tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62441171817656245242024-03-05T02:10:41.140-08:00The Magic CommutePhotos and commentary about my commute from suburban Kansas City, North to rural Ray County, Mo., plus the occasional detour to Wiggleroom, U.S.A. The emphasis is on all things beautiful, funny or profound: nature, farming, animals, music, local quirks, customs, assorted roadside oddities and random insights, which about covers it, doesn't it?Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05205890431766666868noreply@blogger.comBlogger94125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244117181765624524.post-48008667975381468722012-02-23T04:42:00.000-08:002012-02-23T04:42:33.253-08:00The sublime art of beer appreciationHere's a column I wrote for The Kansas City Star's Northland Neighborhood News. It ran on Wednesday, Feb. 22 and is reprinted with permission.<br />
<br />
By David Knopf<br />
Special to The Star<br />
<br />
The fact that I’m not a beer drinker is a good thing. I’m not sure I could find room for another messy habit.<br />
I do drink a beer now and then, but the timing has to be perfect. A hot, dusty bout with the lawn is a good bet, but not surefire.<br />
Given my ambivalence, I’m not sure why I wandered into the beer section at the grocery store. It was around Christmas, I was off work and meandering, a pastime I do better than drink beer.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmfWCXUn2UAuACab8hl3IXXIF88hMDRC3n1B5CMatOZf2tJbyWUZperqDLrc6LJXq6Jl6K9pCqj9q20onzN_uHXdQ6rhM327Xp9z0Gr3PmKHQZ4KdBaI5s4MkliZjHwhgMxPsFzS9-wf9J/s1600/Stooges+beer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmfWCXUn2UAuACab8hl3IXXIF88hMDRC3n1B5CMatOZf2tJbyWUZperqDLrc6LJXq6Jl6K9pCqj9q20onzN_uHXdQ6rhM327Xp9z0Gr3PmKHQZ4KdBaI5s4MkliZjHwhgMxPsFzS9-wf9J/s1600/Stooges+beer.jpg" /></a></div>I proceeded to look for “The Three Stooges Beer” (Panther Brewing Co.), which I found a few years ago and have sought since. The beer was fine, but as someone said on “Beer Advocate,” an enthusiasts’ review site, who can complain about a beer with chowderheads on the label?<br />
Not I, dear knuckleheads.<br />
Nothing’s simple today. I didn’t count the micro-varieties, but I spent a half hour reading labels, laughing out loud and enjoying the artwork. The casual observer might’ve thought I’d had a six-pack in the car.<br />
I immediately grasped that what’s on the label may be more important than what’s inside.<br />
I jotted down a few quirky names. People get nervous when you start taking notes, so I told the fellow next to me that I planned on researching some new brands before buying. That seemed plausible since the modern generation takes its beer choices as seriously as wine aficionados take vineyards, vintages and yellow cardigan sweaters.<br />
In the old days, you wouldn’t combine the words “beer” and “serious” in a sentence unless you said something like “seriously plastered,” or worse.<br />
But things are more complicated now. Blue-collar labels such as Pabst Blue Ribbon and Schlitz have given way to Trout Slayer Wheat Ale (Big Sky Brewing Co., Missoula, Mont.) and Old Gollywobbler Brown (Sea Dog Brewing Co., “on the banks of the historic Penobscot River in downtown Bangor, Maine”).<br />
Also noteworthy: Young’s Double Chocolate Stout (Bedford, England); Coney Island Freaktoberfest (Shmaltz Brewing Co., New York); Long Strange Tripel Ale (Boulevard Brewing, Kansas City); Blackened Voodoo Lager (New Orleans); Hebrew – “The Chosen Beer,” Messiah Bold (San Francisco); Git-R-Done Golden Lager (Pawnee City, Neb., “Revitalizing Rural America One Beer at a Time”); and a local brew, Drop Kick Ale – “The Beer that Kicks Back” (Weston Brewing Co.).<br />
Research is fine, but you have to taste something to know if you like it. That’s why the store allows the beer connoisseur — in my day, clearly an oxymoron — to mix-and-match six-packs. <br />
I’d like to taste some of these beers, but at almost nine bucks a pop for a six-pack, I’d feel compelled to finish something I didn’t like – or spit it out and feel guilty. <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzQ_KHkB1gt6_DLWB30Vya-oaYU46E47EYU8tClVjZcqFQMLUgR_ClqsLAIUraz26NpeTdu62U7i68TOa4Cib87iwuLr5gD-IWRx1sZQa_LoX00A5QdPRINAABueo6d2bgM_vyxd2I3A55/s1600/Orangeboom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzQ_KHkB1gt6_DLWB30Vya-oaYU46E47EYU8tClVjZcqFQMLUgR_ClqsLAIUraz26NpeTdu62U7i68TOa4Cib87iwuLr5gD-IWRx1sZQa_LoX00A5QdPRINAABueo6d2bgM_vyxd2I3A55/s1600/Orangeboom.jpg" /></a>I was in St. Louis recently and made my first visit to Trader Joe’s, kind of a counter-culture grocery store. Sitting among the grocery’s entertaining displays of health food, fun food and beer singles were cans of Oranjeboom, a Dutch beer I last drank in 1969 on a student ship.<br />
I hadn’t seen that brand of beer since, so nostalgic fool that I am I bought one. I drank it with a steak dinner, and that first sip was sublime … I mean, good. It wasn’t Three Stooges good, but how could it be without those chowderheads on the label? <br />
<div class="pager"> </div><div class="shirttail"><br />
</div><div class="shirttail">David Knopf, a self-medicating caffeine addict, lives in the Northland and works for the Richmond News. He is the creator of themagiccommute.blogspot.com and a songwriter. You can write him at dknopf@kc.rr.com. Note: The Three Stooges Beer is sadly out of production.</div><div style="color: black; font: 10pt sans-serif; height: 1px; overflow: hidden; text-align: left; text-transform: none; width: 1px;"><br />
Read more here: http://www.kansascity.com/2012/02/21/3443114/david-knopf-the-sublime-art-of.html#storylink=misearch#storylink=cpy</div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05205890431766666868noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244117181765624524.post-21711311776346668372012-02-11T19:44:00.000-08:002012-02-11T19:44:41.265-08:00Low-rolling clouds to the west at sunset<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn9vFNQjvYkOhd3HcA6lrR8lNlvIdxI1VWzThcLmCm42s-uuzh-QT6OvoClbJOZXYjgTowkCIN9hfiXrfQT8RexcZQjZWqJBrbNxCfzO81nMDyS8tro2K002fOWe0ygPxImJudwUwArxcH/s1600/2012_0210Triphome0006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="82" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn9vFNQjvYkOhd3HcA6lrR8lNlvIdxI1VWzThcLmCm42s-uuzh-QT6OvoClbJOZXYjgTowkCIN9hfiXrfQT8RexcZQjZWqJBrbNxCfzO81nMDyS8tro2K002fOWe0ygPxImJudwUwArxcH/s320/2012_0210Triphome0006.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">I first noticed the low cloud bank along H Highway between Excelsior Springs and Liberty.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9vVzAA51DdDJP3dGIgZCTqINRxm23tJuYqKOoZ8vAy_RrxdOhyphenhyphenota2n0TDn2Zz39RB8jiPnojWhBWf3lnLpIWOM8x6bA80OEUU2CdoYdwfIgOF9AKcz3Kc5QEQ-puWh6nBk1bSRATs733/s1600/2012_0210Triphome0013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9vVzAA51DdDJP3dGIgZCTqINRxm23tJuYqKOoZ8vAy_RrxdOhyphenhyphenota2n0TDn2Zz39RB8jiPnojWhBWf3lnLpIWOM8x6bA80OEUU2CdoYdwfIgOF9AKcz3Kc5QEQ-puWh6nBk1bSRATs733/s400/2012_0210Triphome0013.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Quite an unusual cloud formation to the west at sunset Friday. I couldn't take my eyes off a long line of clouds that seemed to be nestled in a valley, as if between two hills or mountains. I've seen things like this during my early-morning commute to Ray County, but nothing similar on the way home. I wasn't sure at one point if what I was seeing was clouds settling close to the ground or smoke that collected from a fire. Given the length of the formation (see the smaller photo at the top, taken along H Highway between Excelsior Springs and Liberty, which only shows part of it) it would've had to have been a huge fire. Anyone have any physical explanation for why this would occur when it did? I've guessed that it may have something to do with condensation created by the differences in temperature in the sky and on the ground, but I have no idea if there's anything to that. In the bottom photo, you can clearly see how thick and low the clouds were. These photos were taken at Highway 152 and Church Road, near the Liberty Walmart.</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizr2mgTlK-lkNLy8UZ8k7LKOibNgkdTFYNFfLOTimoLMWaC-JesZzwdgdV8LFLuv8eyLi69Vz5RRkdY_SyAQM2tBo8StpzYOWeod-i4U6VzXKIbP22xVDaFhMmzFaPf4SIx7Fk5XPXAOKZ/s1600/2012_0210Triphome0015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizr2mgTlK-lkNLy8UZ8k7LKOibNgkdTFYNFfLOTimoLMWaC-JesZzwdgdV8LFLuv8eyLi69Vz5RRkdY_SyAQM2tBo8StpzYOWeod-i4U6VzXKIbP22xVDaFhMmzFaPf4SIx7Fk5XPXAOKZ/s640/2012_0210Triphome0015.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05205890431766666868noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244117181765624524.post-91892685128298208532012-02-10T17:32:00.000-08:002012-02-10T17:32:19.505-08:00When House Hunters comes to the Upper Missouri River Basin, we find Michelle and Gene discussing the ramifications of a river view<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO7Y-t90gBIGXkieBXpjKK5o7Qo2twAcKlmdo8qfw5NgWIpy-4GDgXWgBy37jm6ZehfEJyhgtaI87zDWZrQZPQ9Rlp6OPtPidMjhuOw_lmwoGYOQQAWvaMyDzH0LwmEyca0AAkKDBqyQd3/s1600/House+Hunters+on+the+Riverside.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO7Y-t90gBIGXkieBXpjKK5o7Qo2twAcKlmdo8qfw5NgWIpy-4GDgXWgBy37jm6ZehfEJyhgtaI87zDWZrQZPQ9Rlp6OPtPidMjhuOw_lmwoGYOQQAWvaMyDzH0LwmEyca0AAkKDBqyQd3/s640/House+Hunters+on+the+Riverside.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05205890431766666868noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244117181765624524.post-66501475760907111112012-02-06T17:34:00.000-08:002012-02-06T17:34:27.196-08:00Menu changes as silent majority silent no more on what it likes to eat<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDRwXc_4kvT7vuh7p0MSU3igfd-bjN9FP1KZ0RhiSVFEMeRLiBzIb4J9oZPImGnIG7JO-bxjVwNMz76Fft_-b7GHjj0C4YDDc5I8Z-CG1ct0RYODnpBjWmVmkTXrgwGKusk_Kj9JChfYx1/s1600/Parking+Lot+Traffic+Adds+Dollar+General.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDRwXc_4kvT7vuh7p0MSU3igfd-bjN9FP1KZ0RhiSVFEMeRLiBzIb4J9oZPImGnIG7JO-bxjVwNMz76Fft_-b7GHjj0C4YDDc5I8Z-CG1ct0RYODnpBjWmVmkTXrgwGKusk_Kj9JChfYx1/s640/Parking+Lot+Traffic+Adds+Dollar+General.