It’s been a year abouts since I been gone. Couldn’t much stand bein’ alone after Martha left. The house is all I got now. It don’t look like much but with a little time I could get it proper again. If I wanted. She promised she’d never leave, but some promises can’t be kept. I know that. And it shouldn’t have been a great surprise, what with the nearest doctor a couple hours away. They’re restin’ now, momma and child. Just waitin’ for when I come join them. Martha and the little one. Name would have been Jamie. Like mine.
Boom Trail Trestle
On a recent visit with my son, we went for a walk in the Boom Island Park. When I got down on my knees to grab this shot, he strolled away, pretending not to know me.
I get that a lot!
“Now some folks say it’s too big
And uses too much gas
Some folks say it’s too old
And that it goes too fast
But my love is bigger than a Honda
Yeah, it’s bigger than a Subaru
Hey man there’s only one thing
And one car that will do
Anyway we don’t have to drive it
Honey we can park it out in back
And have a party in your pink Cadillac.”
Berthing Space on the USS Midway
During World War II, Navy sailors slept in “racks”, berthing spaces on their ship, 3ft x 6ft cots/bunks stacked 3 high. The space between the mat and the roof above your head for the bottom and middle bunk was approx. 30″. Some sailors would string up hammocks to sleep on in the ship. When it was too hot they would sleep on the deck of the ship.
And it was always too hot!
Anybody out there remember when the gas pumps had only one space on the left of the decimal point for the cost of gas? Meaning, no matter what you drove, you could fill up for under ten dollars? In high school, when a bunch of us would cruise the boulevard on a Friday night, we’d all pitch in fifty cents for gas. (Yeah, I’m that old.) A far cry from last week when a full tank of gas cost me almost sixty dollars. Maybe I’ll buy myself a Harley. I see lots of baby boomers these days on bikes. Only trouble is, I’m going to have to be able to raise my leg up and over the seat.
Well, to be honest, these are not actually the sands of the Kalahari. These are the sands of Death Valley. But I figure there isn’t much difference between the sands of South Africa and California. So why did I choose the title of a 1965 British film that I’ve never seen? Just liked the name I suppose.
I wonder if the film is any good?
Any of you too young to understand the allusion to Soylent Green, it is a 1973 dystopian film in which the title refers to a pre-packaged food substitute. Briefly, in 2022, 40 million people live in New York City where housing is dilapidated and food and working technology are scarce. Most of the population survives on rations produced by the Soylent Corporation. Their latest product is Soylent Green, a green wafer advertised to contain “high-energy plankton” from the oceans of the world, but in short supply. Truth is, Soylent Green is actually made out of people.
I often wonder, when I pass one of these factories out in the middle of the desert, what they are processing late at night.
Clyde Barrow: Now you just tell me what was wrong with that car.
C. W. Moss: Dirt.
Clyde Barrow: Dirt?
C. W. Moss: Dirt in the fuel line…, just blowed it away. ~ Bonnie And Clyde, 1967
“A check or credit card, a Gucci bag strap, anything of value will do. Give as you live.” ~ Jesse Jackson
Lower Antelope Canyon
OK, all right. I admit it. I can be a jerk at times. Before we were married, Lynn wanted to surprise me with a trip to Antelope Canyon and Monument Valley. That’s a drive of 285 miles one way. When we drove into the parking lot, I had a mini meltdown and refused to go on the tour because there were about 25 or 30 other people waiting in line before us and I hate crowds. I thought we were going to explore the canyon alone, I guess. (I’ll take a break here so you can all laugh.)
Well, do NOT make the same mistake I almost made. Lynn coaxed and coddled till I relented. And it was one of the most exhilarating, exciting natural wonders of the southwest United States I’ve ever seen, rivaled only by Monument Valley, the Grand Canyon, and Arches National Park. And maybe one or two others.
Don’t all you men wish you had a woman like mine? Who’ll put up with your shenanigans? And don’t all you women believe that all we men are still just 13-year-old brats who have to always have our way? And throw tantrums if we can’t?
To this day, I have no idea why Lynn decided to marry me. Maybe she felt sorry for me and thought she could change me? I know she’s still trying.