Ghost Story

Up in Hackettstown, New Jersey, the memory of Tillie Smith still looms large in the public heart, and those Hackettstonians who believe in ghosts feel that Tillie still walks among them in spectral form.

It was April, 1886, when Tillie, a member of the kitchen staff at Centenary College who took her room and board in a dorm there, asked fellow employee James J. Titus to let her in the building after an evening at a theatre performance. 

She was found murdered the next morning in a field behind the school. Titus was convicted of murder and rape, and condemned to swing from a gallows for the crime. 

Years later, Titus cheated the hangman by claiming that Tillie had seduced him (a married man, and a father) into an affair. 

The appellate jury bought his story of accidentally strangling her while trying to silence her from revealing their unsanctifed union.

 

With his death sentence commuted, Titus was freed after 19 years, and live in Hackettstown until dying in 1952, aged 95.

But people in Hackettstown believed that Tillie was killed defending her honor, and the statue shown here blesses her memory. What's more, they believe Tillie's ghost walks around the South Hall dorm, moaning, and making the lights flicker.

First things first

They call it March Madness and it hasn't even begun yet and some people are mad already.

Out in West Virginia, the basketball fans are all worked up because their team from West Virginia University was not invited to the "big dance" - the NCAA basketball tournament. 68 teams get the coveted invitation, and the folks in WV are just as mad as all-get-out because they weren't invited, by cracky!

Other interesting towns in WV include Odd, Hoo Hoo, and Jumbo.

This seems to happen every year, every tournament. Someone gets left out, or some team loses the chance to advance in the playoffs because of a "bad call," and people can't get over it.

So what will they do up there, or out there, or down there? They will go to court to make sure that justice is done!

(Actually, Justice is the name of their junior senator - 6'7" Jim Justice, descendant of coal mining people who was once a billionaire but now scrimps by on a net worth of 513 million dollars. Maybe he could sponsor a tournament.)

Anyway, the state says they're starting an investigation, with  Attorney General JB McCuskey asking the NCAA to explain their process for selecting the Great 68.

As you would expect in a story concerning college basketball, someone named Bubba is involved here. The athletic director at the University of North Carolina is one Bubba Cunningham, who is the chairman of the selection committee.

👉North Carolina was chosen to go to the tournament.

👉Cunningham was said to have been recused from any deliberation involving NC. 

"Nearly every single sports fan, pundit and Bracketologist had WVU as a shoo-in for the tournament," Gov. Patrick Morrisey said after the Mountaineers were the first team uninvited. "This was a miscarriage of justice and robbery at the highest levels."

According to an article in the New York TIMES, "West Virginia ranks among the most distressed states in child poverty rates and median incomes, in population loss and in working-age adults out of the labor force."

But sure, worry about basketball. The state is regarded as having the worst healthcare in the entire nation, a rough economy, high opioid addiction, and crushing poverty for many residents, but how about that daggone NCAA?  

The governor and the attorney general took time from their busy schedules to have this funny sign made up for the press conference. 

It's the law!

Regular viewers of TV's Big Bang Theory (and we know who we are!) are familiar with Sheldon's eccentricities, none of which seem all that outlandish to me, if you want to know the truth. Take the simple matter of His Spot - the far right cushion on the sofa (if you're facing it) is the place he staked out when he moved in. 

Always searching for legal standing in such matters, Sheldon says he has placed this seat in "in a state of eternal dibs",  and that would stand up in any court anywhere. Like four balls is a walk and three strikes is an out, the calling of dibs is understood, and not to be questioned.

Similarly, someone who, through carelessness or folly of their own, loses the key top scoop in their Trip-L-Dippr ice cream cone can appeal to the crowd he's hanging with for a replacement scoop, but when the verdict of "tough beans" or "tough noogies" is handed down from the hooting crowd, there is no room for appeal. "Tough beans" is like a Supreme Court decision, without sleepy Clarence Thomas involved.

Holiday Rerun:Happy St. Patrick's Day

 Well, here we are again, March 17, St Patrick's Day.  Since I don't care for green beer or corned beef and cabbage, and I look like a lawn in green clothing, I thought I would spend the morning finding out just who Patrick was, and what he did.

Patrick (c. AD 385–461) is the foremost patron saint of Ireland.
Saint Patrick's Day has been an official religious holiday since the early 17th Century. By the way, I used to work with a woman from Ireland, and every March she recoiled in horror at the dissolute way in which Americans guzzle and gobble their way through what is, in Ireland, a very sacred religious holiday.

