can work up a very crusty attitude. I curse at stupid drivers, I make caustic remarks in the grocery store. I get dirty and don't clean up for days. Every once in a while I spit.  And I love this new study that says you'll live longer if you regularly expel gas. But do you know what?

When she is not here?

 

I MISS MY MOMMY!

Written by prhinos Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 0 comments: Add your own

5:22:39 PM EDT
Feeling Ecstatic

I tell my broadcast journalism and announcing students that it is not true you must be a type "A" personality to have a radio and or TV career. You need not bounce off the wall 24 hours a day. And that is true, too, of all types of performing.  It is just that when the Curtain goes up? When the Camera Light comes on? When the Microphone Switch is thrown.  THEN YOU COME ALIVE!

I think most people can intellectualize the concept.  And I think most of us have heard how that BIG star "SO AND SO" is really nice and shy in person.  But sometimes you need something or someone special to illustrate it.  Man did I get it in my email today.

That is Stephenie Davis up there. I used to call her student.  Now I call her friend. She was a division 2 all conference basketball star.  She was an all around track athlete and  javelin champion in high school. She graduated with honors. But believe me it never shows in person. She is so calm, so warm, so polite, so unassuming.

Peggy and I used to love to go to the restaurant where Stephenie served breakfast.  She would walk up to us, form this huge ear to ear grin, and say, "THE USUAL? " Who does that anymore?

But there is a larger story to this posting. I get lost in time frames these days.  But I think it was about two years ago that a coaching job didn't really work out for Stephenie. And she was back waiting tables. She was getting tired and feeling sick to her stomach. She was losing a lot of weight. She thought it was the long hours and hard work.

It turns out she became critically ill with what turned out to be Chrons disease. Surgery followed. They took away most of her stomach. There would be a long rehabilitation period.

Well SHE IS  BACK...and when the CAMERA SHUTTER SNAPS? Stephenie Davis COMES ALIVE!  Moved by some of the people who kept her alive, Stephenie is heading to nursing school in Portland next semester.  And it looks to me like, and hey I'm way predjudiced on this one, she is going to have plenty of cab fare money from MODELING on the side.

She is one of those athletes you CAN dress up.  Hey Steph, does that nursing school have a basketball team? Just wondering.

 

Written by prhinos Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 1 comments: Show Recent | Add your own

7:56:10 PM EDT
Hearing "Winter WONDER Land"

I think I already used SNOW JOB as a previous slug...so I'm making this SNOW JOB 2. 

 

In case the phrase "snow job" is so passe to be useless in current inter-generational conversation?  It means trying to "pull the wool over someone's eyes."  Whoops there's another one (cliche). So let's see? A "con job" maybe? A scam? Well I guess I'm just going to have to "spell it out" for you.

It snowed today.  Not much.  Certainly not as much as the picture up there I pulled out of my archives. At least, if you've gotten this far, you know I'm "fessin' up."  So, hopefully the dramatic photo "got your attention," and now I can get on with "the straight poop."

You see it was 75 degrees out yesterday.  I took my Broadcast Journalism , Television class out for walk just to "see what we could see." 

Quite often, I tell them, "if you keep your 'eyes peeled,' and 'all the wax out of your ears?' You will see and hear things that will allow you to tell stories without ever having to stroke the truth. (very much)  

So here are a few observations we now collective harbor.  On our walk, just as we are leaving campus, I think, to the person, we all become aware of a particular circumstance.  

First we hear the backfiring crackle of exhaust not allowed to be produced by automobiles.  For some reason? Motorcycles seem to get over looked in noise ordinance enforcement.  That is the case here for sure. (There were some deaf cops sitting right across the street.)   But that really isn't the story.  It just gets our attention.

I don't know how many CC's this guy is sittin' on.  But this is no MOTOR SCOOTER.  There is no doubt in any of our minds that this guy will be keepin' up with traffic on the highway. And there is no doubt in any of our minds that he is going to get some attention, and not for the decibels involved in his piston pushing.

HERE is what WE ALL notice. And MAN to have a microphone and a camera. Broadcast journalists, always be ready. This one got away.

