Yesterday Was Frankenstein Day, bye Gene

I looked up on Google to see what special day it is today so that I might have something to muse about and it is National Trail Mix Day.  Whoopee.  I like trail mix occasionally, if I keep it rare.

But while I was looking I saw that the 30th was National Frankenstein Day.  It is one day after Gene Wilder died, who played YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN...... sniff.

This Date In History - Uncle Sam Meddling?

On this day in history, August 30, 1890,  the 23rd  President, Benjamin Harrison signed the first U.S. law requiring inspection of meat products.

Is that an example of the government needlessly meddling into the operations of private enterprise?

Is it costly? Did it save lives?

LAX Airport Crowd Panics Over Loud Noise

LAX returning to normal; police say shooter report unfounded

CNN‎ - 

Larry & Me, Branch Kin

1988- Barbara and Larry White at my parents 50th Anniversary.  Larry and I have known each other since we were kids.  And before then we knew of each other.

We are related to the same people by blood.  Larry's mother Lois Frasure White is a sister to the late Sarah Frasure Hunter.  And Sarah is the wife of  the late Stanley Hunter, my father's brother.

Stanley and Sarah's sons Johnny and David have  both Hunter and Frasure DNA.

I think that makes Larry and I branch-kin.

SUNDAY FUNNIES!! Front Line Combat: BULL RUN!

Illustrated by John Severin,; Co-written by History and Harvey Kurtzman.  Click on each page to make it bigger and readable. 

These Hands Are Meant For Squeezing

Thursday, as you might know, if you keep up with my blog, we went to Union County.  On the way there, we stopped in Cherry Log, Georgia, at the Pink Pig BBQ for lunch.

While in the area I wondered how far we were from the farm that is owned by my sister's retired co-worker.  He bought a farm in Cherry Log after he retired.

Here comes the true story I have told it on this blog before, so if you have read it, skip it.

After a man my sister worked with retired he bought a farm and bought some cows.

After he got settled he invited the ladies that he worked with to come up for lunch, which  they came.

While showing them around the farm they came across the cows in the pasture.  He pointed out the four or five cows by their names.  They coincidentally  had the same names as the his ex-female  co-workers that were standing there.  He said he milks them by his bare hands every day.

On the way to Marietta one of the ladies said to the rest, "I don't know about y'all, but I feel violated."

Hunter Relative Byrom Herbert Reece's Farm and Heritage

Yesterday we went to the Byron Herbert Reece Farm and Heritage Center in Union County, just next to Vogle State Park, about ten miles south of Blairsville.

Byron was a farmer, poet, and teacher with the priorities in that same order.  He had to be a farmer to keep his parents fed and warm; in his mind he was a constant prose creator, which is where his heart was, and well, being a teacher paid the bills.

Then to make it interesting, or worse,  Byron had a TB.  If a hardship or pain feeds on creativity - then Byron had an unfair advantage over other suffering artists.   He was very creative, but sad and depressed a lot of  the time.  Yes, that is a cigarette he is holding in his hand.  He smoked more than a chain-smoker.

He took his own life at age 40, after grading his students papers at Young Harris College.

He was Georgia's Official Poet.

All this was on a video we watched at his heritage center and a book we own that Anna read aloud while I drove.

We got to walk around the same farm Byron worked and everything was neatly labeled.

I am a 4th cousin to Byron Herbert Reece (1917-1948), - we share the same g-g-g-grandfahter (John Hunter (1776-1848)), otherwise we may have never went there.

Distant relative or not, I'm glad we did.  The docent is very informed and quoted him exactly a few times.  There is no charge, but it would help pay for the upkeep if you bought something.

The Heritage Center Museum

The above and below picture is Byron Herbert Reece's "Man Cave"so to speak.  It was his refuge for privacy to write, read, correspond and think.

A friend and distant relative told me  his good and bad experience in this barn.  The good was that he kissed a girl the first time.  The bad was that it was his cousin.

What I should have said, "What did you expect, you are related to everybody in a ten mile radius!"