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05205890431766666868noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244117181765624524.post-7662767315771314632012-02-06T13:56:00.000-08:002012-02-06T13:56:19.308-08:00Not the use I intended for my microwave spaghetti and meatballs<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">In an effort to disseminate my embarrassment and slovenly ways to a wider audience, I'm copying the link below to a recent column of mine in The Kansas City Star's Neighborhood News. Moral of the story: keep your eye on the meatball(s).</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQuXVg1lOosEssG3fO7ov2UJwC4Gvibjvo19KweZ9L2URqQOyM0sjoeI_aV2FB5IpReGIwBoKs56OeskJZmfayVwkL_K4Pem2U_IEhM6PbNwg8p3outaiGEHRH4I06fom_WbxMOrmMRMnu/s1600/spag.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQuXVg1lOosEssG3fO7ov2UJwC4Gvibjvo19KweZ9L2URqQOyM0sjoeI_aV2FB5IpReGIwBoKs56OeskJZmfayVwkL_K4Pem2U_IEhM6PbNwg8p3outaiGEHRH4I06fom_WbxMOrmMRMnu/s200/spag.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not the spaghetti and meatballs in question but you get the idea.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><a href="http://www.kansascity.com/2012/01/24/3389018/david-knopf-always-keep-your-eyes.html#storylink=misearch" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">http://www.kansascity.com/2012/01/24/3389018/david-knopf-always-keep-your-eyes.html#storylink=misearch</a>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05205890431766666868noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244117181765624524.post-77761387027222986882012-02-05T11:08:00.000-08:002012-02-05T11:08:58.610-08:00Sunrise over the grain elevator and water tower in Orrick, Mo.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJKc4Fy2HyUES09qVAtV48lfekgTaNyoYxT0nYBbH-KWTrPTcNO9yKwEgTpxraBMiCbd7q1k4VWhuqGigehk4GuFyxi66q9P0_C_DpXXZomtbjBTVuAeyC3XwWOkfZurb-JYSVPaiUw7J-/s1600/Sunrise+Over+Orrick.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJKc4Fy2HyUES09qVAtV48lfekgTaNyoYxT0nYBbH-KWTrPTcNO9yKwEgTpxraBMiCbd7q1k4VWhuqGigehk4GuFyxi66q9P0_C_DpXXZomtbjBTVuAeyC3XwWOkfZurb-JYSVPaiUw7J-/s640/Sunrise+Over+Orrick.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">I usually do something with photos that come out of the camera, but this wasn't cropped, straightened, lightened, brightened, darkened etc. It was a vivid morning and I'm glad I pulled over to take a shot.</span></b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05205890431766666868noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244117181765624524.post-1928000119360995032012-02-04T17:55:00.000-08:002012-02-05T03:29:19.437-08:00Flights of imagination in Ray and Clay counties -- all in a single day<div style="color: #783f04; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>I had a very strange day this week. The weather was unseasonably warm (one of the short-term benefits of global warming, i.e. Nero fiddling while Rome burns) and everyone was out playing. As is my wont (just wanted to use the word "wont", which gives Spell Check fits), I kept to my usual routine, which is only spiced up by thrift store visits, guitar playing and roadside photos. It was a big day for photos -- not necessarily works of art, mind you, but stimulating ones far out of the ordinary. What made the day unusual was the pattern of things related to flying, with or without feathered wings. The captions will explain the locations and circumstances, if that is their wont.</b></span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5fzz9y3FZf8bzS4bnd1c9FtS1SY8ccPWAA4-6Qsiwun419hc8nhZJzRFcQzf6t0pEBV6LwB8G6V0IY48uTHyOfs7Q9tRWcGeBY9732IYnF6luvVMqXhP-fIGpN4ZJuJWa3vca5of0PvI-/s1600/Stealth+Hawk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5fzz9y3FZf8bzS4bnd1c9FtS1SY8ccPWAA4-6Qsiwun419hc8nhZJzRFcQzf6t0pEBV6LwB8G6V0IY48uTHyOfs7Q9tRWcGeBY9732IYnF6luvVMqXhP-fIGpN4ZJuJWa3vca5of0PvI-/s400/Stealth+Hawk.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">This isn't a Stealth Bomber doing a pre-game flyover, but a hawk crossing Highway 210 near Richmond. The hawk sensed me taking photos, left the top of a power pole and flew over the road.</span></b></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdinaBBvC0D7gzPfUVXhhYYH8YdO_UgaEIZGM43zTKC6ctOPPY4yxD4_HeWux2kNJPgbwT0RypWc388V6b8lxy3oNOGkOdWS18ZuckfH6MBH-_cggrBLKhu-IixDx9c59AL5X2-Ms6FARn/s1600/Pidgeon+Takes+Off.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdinaBBvC0D7gzPfUVXhhYYH8YdO_UgaEIZGM43zTKC6ctOPPY4yxD4_HeWux2kNJPgbwT0RypWc388V6b8lxy3oNOGkOdWS18ZuckfH6MBH-_cggrBLKhu-IixDx9c59AL5X2-Ms6FARn/s400/Pidgeon+Takes+Off.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">I've written several times about the unshakable relationship between pigeons and the Richmond Square. This fella took off from the roof of the Methodist Church with unusual grace and good flying form. I was glad to get a shot. I think of pigeons as lovably chubby waddlers, not daring flyboys.</span></span></b></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX76J4P8ODuM3Gb-6xj0WsVRDeo0SKToqydbh5hAbTcfZ_dKGtBAX4sVdeSXOe1mdZbbNfaIkFxUEjzcNHX0vXOKdgXoxFHJ9pIdbn3QYuA2GB8IqcBSS_LFGP4Oc28yzP80EfhSIbz1oa/s1600/Plane.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX76J4P8ODuM3Gb-6xj0WsVRDeo0SKToqydbh5hAbTcfZ_dKGtBAX4sVdeSXOe1mdZbbNfaIkFxUEjzcNHX0vXOKdgXoxFHJ9pIdbn3QYuA2GB8IqcBSS_LFGP4Oc28yzP80EfhSIbz1oa/s400/Plane.jpg" width="400" /></a></b></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">There are a few ultralight aircraft hangars on the south side of 210 Highway between Liberty and Missouri City. I'm fascinated by anything that flies, natural or man-made, so I'm always thrilled when the ultralights are out. As you can see below, there were several in the sky at once.</span></b></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEuHIGJf7-t8uqDAmBJtsH8Lk9tcPAdohKsqhBW6GolzMeE0_dPqg3_b8AVMeLR0gNxVWtJpqH2N4rpk-LmoyXUBaE0Ty_uzNYxW29USLjQ6Oxns_KfmeXEnqwe48LVBTG-I1YE6Td8lOi/s1600/Lightweights.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEuHIGJf7-t8uqDAmBJtsH8Lk9tcPAdohKsqhBW6GolzMeE0_dPqg3_b8AVMeLR0gNxVWtJpqH2N4rpk-LmoyXUBaE0Ty_uzNYxW29USLjQ6Oxns_KfmeXEnqwe48LVBTG-I1YE6Td8lOi/s400/Lightweights.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b style="color: #783f04;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Not only were the ultralights flying, they were playful, almost like Canada geese making the most of the ability to counter gravity. These two planes were either playing tag, buzzing the field or one was landing while the other was taking off.</span></b></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_aCGno3x1jq0O3iOIc6IelfsJd0qCoaG0K7hy6Ax0ASDrCWU5EkArPrkY-v4rvLEdWLThaFC4731vV0yY2A-fK8JogObFitN__2goqLVPPQSdn5q9_lGfgkcgUMFBqfCSeA4ZOQocCCln/s1600/2012_0201Lightairplane0010-1+%282%29+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="351" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_aCGno3x1jq0O3iOIc6IelfsJd0qCoaG0K7hy6Ax0ASDrCWU5EkArPrkY-v4rvLEdWLThaFC4731vV0yY2A-fK8JogObFitN__2goqLVPPQSdn5q9_lGfgkcgUMFBqfCSeA4ZOQocCCln/s400/2012_0201Lightairplane0010-1+%282%29+-+Copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr style="color: #b45f06; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #783f04;">Later, I picked up my son at school in Liberty. As we entered Beige Estates (our subdivision, motto: "Come join us and discover the infinite shades of tan, beige, taupe and mauve"), we saw two hot-air balloons floating between the homes. Isaac took a shot (with a camera), but when I got to Walmart to run an errand I saw one landing in the direction of Liberty Oaks Elementary School. I snapped a shot and that was it for a day that was clearly up, up and away.</span></b></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05205890431766666868noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244117181765624524.post-84631707083343081702012-02-04T03:21:00.000-08:002012-02-04T03:25:52.440-08:00For Grateful Dead fans, a sign on the road to Missouri City, Mo. and the complete audio-visual experience. Just gotta poke around.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoaHcrKjkDysVc7mMfU-RoRlxU7SRXsqlh-J6_LrdvMFwlwBzJOhZ0FXifd0gcB9rg7TQvM4qQ6qWMUuEuyvzhUEhLRbkCv4v8n2stwwmZOTtjCBCh5WpZwkT1YOkNXzz8l7YzGFr5cXFO/s1600/Shakedown+Street.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoaHcrKjkDysVc7mMfU-RoRlxU7SRXsqlh-J6_LrdvMFwlwBzJOhZ0FXifd0gcB9rg7TQvM4qQ6qWMUuEuyvzhUEhLRbkCv4v8n2stwwmZOTtjCBCh5WpZwkT1YOkNXzz8l7YzGFr5cXFO/s640/Shakedown+Street.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; font-size: small;">Make sure to read the fine print. Does this mean the individual defacing public property wanted to "stop Shakedown Street"? Is he referring to the length of the song? For non-Grateful Dead fans, "Shakedown Street" is the title of one of the band's more popular dance tunes. (Yes, some Dead dance numbers could last up to a day and a half, or at least seem that way.) A little bit of the lyric: <i><b>"Nothin shakin on shakedown street. used to be the heart of town. Dont tell me this town aint got no heart. you just gotta poke around."</b></i> Bruddah, ain't dat the troot. The more I poke around, the more I like where I am, the more heart I discover this place has. It's not the town or the street; it's your pokeability. I gotten real pokey. For the complete audio-visual experience, click on this link to see/hear the Dead perform "Shakedown Street" in 1989. The song's so long, it comes it two parts. </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=19qve36RSDY&feature=related">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=19qve36RSDY&feature=related</a><br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GBKhKdOkS8Y&feature=related">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GBKhKdOkS8Y&feature=related</a>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05205890431766666868noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244117181765624524.post-36208271007492251262012-01-29T10:04:00.000-08:002012-01-29T10:04:13.659-08:00Motivated by Revenge and the Prospect of a Free Meal, Two Young Least Terns Bide Their Time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM6DNr9EeZnHbM23hskTOPN2lLgpR4r-EmT1WPQEd6sExt7FHxt0Jgse7yIyavgaMf16-c7UYB9ZfORBBEFfFt_FALWzjHXYIxByCVnEzx9Zsw3zCRxiZPTZEXnbGdDvcRcR5Qkj-19DfY/s1600/Least+Terns+Bide+Their+Time.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM6DNr9EeZnHbM23hskTOPN2lLgpR4r-EmT1WPQEd6sExt7FHxt0Jgse7yIyavgaMf16-c7UYB9ZfORBBEFfFt_FALWzjHXYIxByCVnEzx9Zsw3zCRxiZPTZEXnbGdDvcRcR5Qkj-19DfY/s640/Least+Terns+Bide+Their+Time.