I'm sure most of you live in states where there have been LOUD debates over helmet laws.  I bring this up because regardless of your posture on the issue, YOU WANT THIS VIDEO TO MAKE YOUR CASE NO MATTER WHERE YOU STAND.

This guy is CLEARLY wearing a helmet. This HELMET must have been designed by NASA, or at least to make NASA jealous. It is three times bigger than his head, looking like it has satellite communication installed behind this massive heat shield. And I'm sure he is being led into road ecstasy by some Billy Joel album he is receiving via double-Dolby.  It, the helmet, has to have at least cost more than his bike, maybe his house.  I think you've got the picture.  AH, BUT NOT THE WHOLE PICTURE.

Below the helmet? Nice Studded Black Leather Jacket, you're thinkin'?  Nope.  This guy is wearing a TANK TOP. Scan south in the fashion of the day we find our man of the day sitting inside ragged cutoffs. (Can I say cutoffs? You know old comfortable levis you've cut the legs off of,  and then hidden from your wife, mother, sister, daughter because you know one of them wants to throw them out?) But you are still not getting the whole picture. We complete his ensemble by noting that his feet are fully protected from the heat of the engine,  and the hardness of the asphalt, by his FLIP FLOPS.

( I am handily advised by a budding journalist not to call them "THONGS."  I guess "THONGS" refer to something else now.)

Anyway, so we are now fully into talking about issues of transportation, and I ask, " are any of you making any personal travel choices now because of the price of a gallon of gas?"

I'm expecting to hear the standard responses like, "oh, yes I'm combining many of my trips to the store, and the pharmacist and the bar."  Or, " well I've taken to riding my bike more, and using light rail."  But as we've already observed this is not a normal day.

(I have to carefully present this response.  I was given permission to share it with the class, and I'm assuming this person would be willing to let me share with the broader audience.  But I'm a "GOOD GUY!"  So I am going to change the name of the responder and the destination to which she refers.  I hope that covers me.)

So Lucy Lovesick responds,

"Oh, yeah. I used to drive out to Limon every weekend.  I'm not doing that any more. (That is about 80 miles east of Denver.)"

So...smart ___ that I can be,  I respond, "I guess that means HE's going to have to drive into Denver?"

Sometimes you just get lucky. Lucy says, "Nope, we're just going to break up."

"I'm sorry," I say.  "Don't you like this guy?"

"Oh, yeah, I like him a lot!"

"Well then his commitment must be weak?"

"No, he likes me a lot, too!"

"So this is all about the price of a gallon of gas?"

"Yep!"

So there it is folks, a story right in front of us.  Gas prices are breaking up CLOSE PERSONAL HUMAN relationships. Will we be able to keep our families together?  I HOPE YOU'RE SATISFIED OPEC!

Well it is supposed to be back up into the 60's tomorrow. SO....? Well you'll be glad to know, NO MORE SNOW! 

If you let it, TRUTH trumps FICTION every single time!

Written by prhinos Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 1 comments: Show Recent | Add your own

9:40:58 PM EDT
Hearing "cuz baby look at you now!"

Meet my step granddaughter Maren Noel. It is my first HUMAN BABY watercolor portrait.  I doubt I captured every nuance.  But I do feel like I snagged a piece of her happy soul. This little girl is going to keep everybody in stitches.

But on that happy note?  Let me ask a few questions. If this comes off as some journalistic jingo arrogance, so be it. SOMETIMES a BLOG has to let you expel your demons.

In every Presidential political race year my brain  gets bombarded with a host of 'WHYs?'

Why is everybody so ANGRY?

Why do we need superlatives to make our choices?

Why do we circle the wagons every four years?

Why do candidates hide behind the pretense of intellectual sincerity,  when WE all know a whole bunch of other people are telling them how to behave and what to say.

Why do these candidates make promises that both THEY and WE know they can't and won't keep.

I hope you'll not challenge my patriotism with this last WHY, but I can take it if you do.