There are four groups like this with some parts of Byron' poetry etched in stones and sitting rocks around it.

Anthony, Opal, Me, and the Preacher's Daughter

Throwback Thursday.  c1949-50.  The toddler is my cousin Anthony.  His mother Opal Petty is stooped down comforting him.  And the handsome brute on the tricycle is me.  The picture was taken in their front yard in Varnell, Georgia.

Varnell is about ten miles northeast of Dalton, near Cohutta.  Look at the tricycle.  It is too big for Anthony.  And it would not be mine, we were at least 85 miles from Marietta. 

It probably belonged to the little girl next door in the big white house.  The little girl's father was a preacher. 

On the other side of their house was a railroad crossing and a big water tank tower.  I vaguely remember that she and I climbed up the ladder and down into the tank.  And all the grownups had a hissy fit.

A few years ago my sister Frances and I revisited Varnell.  This is what used to be the preacher's big white house,  Is vacant now.

AAawwwkk!

For years we have been purchasing 30 day parking permits for Wellstar Kennestone Hospital through The Good Life Club. 

The last one we purchased was in May.  At the time we were at the Wellstar Cobb General Hospital near Austell.  When we bought it we asked if it was good at the Kennestone Wellstar, and the lady told us it was.

We used it once since, in July, at the Kennestone Wellstar.

Yesterday we were at Kennestone again for a medical appointment.  The lady at the booth refused it.  She said they no longer honor that system as of two weeks ago.  We said, the 30 visit pass we bought said it was good for a year.  Nope!  She called her supervisor over and she concurred what the woman said.  They said we bought it at the Cobb General Wellstar, that was between them and us.

I  wish I had said, "But you are owned by the same company and was told it would be honored in both places!"

That is what we should have said.  Instead we just sputtered in suprise.

They raised the gate bar for this time, but no more.

Something is not right when a company can renege on a service they sold.  

Adam Wandering Around Uncle Tommy's Place

Our son Adam when he was about 9-10.  These were taken at his late Uncle Tommy's place.  The little house behind him, if I remember correctly, housed a walk-in freezer or giant cooler  for such things as hunting game and farm animal carcasses.

Tommy used to say, "If we don't grow it or kill it we don't eat it."

All Roads Lead to Atlanta and Waterman Streets

I could be in this scene.  It is facing the intersection of Atlanta and Waterman Streets.  If suddenly I was thrown into it and the cars started moving and Kenneth Carlile stepped to the curb with his school patrol white-web belt and cross breast  and held out his hand to stop the traffic for me to cross the street - then would say, "Wait Eddie!  You are not suppose to cross Atlanta Street!  Stay on it until you get to Hicks Grocery at East Dixie and turn left!  I'm going to tell Miss Whitehead and your parents you tried to cross here!"

I remember one time at the corner of Waterman Street and Atlanta Street Van Callaway and I passed a man walking towards us.  When he got close we saw he had no nose.  It had been removed or ripped off - just a raw looking mess.  

From where the photographer is standing you can "sense" Manley and Adams Sinclair Station on the right.  Across the street, if Kenneth had allowed me to cross, up about two doors towards town is/was the house I was born in... but at the time of the picture the house was a service station and the front room had a pin ball machine that we used to play a few games on the way to and from school.

If I changed my direction and started going the opposite way on Atlanta Street on the same side of the street just a few houses down was a green one level stucco house that my Grandma Petty, my aunt Opal, and her son Anthony lived there.  Opal did not own a car and worked in Atlanta, she always lived near a bus stop.  A house or so down was the policeman Harold Griggs' house.  Harold had a daughter my age named Gretchen.  Gretchen was intelligent and good looking.  We were out of her league.  Harold was a Marietta Policeman and so was my father. 

About across Atlanta Street was the a  a big high white fence around it.  Deep in a wooded surroundings was  a colonial house.  It was the Boston Family's dwelling.  I did not  know until I got into genealogy that the Bostons were in-laws.  They didn't know it either, and if they did, they were keeping it a secret.  A Trammell relative, daughter of Leander Newton Trammell, married into the Boston family.