But that's none of my beeswax. The original point of celebrating Patrick's day was to commemorate the arrival of Christianity in Ireland and shed a light on Irish culture and the goodness of their people.  There are parades in many cities, and people wear green clothing and shamrock decorations. 

Patrick was born in Britain, in the days of the Roman occupation, and became a missionary in Ireland after being kidnapped as a teenager and taken in slavery to Gaelic Ireland.  He was a shepherd there for six years and had a dream in which God told him to flee to the coast, where he would find a ship to take him home.

He did get home and went a seminary, becoming a priest.  Later he returned to Ireland and, in his missionary work, led thousands of pagan druids to Christianity.

Remember hearing that "St Patrick drove all the snakes out of Ireland"?  Well, guess what?  Ireland never has had native snakes!

The legend was spun that he was in the middle of a 40-day fast and some snakes attacked him, so he chased them into the sea. What he chased away was the paganism, after all.

This legend was likely made up and spread by people who know nothing about snakes, because those of us familiar with slithering reptiles know doggone well they don't respond to being chased or even to being hollered at (no ears).

Scientists figure that it was the most recent Ice Age that froze the snakes out of Ireland.

But Patrick died on this day, March 17, 461, and is recognized for what he did do - bringing modern Christianity to a pagan land - as much as for what he didn't do - driving snakes away.  

Enjoy your day, have a good time, and be safe!

Sunday Rerun: It Takes Brains

 We talked the other day about baseball wit Mickey Rivers, who, upon hearing that Reggie Jackson claimed to have an IQ of 160,  asked,"Out of what? A thousand?"

Lauren Marbe

And then, I surfstumbled across an article about 16-year-old female Lauren Marbe from Essex, England, whose IQ measures 161.  This puts her one point ahead of both Reginald Martinez Jackson and Albert Einstein, who used his noodle to come up with "  E=mc²" and we all understand that completely, don't we?

So here is the article, and as it says, Einstein was never actually given an IQ test, but the geniuses who admire genuises have always figured him for a 160, and a 44 regular in sports jackets.  Being legendary for forgetfulness, Einstein might not have even shown up, had he been scheduled to take an IQ test.

Lauren, daughter of a cab driver, is the possessor of a mighty mind, and she seems like any other 16-year-old.  She likes to dude herself up and go out, and she is wavering in her career path between being an architect and being a singer/actress.  There seems to be no middle ground there, although it would seem that the people behind certain buildings were only acting like they were real architects...
Here is a sample IQ test question:  


 Which number should come next in this series?

25,24,22,19,15

A. 4
B. 5
C. 10
D. 14


If your answer is (c) 10, congratulations!  You and Lauren should spend some time together being smart.  My answer was (b) 5, because a list that has #25, Don Baylor, #24, Rick Dempsey, #22, Jim Palmer, #19, Johnny Unitas, and #15, Davey Johnson, needs a great third baseman:  #5, the one, the only, Brooks Robinson.

The above serves to show how (and if) my noggin works, and why I am a stranger to the people who select the top IQ people.  

Congratulations, Lauren, and good luck in your career. It must be nice to be brainy.

The Saturday Picture Show, March 15, 2025

 

I mean, when I was a young man, I fretted all the time...are my Weejuns just right, is my hair too long/short/blond, do I say the clever things...and then I thought, whom am I trying to impress? 

London Lee had a short career in the 60s as the "rich kid" comic with a nasal whine about how tough he had it growing up swell. But at least he got to see Sammy Davis, Jr. perform, and I wish I could say I did.

Before computers and letra-sets, people such as my father hand-lettered signs for offices and stores. Dad made this one while working for Baltimore Gas & Electric in the building later known as the Power Plant downtown. Like everything he did, it was flawless.

Spring break coming up and time for the kiddies to get busy making spring art! Fork over the money for some paint, and there you go!

A complete waist of time.

Credit Jeremy Black for the this picture of the really truly rare Yellow Cardinal, spotted in Alabaster,  Alabama by Professor Geoffrey Hill of Auburn University, if you'll pardon me for mentioning them. Like all Cardinals, this guy really wants to be Crimson!

Whenever someone says, "Let's go for a walk," I always hope this is what they have in mind. It never is.

I don't know what those diagonal lines mean...maybe "RHOMBUS PARKING ONLY"?

Casting is all set for the new FOXXXXX comedy sensation set to hit your set this fall...it's the all new "Two And A Half Men"! Tune in for hi-jinx, Mondays at 9.