Why do we believe that for sure this is the most judicious and efficient form of government on the planet...WAIT....WAIT a MINUTE...that wasn't SUPERLATIVE enough....Not ON THE PLANET...but IN THE  WHOLE UNIVERSE?

I don't expect any answers to some WHY'S I've been asking all my adult life. 

I'm just going spend the rest of my night HOPING little Maren Noel won't have to mess with them when she's my age. Of course she'll be wanting to know WHY I didn't get her nose just right.    

Written by prhinos Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 0 comments: Add your own

7:13:16 PM EDT
Hearing Bird Dog

"Johnny is a JOkEr"

In my day rock lyrics really meant something.  Take the Everly Brothers for instance. Ponder the depth of meaning when they belt out the words...

"Johnny is a JOKER,

 

He's a BIRD

 

A very funny joker, HE'S A BIRD.

 

 

 

But when he jokes my honey?

 

 

 

 

He's a DOG

 

 

His jokin' ain't so funny,

 

What a dog

 

 

Johnny is a joker

 

 

That's tryin' to steal my honey,

 

 

 

He's a BIRD

 

Dog....."

 

I kind of enjoy these days when my friend Bugs

 

 gets to say..."That's all folks!"

 

 

I believe we've GROUND TO A HALT!

Written by prhinos Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 0 comments: Add your own

1:31:19 PM EDT

Laugh for us one last time! 

My aunt Lola died this week, peacefully in her sleep. She was on my mother's side, a Thompson. Big deal?  Well first of all Aunt Lola was in her mid 90's.  I think that is still kind of a big deal.  And another big deal?

 

She was the last survivor of this family of nine  kids raised during the great depression in dust bowl Kansas.  Just off the top you'd know that had to give you a lot of character. But it also made it possible for all the Thompson kids to BECOME characters. Lola may have led the pack. Somehow Elmer and Murrell Thompson found a way during the turmoil of the times to let the Thompson kids be themselves, think outside the box (Elmer was a one room school house teacher), find their own paths in life.

And, oh my, what wonderful story tellers they all were. When all nine of them were together there was no sense in trying to get in the middle of the conversation. They all knew the road map, but it would have been dangerous for anyone else to do anything but sit on the curb, and listen and laugh.  And I don't think there can ever be a dispute about this.  Aunt Lola was the LAUGH LEADER.

She was the shortest of the nine, but not the least heard.  When she let go with her gleeful explosions I don't think it would be much of an exaggeration to say you could hear her a block away.  Now don't let me give you the impression that that is all she did.  When I was around, and admittedly that wasn't much, she would always have some sharp words for sons Bill and Errol. They didn't exactly grow up in choir robes.

But I have to tell you less than a minute into a tirade she would catch herself and turn it into a cacophony of guffaws. Her laughter was always joyous, never mean.  If you'd ask her secret to long life I'm not sure what she'd say.  But those who've known her would have to say it had to have been that unflappable positive outlook and that wonderful laugh.  (I hope someone has recorded it.)

Well anyway, I and a couple million (exaggeration) first cousins, are orphans. For me and my sisters that is now on both sides of the family. 

There is an infamous media story here in town of a reporter interviewing a mother in grief over her kidnapped and missing daughter? That reporter in the excitement of the news gathering moment reportedly said, "I know just how you feel. I lost a cat once." I suppose it is tough to forgive the apparent arrogance of that remark. But as I'm sitting here I'm starting to understand. It really depends on how attached she was to that cat, doesn't it?

It's clearly justified that I lost ten pounds of tears when my own parents died.

 

Mom

But in my case? Let's see, aunt Marge, uncle Gabe, and uncle Rudy, all on my father's side, gone over the past three years. Uncle Art died a long time ago. Then, on my Mom's side there was uncle Virgil, a long, long time ago, aunt Gladys and uncle Forest quite a while ago, uncles Dicky and Danny over the past decade, followed by aunts Velma, Theda and Lola in the past five years. 

I can't match the grief of the Lola Woolen family right now. But I think I can tell you I'm missing a lot of cats.