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05205890431766666868noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244117181765624524.post-75703447830515996512012-01-27T20:22:00.000-08:002012-01-28T09:37:31.614-08:00That Lil' Miss Flossie Mae never been in a kitchen let alone learned how to use one<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgkXCiSHMoHj9nRJ-CBn5EnpC_jQ0TXDiCqxXReoCLGI8fQpbsxTJMZ5RzBnoDHTxGBn2Zun-NeBs9iwKGLBXZDo8ArR7tXLeFFd85YPHdYmdLIkz0865htDVFGBoxUez7_qMc94HYoTS7/s1600/Carry-Out+Again,+Miss+Flossie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgkXCiSHMoHj9nRJ-CBn5EnpC_jQ0TXDiCqxXReoCLGI8fQpbsxTJMZ5RzBnoDHTxGBn2Zun-NeBs9iwKGLBXZDo8ArR7tXLeFFd85YPHdYmdLIkz0865htDVFGBoxUez7_qMc94HYoTS7/s640/Carry-Out+Again,+Miss+Flossie.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05205890431766666868noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244117181765624524.post-16045882710952544892012-01-26T17:02:00.000-08:002012-01-26T17:02:21.145-08:00Phototoons: In Richmond, Mo., parking lot art making a comeback, providing insights into the local culture<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTh7RusW04QK2a_h1r6uvIkSdq4mtvXvgJwBfD5q1HUtKy1fU26GuBFmMfpSEEf05sahaBdb4lP1M6HbuYOkO0WqLto8FfTF6FWhOdb3iAo6e8CzLWSE9pG7AplGeldEkH-EYcQ4Q4SnrH/s1600/The+Sub-Boonies_Random+Sample+new.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTh7RusW04QK2a_h1r6uvIkSdq4mtvXvgJwBfD5q1HUtKy1fU26GuBFmMfpSEEf05sahaBdb4lP1M6HbuYOkO0WqLto8FfTF6FWhOdb3iAo6e8CzLWSE9pG7AplGeldEkH-EYcQ4Q4SnrH/s640/The+Sub-Boonies_Random+Sample+new.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05205890431766666868noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244117181765624524.post-64582228521489630712012-01-22T08:00:00.000-08:002012-01-22T08:03:47.140-08:00Phototoons, or how Demolition Derby at the Ray County Fair pounded its way into the national debate over the 99 percent vs. the 1 percent<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGEv6lAlq-0BMfdZ6dwHs-GHGxkuwExpTw96lL79ucilHF5u4RY6clzh7I5Ebgwt1tH14Z39aZQakzAoAErPUC4PRgHxXHMPdEvsBv78G-3xFrN1SnbtTgypY_KVT0mpGNKTsJlgJhlWop/s1600/The+Sub-Boonies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGEv6lAlq-0BMfdZ6dwHs-GHGxkuwExpTw96lL79ucilHF5u4RY6clzh7I5Ebgwt1tH14Z39aZQakzAoAErPUC4PRgHxXHMPdEvsBv78G-3xFrN1SnbtTgypY_KVT0mpGNKTsJlgJhlWop/s640/The+Sub-Boonies.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I can't draw a lick, but have always wished I could've been a cartoonist. In fact, I have an envelope of cartoon punch lines stored away somewhere waiting for the illustration fairy to show up at my door. I'm hoping I'm onto something here ... using my photos as a way to express some of my more picturesque ideas. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The Sub-Boonies, the working title for these phototoons, is a reference to places I go to get away from civilization -- the sub-boonies are to the boonies as the suburbs are to cities. No disrespect is intended, but if Richmond, Mo., population 5,900 or so, could be considered the boonies, a five- or 10-minute drive in any direction takes me to the sub-boonies and natural bliss. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Let me know if you like the idea of phototoons. I may do some more. There's that one about a dusty cowboy who comes into town looking for that hombre Jack Shit. An old-timer tells him he knows a Johny Shit who lives up the ways a piece and then there's old Eustis Shit used to live out by the fork in the road ... "But I don't know nothin' about no Jack Shit," he says.</span>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05205890431766666868noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244117181765624524.post-92097019678856637462012-01-17T16:29:00.000-08:002012-01-17T18:41:58.906-08:00Words Say the Darndest Things: Roy and Dale Waiting to Pull the Trigger<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUOOzw7aC09qJak-iWxfkTPvAFVArzz4ULXknU-rT8xsz_eiLsblcs5uO6OBIgzqaRj3IzFQklNT7wxfoJrQ7tWOBcObE4osNs3HNftcMFLB8JnM2IGRRpqaZAQ-oS447u9FUEzbydfgJA/s1600/2012_0114Rayvil0020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUOOzw7aC09qJak-iWxfkTPvAFVArzz4ULXknU-rT8xsz_eiLsblcs5uO6OBIgzqaRj3IzFQklNT7wxfoJrQ7tWOBcObE4osNs3HNftcMFLB8JnM2IGRRpqaZAQ-oS447u9FUEzbydfgJA/s640/2012_0114Rayvil0020.JPG" width="449" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Roy and Dale suddenly found themselves fenced in and left out in the rain to rust, with nothing but each other and some hackneyed rope tricks.</span></span></b><br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Click below why don't ya </span></span></b></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WLoYFvbR0XY">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WLoYFvbR0XY</a></span></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05205890431766666868noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244117181765624524.post-78577161700160044512012-01-07T17:42:00.000-08:002012-01-07T19:27:54.452-08:00The Wonder Boy and his Dear Dad watch Clint Dempsey score against Chelsea and enjoy a warm beverage at a cheeky coffee shop in the Tower Grove section of St. Louis<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfgsgHP3WZOmQFhPQhpEC_tDo15JFeH_cvmI8s2fGFh4lmkx7KAHpyGIFzsO7iP6yDGYCoQ6S-Y4B74gEB_KNciqwu4QtaGa_7biV6gDwi0XnRzP11ZBMDqAcaM88pZ9SfswXMYu_Av-79/s1600/2011_1226st0005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfgsgHP3WZOmQFhPQhpEC_tDo15JFeH_cvmI8s2fGFh4lmkx7KAHpyGIFzsO7iP6yDGYCoQ6S-Y4B74gEB_KNciqwu4QtaGa_7biV6gDwi0XnRzP11ZBMDqAcaM88pZ9SfswXMYu_Av-79/s400/2011_1226st0005.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">We drove to St. Louis Christmas week to meet Isaac's sister Sarah, who came up from Nashville with her boyfriend Matt with their lovable canines, Charlie and Frankie (both Richmond, Mo. alums). While we were there we had refillable soft drinks at Amsterdam Tavern in the Tower Grove section. It's a soccer bar and we got to watch my beloved Fulham tie Chelsea 1-1 on a goal by American Clint Dempsey. While we were there, I imposed on Isaac to have his picture taken with my Sporting KC stocking cap. Oddly enough, the cap was embroidered north of Rayville.</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnDv6XLsCbJZRZSRZnnQBDhbRcDBIHerLcDsa13fCpoUEPBRDi2-YSlOikZkDIbWmDcdj8ZjA8gtaD-lg6GGLEP9Lu9Gid5xOxnW1QHZMYcJ3oDpR9v_LjRAA7N79u5m89sqaxSUnA3GC9/s1600/2011_1226st0011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnDv6XLsCbJZRZSRZnnQBDhbRcDBIHerLcDsa13fCpoUEPBRDi2-YSlOikZkDIbWmDcdj8ZjA8gtaD-lg6GGLEP9Lu9Gid5xOxnW1QHZMYcJ3oDpR9v_LjRAA7N79u5m89sqaxSUnA3GC9/s320/2011_1226st0011.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">When we left the bar, we spotted this cat spotting us. It ended in a spot-down.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF5NgBDBc2ONmGTNnV4MXpb5mRP9XbXWqipM1rvGELp_WmGjCVAmtO5rdFw_cQqQwSU9E4mtM-DbJ_H1oiMvMluRAqs7wyiPcFITc-gEvJGNOP-mo_kYEA5dRl5ZKIPCk3OgcWpKqPzHuS/s1600/2011_1226st0007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF5NgBDBc2ONmGTNnV4MXpb5mRP9XbXWqipM1rvGELp_WmGjCVAmtO5rdFw_cQqQwSU9E4mtM-DbJ_H1oiMvMluRAqs7wyiPcFITc-gEvJGNOP-mo_kYEA5dRl5ZKIPCk3OgcWpKqPzHuS/s640/2011_1226st0007.JPG" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">But not before Isaac reciprocated with a photo of the man with the tweedy pub hat. Very football-like, indeed, ain't it mate?</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLi4DJv3-gApR1CHHfPx_yv34y7fBmQ_pAm5i5c6pEB5P45xiRpsc82wV9Nc0aoqKc9cx_VUh0DkL_tFOMdkHYw0BwYFir7ZIDxgd7Y7tD-if2j1sThigxU-c1CYS7BOHZ1TrUL8Xz5N6D/s1600/2011_1226st0009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLi4DJv3-gApR1CHHfPx_yv34y7fBmQ_pAm5i5c6pEB5P45xiRpsc82wV9Nc0aoqKc9cx_VUh0DkL_tFOMdkHYw0BwYFir7ZIDxgd7Y7tD-if2j1sThigxU-c1CYS7BOHZ1TrUL8Xz5N6D/s320/2011_1226st0009.JPG" width="240" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Working in rural America and living in a rather conservative suburb, I sometimes forget there are other points of view. We saw this photo of President Obama with the flag, and you know what, it felt good to see that someone still likes him. </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggLnvNidKmaz35YJ0uStt5g1JUfqcaQbKQmUkFb_j2SG87TpORuxiurLx69xWvw5JvlZqg40fNXBU405KgcTbiCg1Vh5qm3Yu1oT9uqm9c-H1Uud1EIR9Jod2yoSworJCgfBgr5lalDR1y/s1600/2011_1226st0017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggLnvNidKmaz35YJ0uStt5g1JUfqcaQbKQmUkFb_j2SG87TpORuxiurLx69xWvw5JvlZqg40fNXBU405KgcTbiCg1Vh5qm3Yu1oT9uqm9c-H1Uud1EIR9Jod2yoSworJCgfBgr5lalDR1y/s320/2011_1226st0017.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">We walked at least a mile from the soccer bar to this coffee shop while the "women folks" continued their shopping-mall adventure. I had a delicious frothy cappuccino (and later a cup of vegetarian vegetable soup), while Isaac went with the hot chocolate and fried potatoes. At least we could tell his mother he had a vegetable. The bumper stickers and decals behind the counter were hilarious, also expressing a more liberal urban slant than I typically encounter in the country. I suppose my favorite sentiment was "Don't pray in my school and I won't think in your church". Snap! Political preferences aside, we can all relate this one: "My country invaded Iraq and all I got was this expensive gas." Fortunately, neither Isaac nor I got gas from our little Boys Bonding outing.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBSMGceVPfCT5uuTgiupgCzc3b7vZRWPQc5APcWWoc8Sg_jAqEaskVZU8-HVp6PycqCBpufdAtMKK4DTzYfKCL4RvDurMlL0xX7Do7BixOikzcmrDgH1FzWGyVLXXGPmoWh5HUVRa7HtF1/s640/2011_1226st0024.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="480" /></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Let's just say Isaac indulged my proclivity for snapping photos everywhere, in public or not. Hey, I'm a photographer, right? I think I'm invisible. He knows I'm not, at least not yet.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-size: small;"><br style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;" /></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7yrDy0396s-Wui6-h38mTpF8p38UBpbKKWf9dQahl_JjJsQqH88vfWrbUTNoDdvE7l5B9ojZvj2K2Vjg1kOj8-u05pjBgoPqnsl74iKkUis88zPU7PW89ktEYmtklUiub-B6YjOEKcLkj/s1600/2011_1226st0014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7yrDy0396s-Wui6-h38mTpF8p38UBpbKKWf9dQahl_JjJsQqH88vfWrbUTNoDdvE7l5B9ojZvj2K2Vjg1kOj8-u05pjBgoPqnsl74iKkUis88zPU7PW89ktEYmtklUiub-B6YjOEKcLkj/s320/2011_1226st0014.