Illustrated people and a probable fan if he was still around.

I'm sorry I don't know who to credit for this illustration. But it ideally meshes Groucho Marx's screen persona and today's strange fixation with illustrating all portions of your body.

I located information regarding the illustrator who painted the Groucho and the illustrated woman. He is:

Mark A. Fredrickson lives in Tucson, Arizona. He attended Tennessee Temple College in Chattanooga, Tennessee, where he studied drawing and photography. He continued his education at the University of Arizona. In his senior year, Mark’s interest shifted from fine art to a career in commercial illustration.After leaving school, Fredrickson worked for The Arizona Daily Star as an editorial artist for over 4 years. When he left the newspaper to pursue free-lance illustration full time, he was already on his way to becoming a significant talent through exposure in national competitions.
Mark’s intensely dramatic and distinctively distorted but realistic style has garnered many awards and has been featured in numerous award publications including Communication Arts Illustration Annuals, Society of Illustrators Annuals, Print, Graphis, Idea, Airbrush Action, Art Directors Annuals, and Hot Air.

Wooden people who were stars.

Charley was the wooden ventriloquists dummy on the radio no less. Charlie McCarthy and his human partner Edgar Bergen (father of Candice) were a hit for many years. I always thought the insult throwing wooden person was about as funny as they got.

Doody was a wooden star of another era. Howdy was his first name and he was a star in the era of early television. He and his human partners Buffalo Bob and Clarabelle the clown held sway over a stable of other wooden friends including Mr Bluster and the lovable but stupid Dilly Dally. I should also mention Princess Summerfall Winterspring just because of her all seasons name.

Monarch on the Butterfly Bush

Not my butterfly bush, but this picture is replicating itself in my backyard complete with butterfly. Butterfly bushes in my experience are wonderful things of nature to add to your yard. Just pop it in the ground and soon lavender colored flowers will appear and the butterflies come with the deal free every year. Good deal, pretty sight.

Mc'D defies nature

I've seen this somewhere before, but for some reason I think it needs viewed again by McD patrons, of which I am one.

Here also as a public service is a map that shows where all the restaurants are across the country. But remember the pictures above. I will, but I will most likely, in fact no doubt about it will continue stepping up and ordering a quarter pounder and an order of fries every so often.
From GOOD BLOG.

Smooth Operators

Even when this comic strip was current, there were smooth operators practicing for their lives work. The financial world of today awaits.

Tenant Farmers Wife 1937

I had not seen this before. It is the year 1937 in Texas. This picture was taken by Dorothea Lange and it's titled WIFE OF TENANT FARMER. Someone sent it in to SHORPY. Great Picture.

A Great Steak

Hazel took me out on a date yesterday to celebrate belatedly my birthday. We went to a restaurant of my choice. I picked The Outback, and ordered the house special, a nine ounce sirloin steak cooked medium . Hazel got the same but a smaller size. Now I know that as well as the steak may be cooked it still is kind of a crap shoot to how tender the steak may or may not be. I've got to tell you though it was the most tender steak I may have ever had. It was delicious. The food gods were smiling on us, after the steak we followed up with their chocolate brownie stacked with ice cream and whipped cream. Oh so good. It was so good my appetite was not vanquished and I swear I could have eaten yet more. But sometimes good sense does prevail and we left happy and sated sitting happily on the porch of the establishment waiting for a light rain falling while the sun was shining to stop. Thank you Hazel for the treat, it was great.

Follow up to cat dumping video

UK woman says sorry for dumping cat in trash

Published - Aug 25 2010 07:29PM EST

LONDON — A British woman who outraged pet lovers around the world after she was caught on surveillance camera dumping a cat in a garbage bin apologized on Wednesday for what she called misjudgment and said the situation has gotten "out of control."

Online footage of Mary Bale tossing 4-year-old Lola into a trash bin and popping the top closed sparked angry messages online pledging retribution, and police had to post guards outside her house.