Let me tell you if they put all those Thompson kids in the same room up there, they better pad the walls with acoustical clouds.  If they don't nobody in heaven is going to get any sleep.  Come on Lola lets hear it just ONE MORE TIME!

Written by prhinos Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 0 comments: Add your own

11:24:40 PM EDT

how to do this. In preaching that the REAL NEWS is always a block away, I ALWAYS find it is best to use an example. So here goes!

 

 

Sure we took a nice trip on Spring Break. We saw some wonderful sights, ate some wonderful food, walked in some wonderful tide pools, kicked up some wonderful sand.  But you know what?  If I hadn't been paying attention I'd have missed the REAL NEWS!

In case you've never been there, Oregon is a GREEN state, both real and figurative. At the Eugene, Oregon airport, I assume to be envrionmentally pure, all the lights are OUT in the restrooms.  They (the lights ) pop on automatically as you enter. It is as  if you are making a stage appearance at the beginning of ACT 1. 

They also automatically dispense soap to make sure you don't get more than your fair share.  I'm pretty sure they still use two ply toilet paper.

Now as interesting as this trip to the john  may be,  it is still not THE REAL STORY. This description merely sets the mood.  We LISTEN to, and WATCH and sometimes READ the news. We know the price of a gallon of gas is approaching four bucks. So being both frugal, and GOOD CITIZENS we tell Hertz we want a COMPACT.  I think the brochure says we'll get a Ford Focus.  But reality hands us this mode of transportation, a CHEVY COBALT.

 

 

Surprisingly it has more leg room than the plane we flew in on. The acceleration isn't bad. I certainly wouldn't want to play bumper cars with a lumber truck in it.  But I digress.  We are getting closer to the REAL STORY.

 

Follow this routine with me.  You grab your keys with the remote automatic door lock. You push the open button and get that funny little noise that tells you, "YOU ARE NOW FREE TO ENTER THE VEHICLE!"

You slide in behind the adjustable steering wheel, and put your keys in the ignition.  Meantime your mate hears that familiar "the door is unlocked 'ding ding'."  She/he slides into the shotgun seat, shuts the door. You crank the engine once, hit the accelerator until you get up to a comfortable speed, and then set the cruise control.

With this particular COBALT? Uh, uh. Nothing is automatic. It is like revisiting the '50's. I mean get this.  I have to actually put the key into the hole in the side of the door and turn it.

 

 

 

Once inside?  If I want Peggy to join me?  I can't slide my hand down to push the universal electronic door lock. NO! I have to do a lateral reach across the seat further and more strenuous than you'd have to do in an extreme yoga class.  Why? To push the automatic passenger side door lock control?  NO SUCH THING.  I have to reach to the furthest horizontal distance I can manage. Then using my thumb and index finger I must find the strength to vertically lift this stick like device upward while Peggy waits, not so patiently, outside in the rain.

 

 

So HERE IS THE REAL NEWS, at least the first part of it. We are evolving.  And like the tailbone, the tonsil, the appendix and the baby toe, we are slowly giving up the functionality of our upper limbs.  Let me ask you this.  What exercise, what machine, what physical fitness routine trains us to perform this manual unlocking of the door business?  None that I know of.  But that is not the most dramatic twist of THIS REAL NEWS STORY, that is a block away.

Once inside and settled down, I am looking for a little fresh air?  So I reach for the lever that makes the windows go down?  Look at this thing. 

 

 

 

I reach down with my left hand, grab this little device that looks like an ancient butter churn handle, and begin the process of manually lowering the glass. When I've completed the task  my elbow hurts, my wrist hurts, my thumb and forefinger are cramped.  And then I get to thinking.  What do I do in a day that involves this particular distorted rotary motion? Nothing! What do I do in a month that would call up on me to move my arm like the cam that moves the wheels on an old steam engine.  Nothing!  I'm going to lose that function. So are you.  I don't even know of a dance that calls for such a gyration.  SO THAT'S THE REAL NEWS.