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">You gotta hand it to the lad, he's a funny one. He'd have to be, though, wouldn't he?</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ7A0EC2AVyuEN9PRLurdfluAaoyti3T0bFPq3cyzQELVn_19y3lf6fJKgC_cs8DOvCetYIZAGMu5xhQoZcBtIoT9zlVGTrCLuLvGSKy8a8vStXNny6awRmKAi3K2KM4tG4vkI6Gigl_7-/s1600/2011_1226st0008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ7A0EC2AVyuEN9PRLurdfluAaoyti3T0bFPq3cyzQELVn_19y3lf6fJKgC_cs8DOvCetYIZAGMu5xhQoZcBtIoT9zlVGTrCLuLvGSKy8a8vStXNny6awRmKAi3K2KM4tG4vkI6Gigl_7-/s320/2011_1226st0008.JPG" width="264" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">I snapped a photo of this bar because of the name, Stella Blues. I own a Stella guitar, a parlor-size guitar that's often used to play the blues. I assume, but don't know, it's why the bar was named as it was. I can only imagine how crooked that sign post must look when people stagger out at 2 a.m. Sleep tight, muchachos and muchachas, and don't let the bed boogs bite.</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05205890431766666868noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244117181765624524.post-76646483971349576822012-01-06T19:18:00.000-08:002012-01-06T19:21:56.699-08:00Pigeons on the Square: They survive, rule the roost and get in some people watching<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1SqUOrpDexKstPa9BtTvLyXViz2UyUsptsVsePJ-pTkEfnARa3mWZZ_h9KTWgbB2iUhXiNnIASlKbbgwDMheJ7X0Ua_-IUzcBNZFttOPigz3lLreyqXkRirnQEIKqFcUQ66yWzrFN-Aho/s1600/Pigeon+People+Watching.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1SqUOrpDexKstPa9BtTvLyXViz2UyUsptsVsePJ-pTkEfnARa3mWZZ_h9KTWgbB2iUhXiNnIASlKbbgwDMheJ7X0Ua_-IUzcBNZFttOPigz3lLreyqXkRirnQEIKqFcUQ66yWzrFN-Aho/s640/Pigeon+People+Watching.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-size: large;"> You may remember a post a while back about the city of Richmond putting an end to a New Year's Day pigeon-shooting tradition on the square. That was back in the day, the day when newspapers didn't have color photos. That was quite a while ago in pigeon or human time.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-size: large;"> But frankly, it didn't take a municipal ordinance (or enforcement of the existing one against shooting guns in the city) to ensure the survival of these plump lid'l pluckers.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-size: large;"> They were deemed a nuisance back then, but when it comes to minor annoyances maybe acceptance is the golden road to happiness. The pigeons weren't going anywhere no matter what we humans tried, and this puffy fellow and his comrades are about the only residents left on the square, human, commercial or otherwise.</span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> I saw this one sticking his head in and out of a broken window pane in the old bank building on the corner of Main and Thornton. He'd pop out, I'd take a picture, and then he'd duck back in.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> He could've been a she; maybe there was a nest inside. I have no idea what the nesting/hatching arrangements are in the pigeon world, and for all I know it's the male who sits on the eggs. Or maybe there were other shenanigans going on inside. I could've sworn I saw feathers flying.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> Whatever the case, this pidge seemed to like watching the traffic and other happenings around the square. Maybe he wanted to make sure he didn't miss the next parade or veterans' program; or maybe he was keeping tabs on other members of Richmond's survivalist pigeon community. Whatever the case, I was rewarded with a photo for being patient. So hang in there big fellow. Mushroom Festival's just five months away.</span></span>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05205890431766666868noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244117181765624524.post-89261620267034299212011-12-31T10:18:00.000-08:002011-12-31T10:18:58.569-08:00My ship came in, but it was smaller, significantly smaller, than even a toy kayak<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; height: 1px; overflow: hidden; width: 1px;">I’m prone to believe notes left on my desk. Especially ones that say, “Your ship has come in!”That my wife would’ve written such a note on the back of a business envelope (the size for a check) and used an exclamation point only inflated my expectations. She’s not the kind to use exclamation points frivolously or type OMG! after every Facebook post she reads. Since I’ve never bought a lottery ticket or believed in ghosts, even a flicker of belief on my part was extraordinary. But if the fairy godmother wants to knock on your door, who says, “Don’t come in”? I’m within crawling distance of retirement — crawling is all I can manage at this point — so any accelerant to hurry it along is welcome. As they say, if you’ve got a ship coming in, I’ve got the port.The timing and wording of the note were all the more reason to believe. I’d been pelting the family with my latest wild-eyed dream: buying a kayak so I can explore the lakes and streams of Ray County. Let’s just say my family’s not supportive of my Lewis and Clark urges; or maybe it’s the vision of my un-limber self trying to squeeze into a kayak and then needing 911.In my metaphorical mind, you can see how simple it would be to transition from the note to a vision of a windfall, say a few hundred dollars, for a kayak. The note also coincided with news — reported on the front page of this newspaper — that a Missouri woman recently had received an unclaimed property payment from the state for $6 million. I could presumably also be taken by surprise, correct? And I wouldn’t need anywhere near $6 million to go OMG!Two seconds after seeing the note, I looked inside the envelope. The word play and metaphorical fun would come later.The check, drawn on JPMorgan Chase Bank, was from the administrator of the Brice Yingling d/b/a Alamo Auto Sports and Andy Scott vs. eBay Inc. settlement fund. I didn’t know Brice or Andy from Adam, but I’d traded on eBay, so they obviously had the right person. And in my mind, the name J.P. Morgan was synonymous with old money, and plenty of it.When people refer to significant amounts of money, they tend to use the term “figures” — as in “a salary in the high six figures.” I’ve never indulged in that kind of braggadocio, mainly because no one crows about his salary “being in the low five figures.”And the check from Mr. Morgan was in the “three figures,” indeed the very low three figures. The person who signed the check must’ve thought, “three cents, this isn’t worth the paper it’s written on”! Nor was it worth the cost of a stamp. But three cents, the potential for laughter … priceless.The check meant my ship wouldn’t be big enough to float in the sink, let alone a lake or stream. So I’m still waiting for mine to come in. Until then, I won’t believe anything my wife says. David Knopf is a Northlander who earns his “low five figures” with honest labor at the Richmond News, where he is news editor. He also publishes the blog themagiccommute.blogspot.com and can be notified of ship sightings at dknopf@kc.rr.com.<br />
<br />
Read more here: http://www.kansascity.com/2011/12/27/3340159/david-knopf-if-i-had-a-nickel.html#storylink=misearch#storylink=cpy</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; height: 1px; overflow: hidden; width: 1px;">I’m prone to believe notes left on my desk. Especially ones that say, “Your ship has come in!”That my wife would’ve written such a note on the back of a business envelope (the size for a check) and used an exclamation point only inflated my expectations. She’s not the kind to use exclamation points frivolously or type OMG! after every Facebook post she reads. Since I’ve never bought a lottery ticket or believed in ghosts, even a flicker of belief on my part was extraordinary. But if the fairy godmother wants to knock on your door, who says, “Don’t come in”? I’m within crawling distance of retirement — crawling is all I can manage at this point — so any accelerant to hurry it along is welcome. As they say, if you’ve got a ship coming in, I’ve got the port.The timing and wording of the note were all the more reason to believe. I’d been pelting the family with my latest wild-eyed dream: buying a kayak so I can explore the lakes and streams of Ray County. Let’s just say my family’s not supportive of my Lewis and Clark urges; or maybe it’s the vision of my un-limber self trying to squeeze into a kayak and then needing 911.In my metaphorical mind, you can see how simple it would be to transition from the note to a vision of a windfall, say a few hundred dollars, for a kayak. The note also coincided with news — reported on the front page of this newspaper — that a Missouri woman recently had received an unclaimed property payment from the state for $6 million. I could presumably also be taken by surprise, correct? And I wouldn’t need anywhere near $6 million to go OMG!Two seconds after seeing the note, I looked inside the envelope. The word play and metaphorical fun would come later.The check, drawn on JPMorgan Chase Bank, was from the administrator of the Brice Yingling d/b/a Alamo Auto Sports and Andy Scott vs. eBay Inc. settlement fund. I didn’t know Brice or Andy from Adam, but I’d traded on eBay, so they obviously had the right person. And in my mind, the name J.P. Morgan was synonymous with old money, and plenty of it.When people refer to significant amounts of money, they tend to use the term “figures” — as in “a salary in the high six figures.” I’ve never indulged in that kind of braggadocio, mainly because no one crows about his salary “being in the low five figures.”And the check from Mr. Morgan was in the “three figures,” indeed the very low three figures. The person who signed the check must’ve thought, “three cents, this isn’t worth the paper it’s written on”! Nor was it worth the cost of a stamp. But three cents, the potential for laughter … priceless.The check meant my ship wouldn’t be big enough to float in the sink, let alone a lake or stream. So I’m still waiting for mine to come in. Until then, I won’t believe anything my wife says. David Knopf is a Northlander who earns his “low five figures” with honest labor at the Richmond News, where he is news editor. He also publishes the blog themagiccommute.blogspot.com and can be notified of ship sightings at dknopf@kc.rr.com.<br />