I think the street that went from Atlanta Street, over the railroad tracks to West Atlanta Street was Goss Street.  On the corner of Atlanta Street and Goss Street was my uncle Spencer Crain's Garage, next door to it was Romeo Huggins Welding, and across the tracks was a railroad water tower and the Confederate Cemetery, which is still there.

Back across Atlanta Street again and you at the corner of Atlanta Street and Frazier Street.  The big house on the right is of Senator Alexander Stephen Clay.   Senator Clay was a Marietta hero -his statue is in Glover Park, and he had a noble family.  His kids were spoiled, so I read.  Hubert Clay was mayor of Marietta and a circuit judge for north Georgia - he was also one of the leaders that planned the details in the Leo Frank lynching.

On the other corner of Goss and Atlanta Streets a Polish family lived that were war refugees.  Also, a Polish family lived about 3 doors down from Crain's Garage.  For some strange reason, our principal, Miss Whitehead sent me to their house in the rain to check to see if they were still living there.  Their kids registered for school but quit coming to class.  I went and no one came to the door.  How come I was selected to be the 11 year old truant officer?  That would have been a job for Kenneth Carlile, school safety guard.


There was a nice stone holding wall and plenty of little trees and bushes.  My friend Tony who lived close to me used to take delight in taking a dump behind a bush in the Clays' front yard, on the way home from school.

About two houses down was the Pittards' house.  Charles Pittard was a couple years older than I, we both had a friend in common, Sam Carsley.  But to Charles Pittard I was invisible.

I was not so invisible to a Victory Cab  driver in front of the Pittards' house.  One time I was riding my bike home from school in the rain I slipped and had a crash landing which knocked me out.  A Victory Cab driver drove by and saw me, conked out with a turned over bike. He pulled me over, put me, out cold, into the taxi, loaded my bike up and carried me home.  It was a surprised to my mother when she saw a Victory Cab pull up, the driver to out carrying me like a sack of corn feed.  How he knew me, I will never know.  Marietta was a small town back then.

Down from the Pittards, was the Williams.  The live high on a hill - still do.  They owned a bus company in Marietta.

On the corner of Atlanta and Clay was classmate Elizabeth Hawthorn's grandmother.  South of Clay Street was lived a Marietta Postman, I forgot his name, he had a small goldfish pond in his front yard.  

On down was Crestview Baptist Church where preacher Vice or Bice Baptized me once, maybe they feel they should give it another shot.  Crestview Baptist, like other churches had a huge decrease in attendance and membership so they combined forces (if you want to call it that) with Rose Lane Baptist Church and changed its name to Grace Point and it now they enlisted the help of a retired minister who is good at drawing people, Rev Nelson Price and I think I remember reading they are starting a school.

Then was Hick's Grocery, which appears to be more of a landmark in people's memory than the Clay House.

All things must step aside for new history rolling in.

Arnold the Mime

Arnold Guest, at a Bell Reunion, jumping with joy or pretending to be a mime bumping into an invisible wall. 

Woody and Jury Duty

For weeks, maybe months, I have been reading on Kindle the biography of Woody Allen, THE UNRULY LIFE OF WOODY ALLEN by Marion Meade.  I am 55% finished.

I doubt if this is an authorized biography because Marion Meade has a lot of not-so-nice facts about Woody.    I don't know about her other biographies but she is very detailed in Woody's.

I am reading it slowly and re-reading some of it.  It is worth retaining.

The reason I am bringing up the book now is that on Uncle John's Page a Day Bathroom Reader calendar on the Weekend page of August 20th and 21st tells of the time Woody Allen tried to get out of Jury Duty.  He couldn't.  But he did show up with his lawyer and a body guard and refused to sit with other jurors (Ms Meade points out in her book that he goes out of his way not to speak to possible fans).  

The judge excused him.