In a statement, Bale, 45, said she was "profoundly sorry" but offered no explanation of why she dumped the cat.

"I cannot explain why I did this, it is completely out of character and I certainly did not intend to cause any distress to Lola or her owners," said Bale, who is from Coventry in central England.

"It was a split second of misjudgment that has got completely out of control," she added.

Investigators at the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, which prosecutes cruelty cases, said Lola was trapped for 15 hours before being rescued on Sunday morning by her owners. The distressed cat was unharmed.

Lola's owners told British media that they traced Lola when they heard her muffled cries from inside the bin.

The couple _ who had installed a personal surveillance camera outside their home following a spate of thefts in the area _ posted the short surveillance video of Bale online, drawing tens of thousands of views.

Bale said she would meet with the RSPCA and police soon and would cooperate with their investigations.

Oh wow, what can you say about this

Cars: Ahead to the Past

I am certainly not a car buff or even a car fancier, but I do know that the American car business has been in the dumps for years. I also don't know what this means but I saw these two cars in the New York Times this morning. The Ford Mustang seems to be coming back, big and powerful and gas guzzling. Also interesting is Buicks new car for 2011 that features standard shift.
Ford Mustang
Buick Regal

Nukes, a cutesy word for a big problem.

Iran..Nukes..Now these two words scare the bejesus out of me. Add in a little Israel and the worst of all, politicians and a pinch or two of inflated ego's and a whole lot of disregard for what will inevitably follow when this tragic recipe is put into the oven and ignited. Try to think what will happen if and when that first device is launched. Time for explaining or making excuses will be ended and insanity will reign. If there is a pardon the expression politician or statesmen worth his salt it is time to open your mouths. Please.

Hibiscus

Good wife Hazel and I took an hour to check out the flowers at our town's most beautiful garden Kingwood. Hazel tells me these are Hibiscus.

Cultural touchstones

Two professors from Beloit college compile a list of cultural touchstones each year for the next college class. This one is for the class of 2014.

I had just read it quickly before I went out to lunch at a fast food establishment. I remember reading that wristwatches would not be worn because they would get their time for their cell phones.

I took an informal poll, very informal, I didn't keep count. The results though left no doubt they were right at least on that point. Watches were no more, except on us old boys and girls.

The Back Porch

a back porch is that magical place where a new idea could be born that would ignite and blossom in dimension and such importance that golden nameplates will mark the spot with dates and names and other historically important information where future citizens will be able to visit and be able to say I was there on the spot where the idea originated, or it may be that place where you lean back and consume a pastrami sandwich on rye and a cold beer and wonder if the Indians will ever start winning again.

(a monday morning jump start of a sleep clogged brain that I wrote without any consideration of punctuation which I love to do)

A relic for we relics

Barnes and Noble up for sale

Now this is one headline that I hate to see. Barnes and Noble is up for sale. It does not mean it is going out of business, but says it is in need of some major tinkering to remain in business. Why are they in trouble? For me personally it is because their product is too highly priced. To buy a book you have to be prepared to lay out $26 to $35 dollars. That's a lot of dollars to pay out for a book you most likely will read once.

How they would be able to bring the prices down to a reasonable level is beyond me, but I think it will have to be done somehow. I have succumbed to the digital sirens song and have purchased an e-reader. Why? Many reasons, but one, to stay on track, is that I can purchase a book for around ten dollars. On one hand I pay 35 dollars, on the other 10 dollars, hmmm which one do I pick? Another factor, albeit not a large consideration, is that after a lifetime of buying and accumulating books it's time to unload to open up some space for other uses. Digital readers, the one I bought, can store up to 3500 books. I won't live long enough to even scratch that surface.

That said, I have a Barnes and Noble in my town, and I would hate to see it go away. I have enjoyed innumerable afternoons there just strolling and sightseeing the titles and covers, taking perhaps a little time out for a coffee and a munchie. It is a welcoming place, allowing its patrons the freedom to just look or sit in a comfortable chair and sample a book or two.