<br />
Read more here: http://www.kansascity.com/2011/12/27/3340159/david-knopf-if-i-had-a-nickel.html#storylink=misearch#storylink=cpy</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; height: 1px; overflow: hidden; width: 1px;">I’m prone to believe notes left on my desk. Especially ones that say, “Your ship has come in!”That my wife would’ve written such a note on the back of a business envelope (the size for a check) and used an exclamation point only inflated my expectations. She’s not the kind to use exclamation points frivolously or type OMG! after every Facebook post she reads. Since I’ve never bought a lottery ticket or believed in ghosts, even a flicker of belief on my part was extraordinary. But if the fairy godmother wants to knock on your door, who says, “Don’t come in”? I’m within crawling distance of retirement — crawling is all I can manage at this point — so any accelerant to hurry it along is welcome. As they say, if you’ve got a ship coming in, I’ve got the port.The timing and wording of the note were all the more reason to believe. I’d been pelting the family with my latest wild-eyed dream: buying a kayak so I can explore the lakes and streams of Ray County. Let’s just say my family’s not supportive of my Lewis and Clark urges; or maybe it’s the vision of my un-limber self trying to squeeze into a kayak and then needing 911.In my metaphorical mind, you can see how simple it would be to transition from the note to a vision of a windfall, say a few hundred dollars, for a kayak. The note also coincided with news — reported on the front page of this newspaper — that a Missouri woman recently had received an unclaimed property payment from the state for $6 million. I could presumably also be taken by surprise, correct? And I wouldn’t need anywhere near $6 million to go OMG!Two seconds after seeing the note, I looked inside the envelope. The word play and metaphorical fun would come later.The check, drawn on JPMorgan Chase Bank, was from the administrator of the Brice Yingling d/b/a Alamo Auto Sports and Andy Scott vs. eBay Inc. settlement fund. I didn’t know Brice or Andy from Adam, but I’d traded on eBay, so they obviously had the right person. And in my mind, the name J.P. Morgan was synonymous with old money, and plenty of it.When people refer to significant amounts of money, they tend to use the term “figures” — as in “a salary in the high six figures.” I’ve never indulged in that kind of braggadocio, mainly because no one crows about his salary “being in the low five figures.”And the check from Mr. Morgan was in the “three figures,” indeed the very low three figures. The person who signed the check must’ve thought, “three cents, this isn’t worth the paper it’s written on”! Nor was it worth the cost of a stamp. But three cents, the potential for laughter … priceless.The check meant my ship wouldn’t be big enough to float in the sink, let alone a lake or stream. So I’m still waiting for mine to come in. Until then, I won’t believe anything my wife says. David Knopf is a Northlander who earns his “low five figures” with honest labor at the Richmond News, where he is news editor. He also publishes the blog themagiccommute.blogspot.com and can be notified of ship sightings at dknopf@kc.rr.com.<br />
<br />
Read more here: http://www.kansascity.com/2011/12/27/3340159/david-knopf-if-i-had-a-nickel.html#storylink=misearch#storylink=cpy</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; height: 1px; overflow: hidden; width: 1px;">I’m prone to believe notes left on my desk. Especially ones that say, “Your ship has come in!”That my wife would’ve written such a note on the back of a business envelope (the size for a check) and used an exclamation point only inflated my expectations. She’s not the kind to use exclamation points frivolously or type OMG! after every Facebook post she reads. Since I’ve never bought a lottery ticket or believed in ghosts, even a flicker of belief on my part was extraordinary. But if the fairy godmother wants to knock on your door, who says, “Don’t come in”? I’m within crawling distance of retirement — crawling is all I can manage at this point — so any accelerant to hurry it along is welcome. As they say, if you’ve got a ship coming in, I’ve got the port.The timing and wording of the note were all the more reason to believe. I’d been pelting the family with my latest wild-eyed dream: buying a kayak so I can explore the lakes and streams of Ray County. Let’s just say my family’s not supportive of my Lewis and Clark urges; or maybe it’s the vision of my un-limber self trying to squeeze into a kayak and then needing 911.In my metaphorical mind, you can see how simple it would be to transition from the note to a vision of a windfall, say a few hundred dollars, for a kayak. The note also coincided with news — reported on the front page of this newspaper — that a Missouri woman recently had received an unclaimed property payment from the state for $6 million. I could presumably also be taken by surprise, correct? And I wouldn’t need anywhere near $6 million to go OMG!Two seconds after seeing the note, I looked inside the envelope. The word play and metaphorical fun would come later.The check, drawn on JPMorgan Chase Bank, was from the administrator of the Brice Yingling d/b/a Alamo Auto Sports and Andy Scott vs. eBay Inc. settlement fund. I didn’t know Brice or Andy from Adam, but I’d traded on eBay, so they obviously had the right person. And in my mind, the name J.P. Morgan was synonymous with old money, and plenty of it.When people refer to significant amounts of money, they tend to use the term “figures” — as in “a salary in the high six figures.” I’ve never indulged in that kind of braggadocio, mainly because no one crows about his salary “being in the low five figures.”And the check from Mr. Morgan was in the “three figures,” indeed the very low three figures. The person who signed the check must’ve thought, “three cents, this isn’t worth the paper it’s written on”! Nor was it worth the cost of a stamp. But three cents, the potential for laughter … priceless.The check meant my ship wouldn’t be big enough to float in the sink, let alone a lake or stream. So I’m still waiting for mine to come in. Until then, I won’t believe anything my wife says. David Knopf is a Northlander who earns his “low five figures” with honest labor at the Richmond News, where he is news editor. He also publishes the blog themagiccommute.blogspot.com and can be notified of ship sightings at dknopf@kc.rr.com.<br />
<br />
Read more here: http://www.kansascity.com/2011/12/27/3340159/david-knopf-if-i-had-a-nickel.html#storylink=misearch#storylink=cpy</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; height: 1px; overflow: hidden; width: 1px;">I’m prone to believe notes left on my desk. Especially ones that say, “Your ship has come in!”That my wife would’ve written such a note on the back of a business envelope (the size for a check) and used an exclamation point only inflated my expectations. She’s not the kind to use exclamation points frivolously or type OMG! after every Facebook post she reads. Since I’ve never bought a lottery ticket or believed in ghosts, even a flicker of belief on my part was extraordinary. But if the fairy godmother wants to knock on your door, who says, “Don’t come in”? I’m within crawling distance of retirement — crawling is all I can manage at this point — so any accelerant to hurry it along is welcome. As they say, if you’ve got a ship coming in, I’ve got the port.The timing and wording of the note were all the more reason to believe. I’d been pelting the family with my latest wild-eyed dream: buying a kayak so I can explore the lakes and streams of Ray County. Let’s just say my family’s not supportive of my Lewis and Clark urges; or maybe it’s the vision of my un-limber self trying to squeeze into a kayak and then needing 911.In my metaphorical mind, you can see how simple it would be to transition from the note to a vision of a windfall, say a few hundred dollars, for a kayak. The note also coincided with news — reported on the front page of this newspaper — that a Missouri woman recently had received an unclaimed property payment from the state for $6 million. I could presumably also be taken by surprise, correct? And I wouldn’t need anywhere near $6 million to go OMG!Two seconds after seeing the note, I looked inside the envelope. The word play and metaphorical fun would come later.The check, drawn on JPMorgan Chase Bank, was from the administrator of the Brice Yingling d/b/a Alamo Auto Sports and Andy Scott vs. eBay Inc. settlement fund. I didn’t know Brice or Andy from Adam, but I’d traded on eBay, so they obviously had the right person. And in my mind, the name J.P. Morgan was synonymous with old money, and plenty of it.When people refer to significant amounts of money, they tend to use the term “figures” — as in “a salary in the high six figures.” I’ve never indulged in that kind of braggadocio, mainly because no one crows about his salary “being in the low five figures.”And the check from Mr. Morgan was in the “three figures,” indeed the very low three figures. The person who signed the check must’ve thought, “three cents, this isn’t worth the paper it’s written on”! Nor was it worth the cost of a stamp. But three cents, the potential for laughter … priceless.The check meant my ship wouldn’t be big enough to float in the sink, let alone a lake or stream. So I’m still waiting for mine to come in. Until then, I won’t believe anything my wife says. David Knopf is a Northlander who earns his “low five figures” with honest labor at the Richmond News, where he is news editor. He also publishes the blog themagiccommute.blogspot.com and can be notified of ship sightings at dknopf@kc.rr.com.<br />
<br />
Read more here: http://www.kansascity.com/2011/12/27/3340159/david-knopf-if-i-had-a-nickel.html#storylink=misearch#storylink=cpy</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="267"> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/> <w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:10.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";}