Tysons on Hwy 92

2015.  James Tyson and his aunt Ann Tyson Brown in the Bascomb Methodist Cemetery, Cherokee County,  to attend the burial of Billy Tyson (1927-2015).  Billy is James's father and Ann's brother.

Billy owned Tyson's Garage at the corner of Hwy 92 and Wade Green Road. 

The last time I spoke to Billy, at the funeral of our aunt Ann Tyson Crowder,  he told a group of Asian Investors wanted some Tyson land on Hwy 92 and they gave him something like $100,000 to hold it for them a certain time period.  The ending date came and passed.  He never heard a word from them again.   $$$$$

SUNDAY FUNNIES!! Robert Crumb: METRO

This is METRO by Robert Crumb.  It is same neighborhood as it changes over the years. Enlarge each picture and take it picture by picture in sequential order.  Is that us? 

Yep.

The Case of the Mysterious Nerd

Willow and do our daily walk most mornings before daybreak.   We walk between one and two miles and rarely see a human (but we do see cats and rabbits often).  This morning was an exception.

As we were walking down a hill approaching an intersection I saw a tall figure walking on the perpendicular street.  He passed the corner, looked up and saw us and did a walking U-turn and walked up the hill towards us.  On the street we were on it was on dark no street lights or moonlight.

When the person got close he said, "I think I am suppose to say "Good day, Good night, or Good morning, but I don't know what time it is."

He was close enough now that I recognized him but I don't remember where.  Krogers?  Dog park?  Those are about the only places I frequent often.   I think he is in his late teens or early twenties.  In my mind I remember I had him profiled as being sort of nurdy. 

"Good morning will work" I said.

"Good!  Good morning then!"

Willow and I moved on.  I was not sure what he was doing or what he was up to and I didn't want to stand around it the dark and chat with him.

About two blocks away I ran into him again.  He didn't seem to notice me that time.  I saw he had a clipboard in his hands and he kept looking down at it.

What was he up to at 5:30am with a clipboard?

I remember on the neighborhood on-line crime watch several cars in the area had reported theft of items in their cars.

Was he a items-left- in- unlocked- cars thief?  He seemed too gentle for that kind of activity.

The puzzle will probably stay a puzzle.

Happy National Radio Day!

The radio has always been my friend.  Back before we had a television we had a radio.  In my young years I kept up with serials on radio such as THE LONG RANGER, and THE THIN MAN.  Then the scary, mostly Sunday Nights shows, like LIGHTS OUT!

Later I became interested in NBC's MONITOR  that was on weekends.  On MONITOR was several skits scattered what seemed at random BOB AND RAY comedy skits.

In the evenings we listened to the CRACKERS baseball games announced by an guy named Henry.  I forgot his last name.  And in the day time the same announcer was called Hank the Prank, who then was a DJ and full of sound effects.

Later there were  Skinny Bobby Harper and Gary McKee - these people kelp me entertained while I commuted to Atlanta to work.

At night blasted from the Tennessee airwaves were Ernie's Record Mart and I forgot the name of the rhythm and blues station that advertised Royal Crown Petroleum Jelly.

I felt at home listening to the top 40s and still do - the same songs as then; my comfort zone, so to speak.

When I was in the Navy stationed in New Jersey a little clique of us liked classical radio broadcast from New York City and also we listened to Jean Sheppard talk endlessly on anything of his formative years - and if he ran out of things to say he would pull out his kazoo and play it until he thought of something.

Locally I think we listened mostly to stations WBIE, WFOM, WQXI, WAOK, WSB, WPLO, WGST, WRNG, and probably more.

Now, I don't listened to the radio so much to be entertained, I have my own music on my ipod and ipone for that, I mostly listen to NPR to listen to interviews and in-depth reports on subjects.  It makes me feel I am more informed, which makes me feel trapped.  The more I learn the more helpless I feel.

Radio is my friend for life. 

August 20th Day in History

On this Day in History, August the 20th

1866 President Andrew Johnson formally declares US Civil War over.

Alice's True Adventures

October 1975.  Alice Allen holding our  newborn Rocky.  