I hope it stays in my town as long as I'm still breathing and can enjoy its ambiance in the leisurely manner they allow.

Presenting Duncan Davidson

I don't like to brag, but I am quite sure Hazel and I have the best looking children and now grandchildren. How is it possible? I don't know but here you have proof that it just goes on. This gentleman is a little Scottish American who is soon going to have to share his spotlight with a brother which will be another good looker. What can we do about it, it's a curse.

Phil the harmonica man

This is cool. I'm a sucker for these little feel good stories.

All I was looking for was a new chair...

Things sometimes happen that realize results that were not at all what was intended. The wife and I were on a shopping excursion to furniture stores trying to locate that perfect chair that would look fantastic and at the same time provide my aging back some much needed support. For some reason, known only to seniors, I avail myself more often now to the position named after some vegetable and linked to a couch, a couch potato is it? Oh well, so be it. I digress anyway. The story picks up in the furniture store where we located that perfect chair. While making arrangements for delivery I made my only contribution to the ladies handling the minutia involved in getting the chair from their warehouse to my living room. I asked, "was delivery included in the price?" Not to my surprise the answer was no, that would be an extra 79 dollars, she said sadly, unless, and this caught me by surprise again, unless I was a veteran. I hesitated and stumbled, no one had asked me that for over a half century. After the two sets of eyeballs kept staring at me I realized that, yes, of course I was a veteran. I made some awfully funny comeback, like sure I was a veteran, of the Spanish American war. But darn she was serious, and she and the wife didn't think my joke was funny anyway. Of course it wasn't, most of my jokes aren't.

It seems they were running a campaign that would drop the delivery costs if you were a veteran. I must tell you I was more than a little uncertain to avail myself of the deal, but my wife said I was a veteran, even though I knew they were talking about the Gulf War in which our second son served twice, it felt a little wrong even though I was by this time being given the "thank you for your service". I left feeling more than a little like a thief but happy for the 80 bucks I saved for delivery.

As this piece illustrates, I have since thought about the encounter over and over again. It is not that I said anything untruthful or my service was less than honorable. The deep dark reason I feel a little less deserving is because my service time of four years fell three years after the end of the American occupation of Japan in 1952, and about two years after the end of hostilities in Korea. My four years in the service fell neatly between any skirmishes that were ending and before any new problems that could have put me in harm's way. I never had a bullet fired at me in anger, a fact I am most grateful for, but compared to the brave young men that have chosen to serve in recent history, a little short on valor, and to those young men and women I too salute them.

So there you have it. The service, my choice was the Air Force, gave me so much more than I gave it. It gave me a chance to see portions of the world that I would not have seen otherwise, including New York, Wyoming, California, Wake Island, Japan, Okinawa, Taiwan, Hawaii, and Washington D.C. where I worked, among other places, the Pentagon. It taught me a trade that led me into a career in computers.

Plus the one ongoing behavior change that I am beholding to forever; I learned that someone besides my mother could make food that I might like, (remember I was 18 years old when I went into the military). I was in the chow line during tech school one morning, and one rule, you did not ask questions of the food servers. You just stuck your tray out and it came back with something on it. This morning it came back with two pieces of toast plastered with something spread on them. I asked the fellow GI with me, "what is that?" He replied to me, "It's creamed hamburger, better known as s--t on a shingle. I absolutely loved it, still do. I was on my way to more gourmet adventures on Uncle Sam's dollar.

My two son's followed me into the military. My elder son went into the Air Force, and gave the country nine years of exempleary service. My younger son decided that the Army was for him, and he gave the country twenty years of service in harm's way. Among the beautiful spots he served were Iraq (twice), and any other place under fire that Uncle Sam decided to invest our human resources. They did well.

Ticky Tacky Little Houses by Pete Seeger

I'm a little late, but I just ran into the Showtime series WEEDS. I had not heard the theme song for quite a while. Ticky Tacky Little Houses written by Malvena Reynolds here is sung by Pete Seeger. It fits into Seeger's songbook exactly right.