 

But not all of it.  Remember MEN when we had to open the door on the passenger side for our dates and mates?  Well with the COBALT, ITSSSS BAAACK. Peggy, holding two cups of coffee in the rain, is in no mood to have me practice my door lock stretch move,  followed by the butter churn crank maneuver.  "OPEN THIS @#%%#^& DOOR NOW!" might be pretty close to a verbatim quote.

 

 

So, like it or not, we are evolving both physically and cuturally.  And, outside of Oregon and a Chevy Cobalt, I don't really care if I can ever manually unlock a door, roll down a window or romantically open the door for Peggy.  I don't know how she feels about it. AND THAT MAY BE THE REAL NEWS! 

Written by prhinos Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 0 comments: Add your own

11:45:36 PM EDT
Hearing Wendy (Windy)

My friend Larry Ramos, with the musical group The Association, tells me Wendy is not the most played of all The Association singles.  Rather it is "Never My Love."  And when he shares that with me, he adds "Never My Love" is the most played on the air (radio) single in history. But you know what?  If everybody had been on Spring break with me and Peggy?  "Wendy" (WINDY) would have knocked "Never My Love" right out of the running.

 

A few years ago we discovered this modest resort on the Oregon coast named "The Inn at Otter Crest."  Sounds kind of gentle and romantic, eh? 

Let me fill you in on some things before you give it a thought for your second honeymoon. One of the discount packages for the Spring?  That package includes two rain ponchos in every room.  You get from check-in to the front door of your room in a plastic covered golf cart. Oh, there is a giant thermometer on each of the balconies? On this occasion the mercury never got above 40 over a four day period. 

They had a wonderful, friendly greeting for us at the front desk.

"Hey, at least we have a GREAT STORM for you this year."

 

 

 

This Great Storm lasted our entire stay and included rain, snow, sleet, and rain, and wind, and sleet and wind.

I know what your thinking. 

"Quit your whining Paul!"

Don't bother getting out the crying towel.  We LOVED IT! The storm produced the most dramatic surf I've ever seen.  When the sun did peek through it generated  this amazing blend of gray, blue, green, black, browns and tans.  It made the ferns and moss on the evergreens really stand out.  It turned lighthouses into incredible works of art.

 

 

 

 

The huge cross current waves broke through holes in rocks creating instant geysers. Gulls, Bald Eagles and crows danced all over the sky.

 

 

Seals are huddled together on offshore rocks (probably not for warmth). 

 

 

 

The only whining I'm going to do must come in the singular. Despite the "foul" weather Peggy got to see about 8 grey whales spit in the air about ten feet.  (I was otherly occupied at the time.) And she says one of them surfaced.  She didn't get a full breach. This is normally a great time of year for whale watching.  But you need a little break in the weather to get a good view.

So anyway, that's how we spent our Spring Break.  And we left feeling tough and seasoned.  And there may be some historical precedent for feeling that way?  This area is best known for being discovered by Captain James Cook in the mid 1700's? Well he, his boat and crew stayed long enough to name a few rocks, and then got the "heck" out of there.  On his way out he could  be heard shouting, "I dub thee CAPE FOUL WEATHER."  He must have been there during Spring Break.

 

 

The name sticks and so do the images.  And the chowder ain't bad either. 

Written by prhinos Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 0 comments: Add your own

6:10:51 PM EDT

All Covered in Snow......"

I'm pretty sure I was a Freshman in college when I first ascended Mount Baldy, just outside Los Angeles. It might seem a mean feat for those who climb all the 14 thousand foot peaks (The Fourteeners) here in Colorado.

But when you consider you are coming up from Sea Level to 10 thousand feet Mount Baldy gets a little more respect.

Anyway I was a little short of oxygen and pretty high on nitrogen when I got there.  And they had this little guest book? You are asked for your impressions?  So here is my direct quote which is surely sitting in some archive with the Sierra Club.

"It makes one wonder about the existence of God."

Go ahead and write something like that if it is what you are feeling. But here is some advice. Do not include your home address, your phone number or email address. That is unless you are a big fan of crank calls, spam and/or junk mail.  You cannot believe how many people have climbed MT. Baldy who are deeply concerned about YOUR eternal soul.