If you enjoy your cup of tea, or whatever is your pleasure, really LOVE it and see if that doesn't add a little lift to your day!

Get the point

As my post-surgical rehab continues, the weather has gotten nice enough to walk outside on our court, which spares me from walking a hole in the carpet in the basement. Nice to be outside during "only hoodie" weather, meaning a hoodie is enough. I hope I'm finished all the rehab by the time it gets to be 112° outside with drippy humidity. Let's all hope for that.

One of the things my physical terrorist therapist kept stressing is the need to look ahead when I walk, not down at the floor. I don't want to disappoint him, but I have to spend 1/2 of my time looking down on the street as I strut around here. I am finding a surprising amount of nail and screws lying in the roadway. Yesterday's haul included one self-tapping screw (which could nicely tap right into your tire) and one roofing nail. (Ditto).

There's a house up at the top of the court that was being rented out and now carpenters and plumbers are in there every day giving the place a total overhaul. Maybe some of the loose hardware is coming from that project; I don't know. Old Eagle Eye here spots them and picks them up to dispose of when I get home. 

I'm sure they wind up here by accident. The tire shops are busy enough; it's not like they ride around tossing nails and screws around to drum up more patch business. But just as icy roads mean big business for body and fender shops, holes in tires mean it will be a Goodyear for someone in that line.

I'm just one man, prowling one court, looking for sharp stuff. If I prevent one puncture, you can say I nailed it. Otherwise, I'm screwed.

Don't Egg On Bacon

It's tough, being famous for just one thing. There was a country singer named Ernest Ashworth whose primary claim to fame was the big hit "Talk Back Trembling Lips." Old Ern dined out on that record for years and years. He wore sequined suits with giant red lips on them, and guitars similarly decorated, and every Saturday night he showed up at the Grand Ole Opry and sang that song to his adoring public.

I bring this up because of the difference between Ashworth and Kevin Bacon, who has been in dozens of movies over the years. Everyone loved him in "Footloose," and now he says his "worst nightmare is to be at a wedding and the DJ puts on the music" from that film. "They always start out being about the bride, and then there's alcohol involved," he went on. "And by about 10:30, the song comes on, and suddenly the wedding becomes about me getting out and dancing. People will literally form a circle around me and clap their hands like I'm a trained monkey. It's not because I don’t love the song; I do love this song. It's not because I'm not proud of the movie; I'm 100 percent proud of it." Just don't ask him to dance to it. See, if I were to meet Bacon in real life (my sister and her husband rode the Cape May Ferry with him one time; that's my six degrees of Kevin Bacon) I wouldn't ask him to dance. My request would be that he reprise his line from "Animal House," where he was in his ROTC uniform trying to hold back the rampaging crowd by shrieking, "Remain calm! All is well!" It's tough to be famous, not that I would know. And no one asked me to dance at their wedding, either.

Something new

 Excitement has reached fever pitch in sleepy Havre de Grace, MD, the antique town up where the mouth of the Susquehanna River meets the Chesapeake Bay, and it's all because querulous celebrity chef Gordon Ramsay has come to town to film one of those shows where he hollers at the help and lambastes them for not basting the lamb correctly.

It all seemed contrived to me, the 1 1/2 times I've seen Ramsay plow through a restaurant staff like George Patton. I mean it just can't be that there's a problem every time the cranky Scot struts into a beanery, but he finds one every time. The premise of this still unnamed show is unknown as of now, but don't look for it to have Ramsay stepping far from the realms of a) cooking and b) arguing about cooking.

It was last weekend that tv types with cameras and lights descended on the city, which is not a usual stop on the celebrity grip 'n' grin circuit. Ramsay himself is said to be bunking in a glammed-up motor home parked down by the river, under surveillance by dozens of fans flashing cameraphones.

Greeting the fans

As soon as Ramsaymania ebbs somewhat, Peggy and I will drive on up to HdeG to prowl through the antique stores and what-not shops again, but it looks like it's hard to park there now with all the Food Network fans thronging the streets. Soon, the hubbub will be but a hazy memory, which is why we like antique stores.

Printer Error

 In 14-hundred something, Johannes Gutenberg invented the printing press, adapting the process of German wineries in which grapes were squeezed with a mechanical squishing press to turn them into wine. It was just a simple matter of putting letters in place and squeezing ink onto paper with them.

In 1876, Baltimore's Ottmar Mergenthaler invented the movable type type of printing press. His machines were the size of small Buicks, and enabled newspapers to be printed by the millions and delivered by people driving Buicks.