Alice was my co-worker at the Postal Source Data Center in Atlanta.  We were born either on the same date or a day apart, I forgot which.  She was a devoted friend.  She died shortly after I transferred to the Marietta Post Office.

Alice's life-style would have made a good soap opera.  Bizarre things seemed to follow her.  She reminded me of the soap opera "MARY HARTMAN, MARY HARTMAN".

Alice drunk a lot and seemed to complicate her mistakes.  When I would see her at work with her red wig tilted and a cigarette hanging sideways I knew she had one too many.

She was having an affair with a fellow named William.  One night at 11:30 pm I was walking into work - the Federal Annex was next door to Rich's.  There was a little parking lot for special delivery vehicles outside the door.  We normally walked through that little parking lot to go to get to a back door.  The parking lot was a kind of social setting.   Maybe four to eight postal workers either on break, lunch, or just hiding there to have a "snort".  That night no one was in sight.  As I got closer I saw the "usual party people" stooped down behind the postal vehicles peeping up over or round it.  They told me three people, a lady and two men just ran by and inside.  The last man was taking aim and shooting at the man and woman ahead of him.

I found out later that night it was Alice and her boy friend William were leading the run and her husband Alphonza closely behind them had the gun and doing the shooting.

They ran inside with Alphonza in too in pursuit.  There, inside, in the middle of a large number of people working Alphonza left quickly.  He was not caught.

The Post Office needed the employee's nearby parking lot for expansion.  They made arrangements for several other parking lots, some as far as 5 or 6 blocks away for us to park.  Which can be scary walking in downtown Atlanta, sometimes alone, near midnight.  (that is another story).  So, some of us would cruise the little small side streets closer to park on.

Alice, Santes, and I found a little street, next to a fire station,  only a block away.  We parked there for a while until:  One morning after work our cars were not there.  I forgot the details of how we found out, but we knew they were loaded to an impounded car lot.  We had to pay a fine then pay the wrecker service for the wrecker service and the storage fee.  Our friend Chuck Watson (also dead) helped us go to the Atlanta Police Station to pay the fine and pay the wrecker service.

What I am leading up to is one of Alice's unpredictable statement.  Before going around to the bank and police station we asked the man behind the counter at the wrecker service how much he said, "A release from the police and $258. and 89 ₵"

Alice screamed to the top of her lungs, "Two hundred and fifty-eight mother fucking dollars!?!"

Without blinking an eye with her  he added, "and eighty-nine cents."

That was an inspiration to me.  I used that punch line many times in the few years following: "and eighty-nine cents."

She had so many incidences they all blend in.

For no apparent reason she joined the Army Reserves.  I think it was just a chance to take a break from her normal life.  Which even complicated her life more, there is where she met William.

I remember one time period Alice was coming late every night.  She just couldn't make it there on time... she was leading a unpredictable life with emergencies always popping up.  Management was building a case on her, and she was helping them document it, every night.

Our immediate supervisor, off the record, got with Alice and me.  He had a plan:  Since I normally came in 30 minutes or more early every night, to help my friend Alice why didn't I help her out - call her at home and make sure she was awake, and if not wake her up.   I said OK.  And I did exactly that and her attendance improved.

Then, after keeping up her improved attendance she received a cash $100 or $250 incentive award.  I hit the roof.

I asked my supervisor why should she get the award and not me?  After all, if wasn't for me she would continue to be late and be fired.  My boss, W.  Wright told me it was like this:  "She showed improvement in attendance, you didn't" 

The Wounded Knee Mystery

Yesterday we took my sister to a specialist, which we do about once a month. 

I wore shorts as I mostly do this time of the year.

Driving on the way back I rested one hand on my leg and happened to touch my right knee.   It was bloody.  Blood had trickled down my leg, from my knee to my socks and was already beginning to hardened, it was like a long hardening scab.

What did I do this time?

Anna cleaned it up but we thought it best not to go in the public pool this morning - like opened sores.

I have been weighing daily these days.  This morning I lost a 1.2 pounds since yesterday morning.  Was that 1.2 pounds of flesh and blood?