If I were to do it again? I'd write something like, "hey dude! I made it!"

This is as close as you'll ever find me discussing "religion."  I pretty much respect and suspect them all.  They all (established religions) inspire great food, music and holidays. I've sampled them all.  And didn't they all invent (fasting) dieting? Don't they all practice meditation?

Ah, I'm getting off track.

There are places all over the world that inspire me to tremble at the feet of what must be a greater power.  That is one of them up there. 

While I'm sure it doesn't match up with anyone's dogma, I typically and selfishly try to keep a few of these places JUST for myself.

 

 

This one is not a big secret.  It's shared by family and friends and quite a few other people.  But it is not a huge tourist spot. That means if you do come upon it? There is a decent chance you can have some time alone with a consistent force of nature.

I just thought in honor of Easter I would share this much with you, and maybe even give you some hints on its whereabouts.

 

[REAL PICTURE]

 

 

I can tell you it is along the Central California coast.  I can tell you the surf breaks like that a good portion of the year. If it is not breaking? There are plenty of other dynamic forces in play to capture your senses.   I can tell you there is a nice calm beach nearby.

(Tim Ewing and I slept there in sleeping bags back in the ....0's.)

Two days ago Peggy says to me out of the blue, " I want you to paint a wave." 

It wasn't easy.  And I had to mix mediums ( watercolor and acrylics).  And for what it is worth?  It is yours to ponder. And if you ever find this spot? I can tell you on this Easter Sunday, the very least it will do is "make you wonder about the existence of God."   

Written by prhinos Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 0 comments: Add your own

10:48:54 AM EDT

I shot (got this picture) this guy about a year ago, and just filed it away.  This past week I came upon it and decided HE should be painted. If you were to see the entire photo frame? You would clearly see his behavior represents a rite of Spring. He's not just up there chasing rainbows.

I hope you join me in being impressed with his flexibility and force.  And I hope it takes you a few seconds to realize what I was forced to face. 

I'm learning that one's best artistic feats come from drawing or painting WHAT one sees.  And if you look at this guy carefully?  Like Peggy did? You might see and say what she did?

"Paul, it only has three legs."

I didn't even notice it when I sketched it.  I went back to the photo I used for the model?  Sure enough there was no fourth leg in the picture.

I won't evaluate the veracity of my short and long term memory at this age.  But I will SWEAR by my emotional memory....and I clearly recall the SENSE of speed and energy being employed by this dude in search of a mate. I just can't believe for a minute he could do that on three legs.

So what do I do? Add a leg for the heck of it?  AND CLASS...that reminds me of a story I tell now and then about an old fellow employee, Andy Schaeffer. 

If I'm repeating myself? Sorry! Paul's Heimers again.

I was with Andy (a news photographer at the time, now in promotions for another TV station) at the old Stapleton Airport in Denver.  Our mission was to get a quick sound bite from then Denver Mayor Federico Pena before he headed on to a Continental Airlines Jet Way for a trip to Washington. 

The station also wanted some shots of the plane backing out and taxing out to the runway.  Well we were late, barely got a shot of the mayor and couldn't get an angle to shoot the plane.  A woman waiting for a later flight was sitting behind us.

She sees Andy's frustration and says kindly, "Why don't you just shoot this plane over here? It looks just like the other one."

The poor woman.  Andy puts his camera down, jumps a row of seats and gets right in this poor woman's face.  He gives her a good five minute lecture on journalistic integrity and honest photography and a whole bunch of other sermons she doesn't deserve.

This is a long way around to tell you I WILL NOT BE ADDING A FOURTH LEG  to old speedy up there. 

Actually Peggy and I have been speculating the antelope is SO flexible he must have that fourth leg tucked up under his right shoulder.  SO?

If you need that fourth? No three legged jokes please! Let's just accept it on faith its up there somewhere.  All we can do is just paint what we see, and see what we paint.  Eh?

Aren't you getting tired of all this POLITICAL COMMENTARY posing as journalism? I am!.

Written by prhinos Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 0 comments: Add your own