"Hold the press!" said Gutenberg.

There's a fine vocational high school here in Baltimore, dedicated to teaching people a worthwhile trade. It's appropriately named Mervo Tech, formally Mergenthaler Vocational Technical High School.

It says here that if you found Gutenberg's original press, or the first Mergenthaler linotype machine, with a little WD-40 and a dust cloth, you could get them up and running in a jiffy. Whereas, the printer I bought for my desk PC just a couple of years ago gave up the ghost yesterday. Told to print something, it gave a "out of paper" signal, even though the print tray was stuffed with papers like a congressman's wallet.

I un-installed and re-installed it. I plugged it out and plugged it in. I cleaned the paper feed rollers. I tried an online analysis (result? "No problem") and I talked to it nicely, all to Noah Vale.

The new one was to be on our porch between 4 and 8 this morning. Full circle moment, if a Mervo guy delivers it in a Buick. 

Let's see if it lasts a couple of years.

Wedge Shot

I'm sure you remember your PE Teacher, mother, or drill sergeant telling you, "It's all fun and games until someone gets hurt."

"All the fun and games" we're talking about here is, of course, the grand custom of giving wedgies, the traditional greeting among young men of breeding. 

But here's a case of when it did, indeed, go too far, and someone was fatally hurt.

It was in Oklahoma that an ex-Marine pleaded guilty to the killing of his 58-year-old stepfather. He admitted giving the older man an “atomic wedgie” following an argument.

Brad Davis is the former Marine. He said Denver St. Clair "jumped him" after the two spent an evening belting down the hooch at their Oklahoma home.

According to court papers, Davis “grabbed St Clair's underwear and gave him an atomic wedgie...allegedly pulled the elastic waistband of St Clair's underwear over his head and around his neck.”

Amy Elliott, Oklahoma's Medical Examiner, labeled the cause of death as "asphyxiation and blunt force trauma." She said the elastic band was stretched too tightly over St Clair's neck.

Davis testified that the whole thing started when St Clair began verbally attacking his ex-wife Tressia, who was Davis's mother.

 

St. Clair (l) and Davis.

I remember, as a child, deducing that at some point beyond their adolescent years, people grew up and behaved as members of an orderly society should. Time after time, that notion has always disappeared like an ice cube on a hot skillet.

Sunday rerun: R you kidding me

 Here in seafood country, we have a saying: "Oysters 'R' in season" - to remind us that fresh oysters are plentiful in all months except those without an R in them - May, June, July, and August. 

Come September 1, we'll all be in an oyster stew!

But R is an important letter in many words and it should never be left out. F'rinstance, in New Mexico, which many people think is a foreign place to begin with, there is an enchanting city called Albuquerque.

And as hard as it is to spell now, think of how it used to be! The city's website will tell you,  there used to be another R in there. The website informs us that it was King Philip, the King of Spain, who granted permission in 1706 for some colonists to start a community down on the banks of the old Rio Grande river.

By way of thanks, the governor of the colony, Francisco Cuervo y Valdés, wrote an email to the Duke of Alburquerque in Spain to tell him he had a burgeoning city named in his honor: La Villa de Alburquerque. No one is even sure where they got that tongue-twisting name, but one school of thought says it's from the Latin "alba quercus," meaning "the white oak."

Later on, the first R was dropped because so many fifth graders couldn't get Alburquerque right on tests, and neither could their parents and half of the city officials, so they decided to go with "Albuquerque." 

But not even that simplified spelling was within reach of the highway sign shop, where the New Mexico Dept of Transportation proudly put up a new sign showing drivers the road to "Albuqueque."

The sign was placed on Route 66 and I-40.

Kimberly Gallegos, a department spokesperson said it didn't take long for people to call and email about the error. “I do not recall this happening before,” Gallegos said. “But I honestly think this was just a simple mistake.”

And she said a corrected sign went up already, so all is well in Albuwhatever. 

The Saturday Picture Show, March 8, 2025

 

This Italian lamb-transporting operation has burroed in for a wooly future.

A weird thing happens to me more often than I like...I'll have a fleeting thought of someone (a friend or someone famous) I haven't thought of for a long time, and soon thereafter I find that person has gone on. You know what I mean. So maybe I should start reaching out when it's a friend, and

Peggy starts her morning every day with a coffee and some time on the front porch...enjoying the nature sounds, chatting with passersby, watching birds and squirrels, and shivering a lot. Then she's back inside for hugs from the cat, and breakfast.

