Steel Kaleidoscopes

My Dogs

We don't have a dog now.

But I love dogs.

They're so much more friendly than cats, which always seem like they're in a bad mood or going through their menstrual cycle.

My first dog was Ladybug, a Boston Terrier. I was just a little kid, so I don't remember her that well. I seem to recall she was cranky, but it's probably because I teased her.

My second dog was Nicky, a mangy gray poodle. He overlapped with Ladybug for a year or two and I think they got along OK. Nicky had an odd personality, but was a loyal dog.

My third dog was Leonard. He was one of the eight puppies produced by Suzy, the friendly, outgoing neighborhood dog (she would follow us everywhere on our 10-speeds). Leonard was fun. He barked a lot, but that's probably because he spent a good deal of time on a rope attached to the backyard clothesline.

I loved those dogs.

Maybe someday we'll get another dog.

The timing will have to be right.

The Rope

We line up to wait our turn, the gnarly horsehide rope dangling for the next 12-year-old.

Standing on the slippery wet rock, the late August sun bakes our bodies.

We swat the mean green horseflies that land on our toes.

Crashing splashes penetrate the still summer day, relief from the heat and humidity.

Like a pendulum, the rope swings back and forth, empty toward the rock, with a body over the water.

The rope.

Lyrics of the Day

"I met a girl who sang the blues and I asked her for some happy news, but she just smiled and turned away."

— Don McLean, 1971

Summer Haze

The sun is more sluggish these days, rising later, taking those few extra minutes before peeking over the horizon.

The sun seems more tired in the evening, retiring earlier, its dimming brilliance filtering through the trees as we bounce on the trampoline.

The mornings are cool and the evenings are chilly, those sun-splashed July endless summer days fading fast in the rear-view mirror.

The wine glasses no longer sweat and the beer stays colder. The music seems louder in the clear evening sky. Perhaps it's the absence of the buzzing dragonflies.

The horses are winding down the meet at Saratoga, the jockeys thinking of Belmont.

It's late August and we're thinking about Halloween.

There's still some summer, but we know it's not much as we look at a new backpack, lunchbox and pencil set stacked neatly in the corner. 

WLS, Chicago - 1972

The most music, WLS Chicago. That was Climax, with "Precious and Few."

Partly sunny and mild this afternoon...

Phyllis Diller

No disrespect to the Diller family, but did anyone think Phyllis Diller was still alive?

God bless her soul.

Quote of the Day

"Tomorrow is a thief of pleasure."

— Rex Harrison, Actor

Fifth-Grade Gym

White socks pulled up high with purple Converse.

Chin-ups. Do 10!

Situps. C'mon, 50!

Rope climb. Dodgeball. Kickball.

A line at the water fountain.

Dream

Think big. Reach high.

Lyrics of the Day

"It's all a game, 'cos inside I'm just the same. My fried egg makes me sick first thing in the morning."

— Pete Townshend, 1973