Getting the product out of the plastic wrapper

Even the most illustrious nerds wrestle with the packaging. Chris Pirillo takes a shot at getting his new purchase out of the wrapping.

McSweeney's

Timothy McSweeney publishes their findings on what is the best e-reader on the market. It is quite illuminating and I think more than a little funny.

The Coffee Critic

I was gifted recently with a single serve coffee maker. It's great and it has opened up a new world for me as a coffee critic. I have tried many brands, most all of which are available locally and I am sure the same will apply for you. I will list the brands that appeal to me in no particular order except that my favorite will of course like all such lists be reserved for last.

They are all it seems equal in taste to me the amateur critic. On the list of ground coffees are:

Dunkin Doughnuts

8 o'clock

Bob Evans

Seattle's Best

Folger's

Maxwell House

and the favorite is..wait a minute, we have a split vote. I the 'coffee critic' mentioned above picked:

Peets

I learned about Peets from Internet nerd Chris Pirillo who got hooked on the stuff and had to wean himself off of it. It was not available in my part of the country until now and even when it did become available it is the most costly of all the brands mentioned, ten bucks. A little high for me, but oh so good. Now for the split vote, my fellow judge picks Bob Evans coffee. She says it is the most mellow. To be quite frank though I think I will get out of the critic business because I liked them all, almost equally. Flip your coin and take your pick.

If you like another one better, let me know, I'd like to give it a try.

Hoover, oh how much I don't know.

Boy oh boy everyday I live, I become more convinced that I am so ignorant about so many things. It's kind of scary. Why I wonder, well a large reason is lack of taking it upon myself to investigate people and events in our past history. Also pure laziness I'm guessing; You think?

My readings include the magazine HARPER'S, and an essay entitled BARACK HOOVER OBAMA, by Kevin Baker. Printed in the July 2009 issue.

Leaving out the comparisons of Hoover and Obama and their times, I will leave that to you to analyze. What I want to remark on is my actual knowledge of the man Hoover, the problems he faced, and what looks like a similar fate for the two presidents. This man Hoover started out poor, being raised by a relative until he was taken out of public school and put to work for his uncle. Earned everything he had; had liberal ideas that were supposedly similar to the New Deal of Roosevelt; It is a very interesting read. I was angry after I read it. Angry because for all my years I have blamed him for being a do nothing, rich boy, uncaring caretaker president. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

The judgment that Obama's fate seems to correspond to Hoover's is troubling, but politicians are what they are, not much.

Chinese Bluegrass (Redgrass)

How to Blather

TO BLATHER:

Main Entry:	blather
Part of Speech:	noun
Definition:	talk a lot
Synonyms:	babble, blither, chatter, nonsense, prattle

The best definition sometimes is a visual example. I will provide that with this bit of prattle, blather, nonsense I created this morning. Sometimes I wonder as I did today, if our body is composed of ninety percent water, the other ten percent must surely then be baloney. In creating my example of blather the words seemed to flow. Perhaps I am divulging something that I most certainly know, that I have more than the allotted ten percent of baloney. Here then is my contribution of an example of blather.

innocence

good decisions, bad decisions, and the knowledge you can't go back and keep trying until you get it right. when do we learn or do we ever learn to do right the first time. must we put our hand in the fire to know that it will burn? just knowing that an action will unalterably be followed by ineradicable etching in the deep depths of your brain seems not to be reason enough to alter a behavior. Much to our detriment as one of God's foolish creations a word and the sure knowledge that two will follow one we seem eager to hoard our iniquities and suffer them regardless piling up body after body misdeed after misdeed until only death itself will be adequate to clean the slate that is our brain with the clean air of innocence.