1967 was the Summer Of Love, and Arthur Lee's band was getting ready to release their third album "Forever Changes" that November. This billboard announced the news to their waiting public. Sales were well under what they hoped for, and the band's popularity waned because they refused to perform outside of Los Angeles. What might have been...

I thought this was a terrific cIose-up of a cat. Turns out, it's a terrific pencil drawing of a cat by a Spaniard named José Jurado Sanz.

Warning:  you can never, ever, tell this man a secret.

I love this concept of drawing the shadow, not what made it.

People thought the problem with records skipping and getting scratchy was solved until the first person bought one of those new-fangled tape cassette machines, pressed play, and saw a few dollars' worth of tape shooting out all over the place...

We caught lots of Eastern Box Turtles down by the creek as kids. You would think they would have learned not to hang around there. 

It's oh, so easy to laugh at ourselves.  The hard part is learning to laugh at Phil Collins.

Limeade

I once heard a kid call limes "green lemons," but they’re different.

Whether or not we straighten out this tariff situation with Mexico, that nation will still observe their Cinco de Mayo on May 5. That's the day in 1862 when Mexico defeated France  at the Battle of Puebla during the Franco-Mexican War. 

It's a relatively minor holiday in Mexico, to be precise, but Americans are always looking for a reason to break out the Tiki torches and have a par-tay. And that means margaritas for a Mexican theme party, and if those tariffs go into effect. As it is, grocers always jack up the price of limes when the calendar flips over to May, as soon as they finish counting all the money they just pocketed by raising egg prices for Easter. 

So, while your party host is leaving a tip jar on the bar to offset the price hike, you can entertain your fellow revelers by telling them that lemons float in a tub of water, while limes in the same tub will sink, and here's why...

Limes are slightly denser than lemons. Your physics teacher would tell you the lime's mass is more concentrated by volume. That makes your average Louie Lime heavier, relative to size, than Lefty Lemon.

Enjoy your margaritas 🍹! 

Béisbol

 Ah! Baseball is in the air, with spring training going on. In the day, ballplayers had to have off-season jobs, selling used cars or men's suits at Robert Hall or teaching history, and then they would show up in Florida needing to sweat off the suet they had packed on at countless Cub Scout Blue And Gold banquets.

Today's ballplayers don't need extra income, and if they do need a quick buck, they can turn some by scribbling their signature on photos, bats, and balls.

Spring training now is not what it was in the 1950s. And neither is the USA's relationship with our neighbors south of Florida, the exotic island, Cuba. Until their 1959 revolution, which overthrew the dictatorship of Fulgencio Batista, Cuba was a vacation destination for Americans, and ballclubs would jot down there for exhibition games.

There was that odd period just after Batista had been deposed...American teams were still going to Havana, but the revolutionaries came to the stadiums. 

And so it was, in 1959, that the Los Angeles Dodgers flew the 90 miles south to play the Cincinnati Reds..blue and white meeting red and white, with green-clad army guys ready to pose. Revolutionary leader Fidel Castro loved baseball and bragged that he was being scouted to play in the majors...which was more brag than fact.*

But what's a revolution without photo opportunities, so genial Reds outfielder Pete Whisenant gladly posed for a display of mixed weaponry...

It must have been hot that day. Pete looks totally baked.

* extra credit question: can you name a young man from Queens who played for his prep school team, became a flamboyant real estate mogul, and later served as president of the US, all while claiming to have been the #1 sandlot player in all of New York? https://slate.com/culture/2020/05/donald-trump-baseball-high-school-nyma.html

Half a Rock

 I freely admit, when Kid Rock came along in the early '00s, I thought his music was good. I like innovative music. Mr. Rock brought country music to hip-hop and tossed hard rock into the salad, and the mix was good. 

Even when his image came into sharper focus, and what seemed to be a scruffy street kid was revealed to be the son of a major auto dealer from Michigan, he still seemed cool for a while, but as the years went by, he turned into an unbearably hostile man, shouting more invective than lyrics.

He sings of lusting after young girls, he spews homophobia, and he generally acts like a maladjusted idiot.

All across the world, people seem to be so starved for entertainment that, if the real entertainers are not available due to old age, infirmity, or incarceration, imitators take the stage and hobble their way through impersonations of people most people already forgot.

It reminds me of The Simpsons episode in which Krusty opens a third-rate camp and, instead of serving gruel to the kids, he doles out Krusty BrandⓇ Imitation Gruel.