Adam and Rocky Hunter 1987 Outside Grandparents Anniversary

Throwback Thursday.

Adam and Rocky Hunter, 1987.  Outside the Marietta First Methodist Church, taking a smoke break* from their grandparents Janie and Ed Hunter's 50th Anniversary Celebration.

*just kidding about the smoking.

Ann and Don at MHS 60's 50th in 2010

Ann Mussura and Don Croft attending the Marietta High School 1960 Class 50th Reunion in 2010.  And a slice of Marvin Miller in the background on the right.

Boy!  Did we have fun!

It makes me if we had so much fun why didn't we have a 55th Reunion?

Or did they? ... sniff.

Elvis sings LOVE ME TENDER

One More Time Elvis:

Elvis died 39 years ago, this date.

Pool Visits Countdown

A couple weeks ago we started back going to the Cobb County Aquatic Center.   We still had our cards from a previous year with about 8 visits each.  Each morning when the desk person scanned our cards the person told us how many was left.  Last Friday she said, "You each have one visit left".  It was like a count down.

We thought about having our cards loaded with 10 visits then we looked at bigger options.

Monday when we returned we bought passes for a year.  You save money that way.

This morning when the attendant scanned our cards I said, "How many are left - 364?"

Can I pull them a good wise-ass crack out of the air of what?

4 Generations of Hunters

Four Generations of Hunters.  Left to Right:  

William A. Hunter (1842-1928).   William was born in Franklin, Macon County, North Carolina, fought in the CSA, Civil War, during the Battle of Kennesaw Mountain he was shot in the knee, recuperated in nearby Woodstock, and ended up living in the area;  

Herbert H. Hunter (1901-1976).  Herbert was born in Cherokee County, Georgia, probably near Woodstock, moved with the family to Marietta and was became a barber, he owned Hunter's Barbershop until he retired and sold it to Oscar Powell; Herbert is holding his son Ray Hunter (1923-1991).  

Ray is my generation, my oldest first cousin.   Ray served in WWII;  worked for a public utility company in New Jersey until he retired and moved back to his hometown (Marietta);  And Frank Paris Hunter (1879-1950).  

Frank was born near Paris, Texas, moved with his family to Woodstock, Georgia, the same year he was born.  He and his wife Minnie Tyson and their children moved to Marietta about 1905-06).  Frank was a machinist, he worked for the Atlanta Newspapers (Atlanta Constitution and Journal), Kraft Foods in Alabama, and mostly Glover Machinery only about two blocks from his last home.

Today is NATIONAL TELL A JOKE DAY

Today is National Tell a Joke Day.

OK,.  Here goes:

A woman noticed her husband standing on the bathroom scale, sucking in his stomach. “Ha­­! That’s not going to help,” she said.

“Sure, it does,” he said. “It’s the only way I can see the numbers.”

_______________________________________

Wait!  I have another one:  This one I think was made up when we were in high school by Larry Bradford.

Once a young lady was about to have a baby.  She prayed and prayed for the baby to be born perfect.  She has been sinless and maybe her wish would be granted.
The due date came and the baby was born.  As soon as it was born she inspected the baby.  It appeared to be perfect.
She was about to thank God for granting her wish when she noticed the baby had a golden screw in its naval.
She prayed again for the Lord to remove the little golden screw.  She brought up again to Him that she had never sinned and this is punishing her baby and her.
She was praying by a window.  She noticed a sun ray coming through the window.  Down the sun ray slid a golden screwdriver.
It was plain what she had to do.  She had to take the golden screwdriver and unscrew the golden screw out of the child's belly.
She did exactly that.  
The golden screw came out easily.  In a happy gleefully way she picked up the baby.
Its butt fell off.

Lunch with a Man With a Clerical Collar

At a restaurant in Woodstock today at lunch I noticed a man that looked at a priest come in.  He was dressed like a priest: black shirt and the white clerical collar.  He  sat down beside two middle age women who were already eating.