</style> <![endif]--> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"> <i style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> This column, published Dec. 28 in The Kansas City Star Northland News,is reproduced here with permission of the newspaper. It's linked below.</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj05PaPuUNGD8kehDOnOVMoXp1aaBe3Az7dbrWeUDztcScWRe0mhYSuE9-2206Z6iaF6lU2pI-35YDotaefNKInbuj0QVB9gPUBudpnaB2MFps-XlAyRdr1VwVJRZSxzlqjWydQcSfxVSki/s1600/ship.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj05PaPuUNGD8kehDOnOVMoXp1aaBe3Az7dbrWeUDztcScWRe0mhYSuE9-2206Z6iaF6lU2pI-35YDotaefNKInbuj0QVB9gPUBudpnaB2MFps-XlAyRdr1VwVJRZSxzlqjWydQcSfxVSki/s400/ship.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I imagined far less than a ship filled with riches.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> <span style="font-size: large;"><b>I</b></span>’m prone to believe notes left on my desk. Especially ones that say, “Your ship has come in!”</span></div><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> </span><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"> That my wife would’ve written such a note on the back of a business envelope (the size for a check) and used an exclamation point only inflated my expectations. She’s not the kind to use exclamation points frivolously or type <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">OM</i>G! after every Facebook post she reads. </span></div><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> </span><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"> Since I’ve never bought a lottery ticket or believed in ghosts, even a flicker of belief on my part was extraordinary. But if the fairy godmother wants to knock on your door, who says, “Don’t come in”? </span></div><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> </span><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">I’m within crawling distance of retirement – crawling is all I can manage at this point – so any accelerant to hurry it along is welcome. As they say, if you’ve got a ship coming in, I’ve got the port.</span></div><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> </span><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6rf0sxUegQ3K9vI_1xFrg-zYDe5_s7c4hd_1vpxFfP3JIKA9tWDr2_qA1LEzlW-jFH5cUMRmzdowDRJ8wLWpGdw3fSckvrierZyfcf_YjLdIsr9roO_oqnI4DdeJm0WrTsg6yLXtZuhgQ/s1600/dollar+signs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"> The timing and wording of the note were all the more reason to believe. I’d been pelting the family with my latest wild-eyed dream: buying a kayak so I can explore the lakes and streams of Ray County. Let’s just say my family’s not supportive of my Lewis and Clark urges; or maybe it’s the vision of my un-limber self trying to squeeze into a kayak and then needing 911.</span></div><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> </span><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"> In my metaphorical mind, you can see how simple it would be to transition from the note to a vision of a windfall, say a few hundred dollars, for a kayak. </span></div><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> </span><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"> The note also coincided with news – reported on the front page of this newspaper – that a Missouri woman recently had received an unclaimed property refund from the state for $6 million. I could presumably also be taken by surprise, correct? And I wouldn’t need anywhere near $6 million to go, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">OMG</i>!</span></div><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> </span><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjknSiKz0W-RtLFnzgIvx-QYBkuSx3MNgqgiq_sCR5qB0QuJSyBc1qa_Nnoibah3BFQsOlvE0HRgc9nP5sXTsWPmszEPFh7BjmhpQDugFwpVrSe9LeAT0ri4yuD_R_618xzH7rxT34m8lN4/s1600/ar132355136205285.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjknSiKz0W-RtLFnzgIvx-QYBkuSx3MNgqgiq_sCR5qB0QuJSyBc1qa_Nnoibah3BFQsOlvE0HRgc9nP5sXTsWPmszEPFh7BjmhpQDugFwpVrSe9LeAT0ri4yuD_R_618xzH7rxT34m8lN4/s400/ar132355136205285.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An Arkansas woman also found the check blogworthy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two seconds after seeing the note I looked inside the envelope. The word play and metaphorical fun would come later.</span></div><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> </span><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"> The check, drawn on JP Morgan Chase Bank, was from the administrator of the Brice Yingling d/b/a Alamo Auto Sports and Andy Scott vs. eBay, Inc. settlement fund. I didn’t know Brice or Andy from Adam, but I’d traded on eBay, so they obviously had the right person. And in my mind, the name J.P. Morgan was synonymous with old money, and plenty of it.</span></div><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> </span><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"> When people refer to significant amounts of money, they tend to use the term “figures” – as in “a salary in the high six figures”. I’ve never indulged in that kind of braggadocio, mainly because no one crows about his salary “being in the low five figures”.</span></div><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> </span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEgDd3RlcE16Rj_eMhEyRgDFUKl6uroq1pfk9tLh8oK_R6wrCYYBTu9NUyXTz0GM4tT25lVkgDkIx0jHp2jtUHJ6VoIGZ-Q6rEn4kf0jFtw7abCF3Hoqbr8yGOf5EUlujhiAcCEPWzEHGu/s1600/kayak+with+vw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEgDd3RlcE16Rj_eMhEyRgDFUKl6uroq1pfk9tLh8oK_R6wrCYYBTu9NUyXTz0GM4tT25lVkgDkIx0jHp2jtUHJ6VoIGZ-Q6rEn4kf0jFtw7abCF3Hoqbr8yGOf5EUlujhiAcCEPWzEHGu/s400/kayak+with+vw.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The check was even too small for a toy kayak</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the check from Mr. Morgan was in the “three figures,” indeed the very low three figures. </span></div><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> </span><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"> The person who signed the check must’ve thought, “three cents, this isn’t worth the paper it’s written on”! Nor was it worth the cost of a stamp. But three cents, the potential for laughter … priceless.</span></div><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> </span><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"> The check meant my ship wouldn’t be big enough to float in the sink, let alone a lake or stream. So I’m still waiting for mine to come in. Until then, I won’t believe anything my wife says.</span></div><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> </span><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><i><span style="line-height: 115%;">David Knopf is a Northlander who earns his “low five figures” with honest labor at the Richmond News, where he is news editor. He also publishes the blog <a href="http://www.themagiccommute.blogspot.com/">www.themagiccommute.blogspot.com</a> and can be notified of ship sightings at dknopf@kc.rr.com.</span></i></div><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> </span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7SmYYn0AxtooGDXi3Xl5nAqCehv1r-Ff6hqMylIxAIzSF5f_WKSp6wG4fyqULz6DK50MISOtMgsoDQaI9o4Yr_n4CWmPryaqlD4vxkr7UxeRvTtdsQX8JXDjRIN3c-GSDGLo0DbLQPeX-/s1600/ship.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> </span><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.kansascity.com/2011/12/27/3340159/david-knopf-if-i-had-a-nickel.html#storylink=misearch" style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">http://www.kansascity.com/2011/12/27/3340159/david-knopf-if-i-had-a-nickel.html#storylink=misearch</a></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05205890431766666868noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244117181765624524.post-63245845366910227172011-12-14T07:49:00.000-08:002011-12-14T07:49:05.882-08:00Have CDs, will travel; you'll find Muddy Waters under 'M'.<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">In addition to working at the <i>Richmond News</i>, I write a twice-a-month column for <i>The Kansas City Star's Northland Neighborhood News</i> section. I don't always write the columns at night -- in fact, rarely if ever -- so technically it isn't moonlighting. Both publications know what I'm doing, so there's no sneakin' around, and The Star has permitted me to post the columns here once they're printed in the paper. So for those of you who don't see <i>The Star</i>, here's a column on my most recent attempt to get organized, or at least give that appearance.</div><br />
<style>
@font-face {
font-family: "Calibri";
}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 10pt; line-height: 115%; font-size: 11pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }a:link, span.MsoHyperlink { color: blue; text-decoration: underline; }a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed { color: purple; text-decoration: underline; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }
