Thin air kills brain cells

We mountain dwellers tend to despise heat, so it is natural that we head off to Palm Desert with two other mountain dwelling families in late July for a week of vacation. Monday is supposed to be 114 degrees. Sounds like a good day to head off to legoland and cool off in the sub 80 degree weather.

Row, row, row your boat.

I have frequently wondered about the logic of heading to "the lake" for the day. I have always thought that being confined to a shadeless expanse of blazing sun was a form of torture reserved for international terrorists. I am not talking about fishing. Spending the day fishing makes sense to me, but just hanging out at the lake has often baffled me, so when one of our daughter's friends decided to have his birthday party at Lake Mary complete with canoes and kayaks, I feigned enthusiasm, dreading baking under the 95 degree sun for 3 hours. Besides, I had not paddled a canoe in over 20 years. Anyway, Saturday we headed off to the lake for a day baking in the sun for three hours. The result: After 5 (3 was not enough) hours paddling canoes and kayaks in the sun I have concluded I WANT A CANOE, I WANT A KAYAK, I WANT A TRAILER OR RACK TO HAUL SAID TOYS TO THE LAKE. I WANT A CANOE OR KAYAK. I WANT A KAYAK OR CANOE. I WANT BOTH! I WANT BOTH NOW! I am also pissed off that nobody ever told me that a day at the lake is fun. Nobody told me that one simply ignores the heat and sun. (is this enough sarcasm?) Maybe somebody could profess that there is logic in heading to "the lake" for the day.

This better not last long

How hot is it?

1) So hot that the Phoenicians stay in the valley because it isn't worth the drive

2) The fish are fried right out of the lake

3) People head to the kitchen because they can't stand the heat

4) The folks in Flagstaff complain about the heat

Aging Dog And New Trick

This evening, our daughter became bored and wound up putting on her inline skates, heading off to the road with Patty and practicing skating. I took the hint and put mine on as well. The idea of strapping wheels on ones feet never made sense to me as I am more of a metal blade on a boot guy, but I have a pair of "eBay special" inline skates for just such an occasion. The problem is that my inline skates have no brakes, thus I need to do a power slide to stop. Err, learn how to power slide to stop. Err, learn to power slide on asphalt to stop. Err learn to power slide on asphalt on a slight downhill grade in the dark to stop. Oh, what the heck, I'll just spin and change directions, or coast until the downhill becomes level. I'll learn the power slide some other day.

Life Is A Cartoon

This morning as we were tooling along Mountainaire Road on our way to town, Mr. Wile E.Coyote traipsed across the road about 25 yards in front of our car. I have frequently heard the mangy doggies yipping in the evenings when I am on our back deck, and have seen an occasional one in fields beside highways, but have never seen one on the roadway itself. Let alone that close to houses. I was reminded of a year or two ago when our daughter spotted a roadrunner (yes, it really was - papa and daddy saw it too) near our house. This was unexpected as they do not usually hang out at this elevation. I guess I'll have to wear one of my (in)famous cartoon ties come payday to celebrate. That and avoid cliffs. And anvils, and anything made by the Acme company. In any event we continued with trepidation just in case there were phony panoramas or "instant hole" residue along our path. Beep Beep!

I hope He Wasn't Called Home Without It.

Okay, Okay Johnny, I understand you need to get a show together, but you already had your announcer and two guests. Do you really need a pitch man for the ads, a comedian, and a tried and true veteran actor? I hate to admit that I thought Karl had already passed, but I have been proven wrong. Do they take the American Express Card in the afterlife? And will The Streets of San Francisco ever be safe again?