I was wondering if he would bow his head and bless his food or what.

Nope!  

He dug right in.

History Evemts Are Good Pickings Today

This is a good date, August 15th,  for history.  I think most of us know some about most of the below events that happened on this date.

1057 - Macbeth, the King of Scotland, was killed by the son of King Duncan. 

If it wasn't for Shakespeare we might have asked  "Macbeth who?" 

1848 - The dental chair was patented by M. Waldo Hanchett.  

Of course this one everybody has had experience with.  Everybody knows of  the game, "Where's Waldo?"

1877 - Thomas Edison wrote to the president of the Telegraph Company in Pittsburgh, PA. The letter stated that the word, "hello" would be a more appropriate greeting than "ahoy" when answering the telephone. 

I think most people still say "Hello"  but some say, "Yeah?"  or "Whatzup?" or "This is a recording".

1911 - The product Crisco was introduced by Procter & Gamble Company. 

You have a choice:  "Crisco Ass" or "Lard Ass".

1914 - The Panama Canal was officially opened to commercial traffic as an American ship sailed from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean. The first vessel to pass through the canal was the American cargo and passenger ship SS Ancon. 

My great uncle Oscar Ray Hunter (1884-1963) worked with the Panama Canal Project.  Not sweating digging it or chopping down giant vines with a machete with his shirt unbuttoned , but comfortably inside drinking tea and punching an adding machine, with a fan no doubt..  He was a bookkeeper.   His office must have been just down the hall from the medical unit, he married a nurse there, Charlotte McCabe (1881-1958).

Oscar Ray Hunter

1935 - Will Rogers and Wiley Post were killed in an airplane crash.

Will is still universally quoted -much of what they said a hundred years ago still fits today; withstood the test of time.

It isn't what we don't know that gives us trouble, it's what we know that ain't so.

Will Rogers

1939 - "The Wizard of Oz" premiered in Hollywood, CA. Judy Garland became famous for the movie's song "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." 

Buddy and Randy

I carry my dog Willow to the dog park almost every day.   There I sit for about a hour and let Willow do her thing.  Sometimes she mingles, sometimes she digs a hole, and sometimes she just wanders around by herself and sniff things.  She always take a dump. 

I got to know some of the repeat visiting dogs and their masters  Actually, I already knew one of the dog owners but didn't know I knew him (small world), but that is a story for another day.

Seeing so many different types of dogs I feel something like a male version of Jane Goodall or Dian Fossey, Canine Division.

This time a German Sheppard Buddy is on my  mind.  When Buddy and his master Randy enter the park Buddy takes off running to the area we sit; hangout.  Randy has a plastic thing that you can fling a ball much further than if you threw it manually.  Buddy usually snags the ball on a bounce right before the benches, drops it where he caught it and immediately runs in a different direction, which there he catches another ball Randy has sent across the park.  Buddy returns the other ball and Randy has both balls. It was all part of the plan.  They will continue to send the ball whizzing with Buddy until one of them gets tired of it.  They take a break.

Buddy has a mindset of a jock.

A couple of times I have seen some other dog beat Buddy to the ball.  Buddy does not take it well, he might growl, or snap at the poor mutt who wanted to be part of the ball game.

In fact, Buddy holds a grudge.  He remember which dog grabbed his ball and maybe a week or so later attack the poor fellow.  Luckily Randy controls Buddy, so he shouts and the fight is over.... most the time.

Buddy is possessive.  He doesn't want anyone playing with his balls.  And he doesn't want to play with anyone else's balls.

Once a guy found an identical ball to Randy's.  He has his two, so he has no need for the new found ball.  But, he said he would try it anyway.

He put the new found ball in his little flinger and sent it flying.  Buddy ran it down, sniffed at it and walk away with the ball untouched.  It wasn't his. 

 

Sunday Funnies!! Aces High: Flying Tigers

This was in EC's short lived ACES HIGH comicbook.  Art by MAD original artist Wally Wood.

of course you know to click on picture to make it bigger so you can read the balloons and make sense of it all.