Main Entry:	blather

Bittersweet

Bittersweet, that moment when the present is intertwined with the past. After pouring your cup of coffee and turning the morning paper to that section that is required reading for those of us at a certain age; not necessarily expecting a familiar name, but then again not surprised when you do. When our age corresponds with the actuary tables why should we be surprised. Early on in life if I saw a name of a fellow employee or an acquaintance I would pay my respects and sympathize with his or her bad luck. Recently though a new wrinkle in the macabre world of chance is occurring.

I am reading obits that immediately takes my mind on a bittersweet trip back to my childhood. Theirs and mine. I am losing those who shared my childhood and childhood thoughts. Bitter, or course, as normal sadness, but immediately on the heels comes the sweet memories of a shared childhood. Memories that were always there, but now brought back to be renewed and thought about again before I wish my playmates of long ago a pleasant eternity. Who knows, maybe those moments we shared on the ball fields or riding along country roads carefree and mostly happy in our moments together we may share again someday.

Two by August Mosca 1905-2003

Apprentice sailor

"OMG, Is it turn to starboard or port?" I can never remember.

Dogs and Chocolate

This Crankshaft is funny. Although I am not a dog owner perhaps we should really try to ferret out the truth. Here is an article, take a look.

Cleveland Indians and Mark Cuban

I have no idea how you initiate a ground swell of opinion, but I saw this at CBS sports message center today, and I so whole-heartily agree with it. It would be a great thing for we continually disappointed fans from the North Coast of Ohio and other Indian fans from around the country. The days of the Indians being considered a feeder of talent for the teams with deeper pockets (that's everyone else in MLB) really has to stop. It is perpetually demoralizing.

Indians Should Be Sold To Cuban

Now it seems that Mark Cuban has been shut out of the MLB team ownership circles for the second time. It seems Cuban despite his antics has a real passion for the game, plus it seems like it has been his dream to be an owner of a professional team. I really don't see why some people are having a major problem with this possibility. I mean if anything Cuban has shown he can promote his team and go out and spend good money on quality free agents.

I think he could turn around even one of the worst franchises in a matter of five years if given his resources and the current salary structures. I for one would love for him to be sold the Cleveland Indians as I am tired of seeing some of my favorite players shipped off to whatever port of call overnight. The Dolans really seem intent on only providing a somewhat competitive franchise as the limit. It has become almost blatantly obvious they have been stalling the fans of Cleveland and blowing smoke up their backsides for years now.

The fans were promised a competitor by 2005. That promise was made in maybe 2002 or 2003. Here we are in 2010 and once again free agency has claimed more of their assets while getting virtually nothing in the depository. Mark Cuban would be a great owner for the Indians and reminds me of the time when they were almost owned by George Steinbrenner. There were some same parallels between the two and I am pretty sure George turned out alright. The guy had turned a what less than 30 million dollar franchise into a billion dollar industry? The Indians organization I think could take similar leaps and bounds if sold to Cuban or his like.

No more election days for me.

I am seventy three years old and have voted regularly all my life. I have commiserated with those outs campaigning to get in, and those ins, incumbents, explaining as best they could to the electorate why their plans may not have panned out. I have tried to understand why the best of plans failed, and I have rejoiced when their plans came together. After all it is my country as well. But finally even those of us filled with vast amounts of naivete have to open our eyes sometimes and see before us 'career politicians' of the worse stripe. Politicians who talk ugly, act ugly, and run each cycle only to keep themselves in office. Remaining in office where most become little demigods who most likely don't remember why it was they wanted the job in the first place. I used to think that term limits would be a good thing figuring the less time at the trough of greed would be a good thing. That thought died also with my before mentioned naivety, it isn't going to happen.

I grieve at this late stage in my life that the days of Jimmy Stewart portraying the fictional Jefferson Smith in Mr. Smith goes to Washington and going into the well of congress and filibustering until the bad eggs saw the evil of their ways and everything worked out is over, or more sadly never was.

