I'm sorry to take so long to update the blog. It seems Google wanted me to run the gauntlet and wouldn't allow me to sign in till I said uncle. I finally said uncle and so I am here.
I am enjoying wearing shorts and the weather. While driving around in The Crapper today, I turned on the AC. Monty really liked having the AC on. He really didn't need it but it is along the same line as having ice cream on the top of apple pie. It just makes good better. The puppies are long haired and they complain when hot.We had a lady ask today if we saved their fur to make clothing. Oh buddy, I had flashbacks of the Santa Fe Farmer's Market. No, I am not spinning the puppies’ fur into hippy hats. Don’t get me started on the hippy hats. It took me a week to stop talking about the hippies. Thank God and Greyhound they’re gone. Well, sort of. Anyway, the weather has been great.
I went bike riding in the wash today. I’ve mentioned the wash a couple times.The bike trail goes along the outer rim for about a mile then dips into the dry river bed for about a half mile then reemerges and runs off God knows where. I was riding around having a blast when I saw a guy sitting on the concrete edge of the rim,and was dressed like he was out jogging. I rode past him and being a Southern gentleman, I told him what a nice day it was. He mumbled something that I couldn’t hear.I didn’t pay too much attention to what he said, because Californian folks are not used to being around nice mannered, Southern people, and their heads tend to explode when someone is nice to them. A few minutes later I rode past the guy again, but I was a little closer to the rim this time. That is when I saw his tent that he had erected in the wash. Homeboy was actually Homelessboy. I am told that homeless people live in the wash. All around that area I saw piles of stuff that normally would have been found in a person's suitcase or purse--no not a man purse. It looked like an area where suitcases and purses had been stolen and dumped out onto the ground. What struck me as amazing is that the water in the wash can come up very suddenly during a rain and he and the tent would float down the wash very unceremoniously. We eastcoasters don’t understand the power of a little rain. The ground here doesn’t absorb water; it runs quickly to the washes. A simple rain becomes a river in the wash in minutes. Of course this guy and his tent likely would get washed away from a small rain storm. That got me to thinking how we could help him. When the water finally subsided, all he would need to do was loot stores, shoot at the people that arrived to help him, and finally move into a FEMA trailer. Later he could sue FEMA for endangering his life with formaldehyde from the trailer. This guy would go from homeless guy living in the wash to rich guy living in a mansion (that has a view of the wash) in no time flat. Hold on while I run outside and put up my American flag.
A great deal of the streets here in the valley are named after famous people. A few good examples would be Dinah Shore Drive, Bob Hope Drive, Gerald Ford Drive, Frank Sinatra Drive, etc. I love it. There is a Mary Pickford Theater too. I must admit the only way that I knew Mary Pickford was from an episode of The Beverly Hillbillies where Mary Pickford was their favorite actress. You will not find any current celebrities with street named after them. May I make a few suggestions? . How about Tiger Woods Blvd which would would be lined with bordellos and golf club stores. Michael Jackson Ave would lead you through a gaggle of children's playgrounds and plastic surgery hospitals. Of course Richard Gere Street would butt up to Gerbil Blvd. I could go on for hours. When did our celebrities become such weird people?
See yall tomorrow unless Google wants to play more games.
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