</style> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">(Dec. 14, <i>The Kansas City Star</i>) You can learn all you need about me by looking at my CDs. Not that I’d recommend that to anyone with a hint of sanity.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">I recently sorted them, creating categories and discarding duplicates. I actually had four copies of one, a Byrds compilation. Why, I don’t know, but I kept two of the four just to be safe.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">I’ve always wanted to be more organized, but I’m my own worst enemy. I’m constantly moving forward, discovering new things and changing direction, musically and otherwise, and as new ground’s broken I refuse to discard the old. As one of my forebears might say, I schlep it all with me. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">The result is that I collect music, first cassettes, then CDs, the way honey collects lint. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Until last week, the CDs had been in cardboard boxes, a backpack and two CD books in the basement, collecting dust and cat hair. I brought them upstairs, and while the rest of the family was out being human I was sitting on the living room floor intensely cutting out cardboard dividers and marking them “Alt Country,” “Blues Anthologies,” <span> </span>“Lesser-Known Locals” etc.</span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVCEMaW7GU9mDO4OeIWWextM6K-dTfh3lAdRpGkVUWZowLLHA6CvshMtW7mZmt5cWFcYK7e-jAD4DM7vY0aRQH9vsSoZGRe3JlRF1J0bZYDtd5YdRAD4FJPlEsuMkBjmDdMeHJg_xdrEF9/s1600/111215+CDs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVCEMaW7GU9mDO4OeIWWextM6K-dTfh3lAdRpGkVUWZowLLHA6CvshMtW7mZmt5cWFcYK7e-jAD4DM7vY0aRQH9vsSoZGRe3JlRF1J0bZYDtd5YdRAD4FJPlEsuMkBjmDdMeHJg_xdrEF9/s400/111215+CDs.jpg" width="353" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's not the Library of Congress, but it's a start. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">I put my own songs in a special, unlabeled category I could’ve named “Completely Unknown Local”.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">My wife’s a librarian, and before she left I asked her if there was an organizational method she’d recommend. “Anything that works for you,” she said.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">I’m not a Dewey Decimal guy, so I asked myself, “How would you try to find, say, Muddy Waters?” A conventional approach would be to use the first letter of his last name, an old standby, where Muddy becomes “Waters, Muddy”. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">I just couldn’t do that, one, because I always refer to him as Muddy and, two, it seemed wrong to take a gritty blues singer and lay a Library of Congress defunking on him.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">So Muddy went to the M’s, just as Howlin’ Wolf went to the H’s. Blues icons slightly less known, say Willie Dixon, I put in the D’s. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Consistency has never been my strength, and two days from now I might’ve gone with last-name-first across the board. But it wouldn’t matter because when I take a CD out in the car (the categorized cardboard boxes are in the trunk), there’s no telling where I’ll put it when I’m done.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">My son recently bought a 23<sup>rd</sup>-generation iPod, which, in addition to storing the entire Recorded Works of Humankind, takes high-definition movies and photos, connects to the Internet, walks the dog and negotiates peace between the Israelis and Palestinians.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">If I had the patience for electronic gadgets, an iPod could solve some challenges. I’d be done with those plastic CD cases that break, the visor organizers that get full and stretch out, and those CD storage books that are dangerous to use while driving.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">But I’d still have me to deal with – the coffee I’d spill, the probability that I’d lose or drop the iPod, and, most glaringly, my oily skin. After a week or two, with all that sliding-your-finger-around-to-change-functions-thing, my iPod would look like the Prince William Sea once the Exxon Valdez finished with it.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">So I’m pretty much stuck with a cardboard box. And having chosen a system I’m comfortable with, I know I can find Muddy in the M’s. That is, until I file him in the W’s.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">If you'd like to comment, you can do it here or send an e-mail to me at dknopf@kc.rr.com.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05205890431766666868noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244117181765624524.post-64259308033047067992011-12-12T19:20:00.000-08:002011-12-12T19:20:15.290-08:00In Richmond, Mo., pigeons still rule the roost<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjADGEnb12thcRFGYNa-51Al7R4pvZV-crK50SBYGlGjUlCSdIZihsf1BLEqdc_tKpaDzFgs3U8tpr7I-9sjfHvgsCJ98h6itl4RT8buhY7LjzQxuQxeGp9ooFfAWKjvNs3Id4peAvvXKEb/s1600/_C127048+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjADGEnb12thcRFGYNa-51Al7R4pvZV-crK50SBYGlGjUlCSdIZihsf1BLEqdc_tKpaDzFgs3U8tpr7I-9sjfHvgsCJ98h6itl4RT8buhY7LjzQxuQxeGp9ooFfAWKjvNs3Id4peAvvXKEb/s640/_C127048+%25282%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh25VvWFroFMlbTiBS5SduV5UVgaEWDcX-GnucXLR0reoxX49LVVFO35gr51VuFLYiaYDNVTvwWA-1jbw-feRg655dOvnK_58biZ6sFQdiAjYFWNg7HV3RmQuwHdXpOHB1hl09EMsX9hnc4/s1600/_C127047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh25VvWFroFMlbTiBS5SduV5UVgaEWDcX-GnucXLR0reoxX49LVVFO35gr51VuFLYiaYDNVTvwWA-1jbw-feRg655dOvnK_58biZ6sFQdiAjYFWNg7HV3RmQuwHdXpOHB1hl09EMsX9hnc4/s400/_C127047.JPG" width="365" /></a></div><br />
<b style="color: #351c75;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Found this in a 1970 bound volume of the </span><i style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Richmond News</i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">. Pigeon shoots had been a tradition in Richmond until New Year's Day 1971, when the city began to enforce a law already on the books making it illegal to discharge firearms in the city limits. Police had been turning the other cheek as men and boys took New Year's Day pot shots at pigeons, who were considered a nuisance around the courthouse. Pigeons are still there, possibly still a nuisance for some. My take is that the pudgy little birds are survivors who prevailed, despite quite a quirky local tradition. Now if they'd just stand still so I can get some decent photos of them.</span></b>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05205890431766666868noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244117181765624524.post-26968599663329844892011-12-11T15:18:00.000-08:002011-12-11T15:30:05.246-08:00I don't know everything there is to know about sleeping. Thinking on my feet, sometimes I'm able. Sleeping on my feet? Another story completely.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvW4kOKlI2KjDpZgaAg0KQoTUMeL8RXv_zavUmhltczMF0XvBgFThu8jmWnAZ3iADoQEXwGZAUW8py68lj7Nqo6x6JuZ2TpouoYnGEXW561NlOiYnSBGusz3lnkyxacigq7iQsSXDvDHs3/s1600/2011_1210horsesetc0016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvW4kOKlI2KjDpZgaAg0KQoTUMeL8RXv_zavUmhltczMF0XvBgFThu8jmWnAZ3iADoQEXwGZAUW8py68lj7Nqo6x6JuZ2TpouoYnGEXW561NlOiYnSBGusz3lnkyxacigq7iQsSXDvDHs3/s640/2011_1210horsesetc0016.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I'm a good sleeper and proficient napper, but I have nothing on these boys cuttin' some ZZZs along Business 10 near Richmond. I can sleep in my car at lunch, nap three times a day on the weekend and fall asleep at night after sucking down more caffeine in a day than Dave Dudley*. But sleep on my feet? It might be something I could set as a long-term goal, just not in this lifetime. For one thing, if I fell asleep I'd probably have a sleep twitch, lose my balance and fall flat on my ashtabulah. Now leaning against a wall, that's something I might consider. (Dave Dudley had a big hit with the truck-driving song "Six Days on the Road".)</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05205890431766666868noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244117181765624524.post-77806670233131623652011-12-10T20:27:00.000-08:002011-12-11T05:34:47.190-08:00Highway H, where the food chain meets the pavement<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdvFAByX8sS4ZddENKJ6UrXwR27IGHmAYG36WyPpSwlghHlhrIsf7DqvvZCBZTf7P5mIUSBfmMG4Tl3gNDQfrnIS9LdbG7HQZgMtgzLFylw7sMBGVqzV1n_2Pc7Krtdl2UC3DfBLMkguui/s1600/2011_1209Mulies0008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="374" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdvFAByX8sS4ZddENKJ6UrXwR27IGHmAYG36WyPpSwlghHlhrIsf7DqvvZCBZTf7P5mIUSBfmMG4Tl3gNDQfrnIS9LdbG7HQZgMtgzLFylw7sMBGVqzV1n_2Pc7Krtdl2UC3DfBLMkguui/s640/2011_1209Mulies0008.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXGQcFtrpjpTBZ5pR3ejlMiv84GNlsePWApgkCv3juD6_m700mQIIaaIOpNCOHtGp_EVZP9Wzn8W-GSG-IDrMCW7AQlBWnqK06eVrIjffMAzESDXsZ5rqrhvFAMqdXf-Owvt6f_LFkASam/s1600/2011_1210horsesetc0020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXGQcFtrpjpTBZ5pR3ejlMiv84GNlsePWApgkCv3juD6_m700mQIIaaIOpNCOHtGp_EVZP9Wzn8W-GSG-IDrMCW7AQlBWnqK06eVrIjffMAzESDXsZ5rqrhvFAMqdXf-Owvt6f_LFkASam/s320/2011_1210horsesetc0020.JPG" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;" width="320" /></a></div><b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Been enjoying Highway H, aka Mo H, the last couple of days. Came across this crow snacking on some discarded Sonic yesterday and considered what the winged, blue-collar rank and file has to go through for a bite to eat. H isn't a busy road, but the hairpin turns mean drivers and scavengers alike have to be on their toes. From a crow's perspective, if Mo H were Less H -- as in less hoppin' and hopin' -- dinner time might be a little more relaxed.</span></b>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05205890431766666868noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244117181765624524.post-91017280141976115062011-12-09T19:43:00.000-08:002011-12-09T19:44:36.749-08:00Why mules suit me, a Missourian who likes his riding stock to be as down to earth as possible<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2IavEySrkUmjR8md-Eg2FaUB2siuuDGXxSJKDWNgnrikb8rlUqTvHW0bggQJp2nySIVxO2bYwAjTjzxJPcddXuhXxlFaX61aHrQ80-6Bj0ejv_OM4Dp3MXAXx0JWeb7KJ5NsSR7wpeOug/s1600/2011_1209Mulies0006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2IavEySrkUmjR8md-Eg2FaUB2siuuDGXxSJKDWNgnrikb8rlUqTvHW0bggQJp2nySIVxO2bYwAjTjzxJPcddXuhXxlFaX61aHrQ80-6Bj0ejv_OM4Dp3MXAXx0JWeb7KJ5NsSR7wpeOug/s640/2011_1209Mulies0006.jpg" width="614" /></a></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCjqlA9UURkB-vbffHcTnNI6PJ0prIzg2dKVXoH3MWseIsBpwAX_DO1AfmO1NB4hJTnmZbYAUkzp1AwLynN00wUYY1iG9y3LfEfJdKeLDra-tXXeYDc0X05ySTXCeftdRHAymgYwgPOOpB/s1600/2011_1209Mulies0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCjqlA9UURkB-vbffHcTnNI6PJ0prIzg2dKVXoH3MWseIsBpwAX_DO1AfmO1NB4hJTnmZbYAUkzp1AwLynN00wUYY1iG9y3LfEfJdKeLDra-tXXeYDc0X05ySTXCeftdRHAymgYwgPOOpB/s400/2011_1209Mulies0004.