So, naturally, there's a Kid Rock tribute performer. 

If you’re interested in having this performer work his magic at your saloon, I'm sure he's available any night but May 16.

For a swim

If you ever want to get a lot of opinions churning in the air, here’s a topic that will get things going. It's more controversial than regular vs. decaf, vanilla vs. chocolate, grits vs. Home fries, and "versus" vs "verse," which is particularly concerning to me.

The topic is anchovies. To the bewilderment of all, Peggy and I both love those salty little fish. Pizza chefs and servers always give us the fisheye when we order one with extra cheese, sausage, and anchovies. Servers have even told us that the kitchen crew gives them a hard time for turning in an order for that tasty pie.

And many restaurants will offer a salad with Caesar dressing, but they durst not call it a Caesar salad (more in a minute). And if you ask for anchovies, they act like you requested 14 "carrot" gold flakes on your salad. 

To make a proper salad, you need romaine lettuce, croutons, and a rich dressing, which would contain olive oil, raw egg, Parmesan cheese, Worcestershire sauce, and a dash of lemon juice.

And, for pity's sake, give anchovies a try next time you strap on a salad feedbag. Attempting to cajole a friend into signing up for the We ❤️ Anchovies club, I told him I like to arrange 4 or 5 of them on top of a salad in such a pattern that suggests an entire school of them swimming in a hurry to join the lettuce, tomatoes, cheese and dressing in my bowl.

At least, he said he'd think about it! 

Sounds like...

 Right out of nowhere, someone used the word "quisling" the other day, which might have sent some readers to their Funkin' Wagnalls dictionary to see what it means.

Ok, full disclosure,  the someone was I, and full explanation, a quisling is a word used for someone we who betrays their country and their fellow citizens. The eponym salutes, or, more appropriately, damns, the name of the leader of Norway in World War II, Vidkun Quisling, who collaborated with the Nazis even as his country fought them.

Funny thing about eponyms, which is what we call it when a name becomes a noun. Sometimes it just fits! Imagine if the guy who invented a tool for loosening nuts was named Harry Wrench! Or if the first person ever to heap lettuce, tomatoes, and whatnot was Susan Salad!

That's how life works. Some words are just ugly-sounding ..."cancer"..."agony"..."school shooting"..."quisling."

It's also remarkable when an ugly soul has an ugly name.

A quisling if ever there was one.

Sunday Rerun: Vacation, all I ever wanted

  I don't know much about current music, but I know Olivia Rodrigo is popular in that field, so good for her. She's a strong, smart woman at 21, and I was thoroughly impressed to read that she has a question she always asks guys on a first date.

Here's the question:  “I always ask them if they would want to go to space.”

Warning to potential Olivia daters: give the wrong answer, and there is no second date.

Hint to potential Olivia daters:  “And if they say yes, I don’t date them.”

And I love her explanation:  “I just think if you want to go to space, you’re a little too full of yourself.” 

It's rare to find a young person whose attitude matches mine perfectly, but really, she does in this case. For all I know, that's all we have in common, philosophically.

This is just my thinking, and yours is probably different, but there is a lot to see and do here on what we still call Earth. There are sights to look at and music to hear and art to appreciate and food to taste and the lovely aroma of cheese bread baking. None of these treats are available in space, except for the music, if you take your MP3 player. 

I understand it makes me an outlier or even an outcast, but as far back as I can remember, I didn't see the point of men walking on the moon while women were back here doing worthwhile things. You go to the moon, you get moon rocks, but if you go to the beach here, you get rocks tumbled to pretty perfection over the years in Davy Jones's locker AND you get some of the greatest pizza in this world, and a chance to get a nice tan. 

And the trip home from the moon? Not a WaWa in sight, so you just have to hold it til you get back.

Go ahead, go to the moon. Olivia and I will miss you a lot.

The Saturday Picture Show, March 1, 2025

 

Everyone knows you can get wet while surfing. Apparently, you can get splattered on as well.

This is the part of a day at the beach when all the parents are hollering that it's time to pack up.

I'm hoping for one more snow this winter. It's only March!

I always will.

I wish more people would read and follow these words.
Red shed, red pickup, blue water.

It's almost cherry blossom time in DC!

For your spring dessert offerings, we bring you the basis for the Bart Simpson shortcake.

You see, children, before we started hanging TVs on the walls, we sat them on tables, which are now for sale at Goodwill.

We're over the hump of winter now! Meteorological spring starts today!