I have gotten to the stage of life where time is uncertain, and I refuse to listen and/or read and/or watch these people anymore. More importantly and more sadly is my decision not to cast my vote that many very good people fought very hard to get me. Next election day I will stay home and like the ostrich stick my head in the sand and have another cup of coffee. My vote is not important anymore, probably never was, but I will stay home and I can guarantee you my state of mind will be better. My children hopefully will not follow my path. I believe they won't, after all it took the crooks and politicians` fifty years to convince me to throw them to the gutter where most of them belong. If they are not dwelling there now they will soon enough.

Addendum: Good wife Hazel is grieved, and hopeful that I am writing in a moment of pique and my better judgement will prevail come election day. Her opinion is paramount with me. We'll see.

An email from my old air force buddy originally from Oklahoma Argus Stilley. He says:

Hi Jim,

You and I are of the same mind about the current batch of politicians. If one votes now, it is like having a choice of Jessy James or Billy the Kid for Bank President. Alas, what's to
be done?

Neil Armstrong makes a funny.

The story comes with the proviso that it is a true story. True or not, it's a good story.

GUARANTEED TO MAKE YOU SMILE..... ESPECIALLY SINCE IT'S A TRUE STORY.

ON JULY 20, 1969, AS COMMANDER OF THE APOLLO 11 LUNAR MODULE, NEIL ARMSTRONG
WAS THE FIRST PERSON TO SET FOOT ON THE MOON.
HIS FIRST WORDS AFTER STEPPING ON THE MOON, "THAT'S ONE SMALL STEP
FOR MAN, ONE GIANT LEAP FOR MANKIND," WERE TELEVISED TO EARTH AND HEARD BY MILLIONS.

BUT JUST BEFORE HE REENTERED THE LANDER, HE MADE THE ENIGMATIC REMARK
"GOOD LUCK, MR. GORSKY."

MANY PEOPLE AT NASA THOUGH IT WAS A CASUAL REMARK CONCERNING SOME
RIVAL SOVIET COSMONAUT. HOWEVER, UPON CHECKING, THERE WAS NO GORSKY IN
EITHER THE RUSSIAN OR AMERICAN SPACE PROGRAMS.

OVER THE YEARS MANY PEOPLE QUESTIONED ARMSTRONG AS TO WHAT THE "GOOD
LUCK, MR. GORSKY" STATEMENT MEANT, BUT ARMSTRONG ALWAYS JUST SMILED.

ON JULY 5, 1995, IN TAMPA BAY, FLORIDA, WHILE ANSWERING QUESTIONS
FOLLOWING A SPEECH, A REPORTER BROUGHT UP THE 26-YEAR-OLD QUESTION TO ARMSTRONG.

THIS TIME HE FINALLY RESPONDED. MR. GORSKY HAD DIED, SO NEIL
ARMSTRONG FELT HE COULD ANSWER THE QUESTION.

IN 1938 WHEN HE WAS A KID IN A SMALL MIDWEST TOWN, HE WAS PLAYING
BASEBALL WITH A FRIEND IN THE BACKYARD. HIS FRIEND HIT THE BALL,

WHICH LANDED IN HIS NEIGHBOR'S YARD BY THE BEDROOM WINDOWS.

HIS NEIGHBORS WERE MR. AND MRS.GORSKY. AS HE LEANED DOWN TO PICK
UP THE BALL, YOUNG ARMSTRONG HEARD MRS. GORSKY SHOUTING AT MR. GORSKY.
"SEX! YOU WANT SEX?! YOU'LL GET SEX WHEN THE KID NEXT DOOR WALKS ON THE MOON!"

TRUE STORY.

When the last bit of creativity is finally beyond my grasp. I say man to best friend:

Nutcracker meets Mr. Peanut

230 smoking scenes on Mad Men and counting.

I used to smoke is a phrase a lot of us can tweet proudly. I quit about 33 years ago for the final time. As many others I had a couple or three attempts that failed before that. I don't think I ever enjoyed smoking, but when I grew up it just seemed the thing to do, a rite of passage as they say. I was never a very good smoker though. I burned many holes in many ties in my smoking career before I gave it all up to my advantage.