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>I'd be willing to bet there's a psychological syndrome that describes that little fantasy world I indulge in in regard to these four cuter-than-all-get-out mules. I think of them as "my mules". In reality, they don't know me from Adam, but I often drive H Highway between Liberty and Excelsior Springs just to see what they're up to. They live in a large field, some pretty cozy digs at that, with a lake, a barn and plenty of room to roam. Today when I drove by, they were close enough to the road so I could get some good shots and they could wonder, "What in tarnation is that damn fool pointin' that thing at us for?" Actually, they seemed as interested in me as I was in them, and I imagine if I walked toward them in a non-threatening manner one of three things might happen: They'd bolt, they'd come closer to see if I had apples in my pockets or their owner would call the sheriff for assistance in removing a trespasser who somehow believed his mules were joint property, at least in a non-material sense. Folks,I know where fantasy ends and jail time begins. But before I go, I want to make the point that mules suit me because a) they're adorable and b) they're low to the ground. Horses are tall and majestic, but the truth is they scare the heck out of me. If I sit on an animal, I want the distance I might fall to be more mule-like than horse-like. I don't know a whole lot about mule temperament, but I do know they're Missouri's official state animal. We Missourians are down to earth and apparently we like our riding stock to be the same way.</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05205890431766666868noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244117181765624524.post-84575699183207759902011-12-08T11:19:00.000-08:002011-12-08T11:19:48.843-08:00Fly-away hawk prompts brilliant (if pretty obvious) insight<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMP35q6UjcQM6dXHlpSZTlZgcBgW3cxel_sHgAgeP0FOwtxSChtIg8rHtgPwBc6F_9HvxlGqLqTBPaXqPvCTd95y80wnFPMBXWtXNFKgaYMVeHhCb6V8N_jDs8jt0d0dpIg02PAQ6PCSjG/s1600/Hawk+flies+away_web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMP35q6UjcQM6dXHlpSZTlZgcBgW3cxel_sHgAgeP0FOwtxSChtIg8rHtgPwBc6F_9HvxlGqLqTBPaXqPvCTd95y80wnFPMBXWtXNFKgaYMVeHhCb6V8N_jDs8jt0d0dpIg02PAQ6PCSjG/s640/Hawk+flies+away_web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFATCczO5S0Id_LT5RjFY0zY8h5A-EZJ-wMNC7bwBUD-vTKEDrjNTgLIEHesEx7qEdjSuMIFArr4ufu0mVsONn7a4dBvngn0m-tfpxPJYGsM5T58cPJh2rEgToOh6__9VZbbXLs_yPRowQ/s1600/Hawk+flies+away%252C+again_web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFATCczO5S0Id_LT5RjFY0zY8h5A-EZJ-wMNC7bwBUD-vTKEDrjNTgLIEHesEx7qEdjSuMIFArr4ufu0mVsONn7a4dBvngn0m-tfpxPJYGsM5T58cPJh2rEgToOh6__9VZbbXLs_yPRowQ/s320/Hawk+flies+away%252C+again_web.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>Lil' Treybooshkas,</b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>I think I've realized I'm not going to sneak up on any hawks anytime soon. No matter how quietly I think I'm approaching (in a car, radio off, windows down), they sense it and take off. This frustrated me for quite a while until yesterday, when I took these photos. Why try to take a static shot of a hawk perched in a tree when I can get shots of them flying. That's what they do best, anyway, with the exception of hunting for dinner.</b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>I've long been attracted to hawks, although I can't say why. I certainly envy their concentration and graceful flying, and on cold days when I'm inside the car with the heat and gloves on, they're out in the elements, perched on a road sign or branch, always waiting, watching and, in my case, listening.</b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>When I retire, one thing I'd like to do is more on-foot photography. There's not much time now, but I'd like to explore and see what wildlife and other beauty I can find. I have a name for the places I like: the sub-boonies or, if you prefer, the sub-sticks. The farther from civilization the better (of course, I make exceptions for convenience and thrift stores).</b></div><br />
<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>If you see a hawk, tip your hat for me.</b> </div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05205890431766666868noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244117181765624524.post-43770696129513717182011-12-06T08:41:00.000-08:002011-12-06T08:41:52.529-08:00So much everything ... so little time<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh32uPSkPkyX-jRK-hf1kz7IqYnqTN7TSC_FvJRbeTwRmv6YpBpYDEtaulztWX75ZexC2BXAhgJQHk3HzPipbqiV7Sh61TyXoTIzXiDwK4C2DFd8bU-JYCtsoWeAvd3MZxjB2brFZXjYqtt/s1600/Aldridge+windmill_crop+for+top_Web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh32uPSkPkyX-jRK-hf1kz7IqYnqTN7TSC_FvJRbeTwRmv6YpBpYDEtaulztWX75ZexC2BXAhgJQHk3HzPipbqiV7Sh61TyXoTIzXiDwK4C2DFd8bU-JYCtsoWeAvd3MZxjB2brFZXjYqtt/s320/Aldridge+windmill_crop+for+top_Web.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So many windmills, so little time. I stop and take photos of them whenever I can. These are practice shots taken from the road at Aldrich Quarter Horses on Highway 10. Janet Aldrich gave me permission a while back to shoot from their property, which I might take her up on at some point. The sun sets behind the windmill, which makes for an ideal late-afternoon early-evening shot. I've seen more brilliant skies there at dusk, but I wanted to stop and get a feel for positioning. What really interests me now that I've looked at these shots is the old spindly tree to the right of the windmill. Kind of creepy, no? It's especially cartoonesque (can't you see the limbs motioning in a threatening way to Walt Disney characters) in the black-and-white version below. So many trees, so little time!</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZF7HQgBdtR7pEuXW466QRIoc6CRmOnltBphM6NFamfnWoErE0z3Jt4jQxo2HaxdOGaihmNCHqUud7wEN_835VzFY3ct8QVuhi2xX4NTwyErGLFhSZc_jwsW0FHHE6csBLy9K09CyUGbMs/s1600/Aldridge+windmill_BW_crop_Web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZF7HQgBdtR7pEuXW466QRIoc6CRmOnltBphM6NFamfnWoErE0z3Jt4jQxo2HaxdOGaihmNCHqUud7wEN_835VzFY3ct8QVuhi2xX4NTwyErGLFhSZc_jwsW0FHHE6csBLy9K09CyUGbMs/s1600/Aldridge+windmill_BW_crop_Web.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRwd94mC2PcQ-FudOUyyBy64zl8AM602k_xgcy6AZ2QAQ6B_I7yUbEtkF5Huop_H6tQYO0bEE25sxLJVM4F11_Frjo0zr9EAcJgsuEX3swqJPrQY8xT0mocD4QZrBak7qpMZaMSEWBCcYy/s1600/Aldridge+windmill_color_web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRwd94mC2PcQ-FudOUyyBy64zl8AM602k_xgcy6AZ2QAQ6B_I7yUbEtkF5Huop_H6tQYO0bEE25sxLJVM4F11_Frjo0zr9EAcJgsuEX3swqJPrQY8xT0mocD4QZrBak7qpMZaMSEWBCcYy/s400/Aldridge+windmill_color_web.jpg" width="350" /></a></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05205890431766666868noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244117181765624524.post-42529106769724882942011-11-30T10:59:00.000-08:002011-11-30T10:59:29.227-08:00Rescuing Joseph and teaching an Old Dog New Tricks<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/huw0OmqBuzE?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>My faithful treybooshkas,</b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>I asked Joseph, above, for help with this, but as is usually the case, he was in deep meditation and unresponsive. But my son Isaac, a 15-year-old iPod and all-things-digital devotee, explained that I could actually embed "Fibromyalgia-ADD Blues" directly into a blog without asking readers to click on a link. My, we are getting lazy, aren't we? </b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>The new song has yet to go viral and, by my standards, isn't even approaching bacterial. At this point, I'd settle for a mere head cold (listen to the song).</b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">In case you're curious, I found Joseph a couple of years ago on a back road that Northland hillbillys employ to toss out beds, broken recliners, defunct large-screen TVs and, apparently, key members of traditional manger scenes. I'm not Christian myself, but how could I leave Joseph lying by the side of the road in a heap of castoff worldly possessions?</span></b><br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> I loaded him in the back seat, buckled him up safely and took him home. He's been a valued member of our household ever since, and never a peep out of him! Joseph, you rock! He's not just our rock ... he's our standard of serenity.</span></b>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05205890431766666868noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6244117181765624524.post-56583815950499302442011-11-29T04:13:00.000-08:002011-11-29T04:13:09.691-08:00Fibromyalgia-ADD Blues<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Hope you all had a good Thanksgiving. We did, ate dinner at my in-laws' church in Liberty and took a wonderful nature walk with Marieta and Isaac. One of the photos is posted below. </span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Been a while since I've had a post -- layin' low and 'cuperatin' -- reading, writing songs, sleeping, watching Law and Order (Laws and Orders) and soccer and dealin' with "the willies and a cold cold heart". Been fighting a cold or a near-cold, possibly allergies, possibly fatigue and some combination of the above, maybe just some good-old country hypochondria. Don't know, but I'm not a person who does well when he's sick. Maybe that's why I'm hardly ever sick.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, wrote this song (click below) and Isaac recorded/filmed it on his 23rd Generation iPod, which takes photos and video, stores the entire recorded works of Humankind and performs other essential life tasks, including walking the dog and loading the dishwasher.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The song's called "Fibromyalgia-ADD Blues," and it's dedicated to the Medical-Insurance-Pharmaceutical Complex, which I try to avoid like the plague.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/cfats435?feature=mhee">http://www.youtube.com/user/cfats435?feature=mhee</a></span></b></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHifpjd5z6ByWyA2jMzYLTW2xA4b1pZNxbFRs0N4Z_16Y7rSCFohcQUKqF4-WnE8uxeL0lEsxYkjgIDXs19Njl5tc-zA8wTKWwRiaEUqhWoSRpmgIbQyttKTOid3BgA7IvnMzCWp-PGeDN/s1600/2011_1124SoccerDrive0030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHifpjd5z6ByWyA2jMzYLTW2xA4b1pZNxbFRs0N4Z_16Y7rSCFohcQUKqF4-WnE8uxeL0lEsxYkjgIDXs19Njl5tc-zA8wTKWwRiaEUqhWoSRpmgIbQyttKTOid3BgA7IvnMzCWp-PGeDN/s400/2011_1124SoccerDrive0030.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05205890431766666868noreply@blogger.com0