Existing In BFE

ON VACATION It's been about three months since I took a week off so I'll sign off till Monday, March 2. {I'm about to run out of material.} I may try to find those lovelies up in the picture and see if they will take me on as their 4th. {Fat chance.  Having never skied in my life I doubt if I could even carry their swimsuits.} Have a great week and if you think about it, return in March and we'll see what is happening here in BFE. {I know this disrupts the morning routine of a couple loyal readers, and for that I am sorry.  Like you I like a routine, too, and when I don't get it, it seems to throw my universe into chaos.  Like Churchill once said, "If you are going through Hell, keep going."  I'm not equating a week without Existing In BFE to Hell, but then how else could I serve great Churchillian bon mots?}

This beauty was my first car.  I forget how much I paid for her, I want to say $100 but it could have been more.  I have simply forgotten.  I got it from a guy in Aledo.  I think it was a Mr. Morehead.   When the experiment with sharing the Nova failed, and unable to secure the 63 Chevy Impala my grandfather owned, I simply took matters in my own hands and bought this lovely old Volkswagen.  And when I say antique,  it was pretty old when I bought it.  It was a 1957 model, and is most evident when looking at the rear - it has a small oval window.  These early bugs all had the small rear window and, today, these are worth quite a lot of money.  The first generation Bugs sold in the US were split-window.  Mine was a second gen and of I'd held onto it the average retail is around $12, 500 and depending on condition can go as high as $24, 000.  But then I wasn't concerned about which generation it was, small window or not, I had my first wheels.  I had other things on my min

There are racquetball courts here at Bedlam.  They are half open to the elements and not used very much.  Norah and I took Bry in here often and tossed the tennis ball around so she could chase it and get some exercise.  This morning, while in a funk, I took the ball and was going to toss it around a little but discovered the place was already occupied. This view is from the outside window looking in.  Clear in the far corner I saw a blanketed fellow or fellow-ess sleeping.  That sooty dirty stuff at the bottom is a kind of grunge on the window.   This is a cropped version of the above picture.   After I got over the OMG-ness of it all, my philosopher side kicked in and began to reflect on the haphazardness of life.  The first 25 years of my life began in the small town of Seaton with my folks.  The final 6 years were mostly just habitating bedspace during the summers because of college and grad school, but it was still home nevertheless.  And in that small town, v

Going to the beach on nice calm sunny days is nice.  Going after a storm is just as plain exhilarating.  Last month after a particularly crisp blow around here we went down to Pass-A-Grille which is at the southernmost tip of the protusion some call home.   Look clear down at the bottom and you'll see Cabbage Key.  Pass-A-Grille is right above. Going early before the shell poachers is a requisite.  Churning seas often brings interesting sea shells onto he beach.  This first picture is not at night.  Frankly i have no idea, other than to say the camera was on Auto and the sensor focused on the foreground, thus blackening out everything else.  It is a fail, but an interesting one.   The rest of the pictures were better and I did some tweaking here and there, thus the differences.  Experimentation is fun but confusing.  How do you know what is the best setting until you actually get home?  Anyway, as the time went on I noticed that the

1.   They Are Here Remember last week I mentioned I saw a UFO fly over Bedlam?   Well, I saw another one the other day, must have been last Friday morning.   That is the complex right across from me and I was taking a picture of the jet heading into the sun, which you can just barely see if you look close enough.  By the way, the building on the right is the racquetball courts that Norah and I go and play "Fetch the Tennis Ball."   I grabbed my iPhone and quickly snapped a picture because I liked the whole jet trail and sun thing.  Just as I did this craft came into view.  It seemed to have a particular coloring around it like some kind of energy propulsion field.   It was saucer shaped, with upper and lower structures.  It even had some kind of antenna protruding from the upper section.  It hovered briefly, quietly, then in a nanosecond sped off toward the Love Toys adult shop across Route 19 next to Bedlam.  Maybe some Valentine's day shopping for that spec

Today we revisit the morning picture taking attempt to capture Comet Lovejoy started last Monday.  By now I have left the lonely gravel road near Parrish, Florida and the Skyway rest, and travelled to the Gulfport pier.    The sun was coming up and I had failed to capture Lovejoy.  But I was able to get some fairly decent pictures of a sunrise and felt that that helped soothe the pain of failure.  Thanks as always for coming along for the ride. 

This is Jeanette Sizemore.  Everyone called her Jan.  I called her Sizeless. We met when I was a graduate student in Denver and it was a rather unlikely pairing.  She was quite proper, perhaps more uninitiated in more base subjects, and also quite shocked when I'd do or say something of a "untoward nature".  The school was aligned with a seminary, Iliff School of Theology, so we had some good old go-rounds about all that stuff.  Having just graduated with a degree in Philosophy I'm sure her conservative religiosity didn't always meld together with my thoughts on the subject.  She firmly believed, like many, that accepting Christ as your savior is your ticket to heaven while I thought it was a convenient trump card in order to do whatever you want here on earth.  I told her she was full of it, and she said I was going to Hell.   But this isn't about our particular beliefs one way or the other.  It is about a friend who helped me succeed so far fro

Maybe not quite like Harper Lee's lost novel, Go Set A Watchman , but I happened to come across some Halloween pictures that I'd forgotten about.  For those who can't get enough of Miss Norah, then this is a treasure.  For those who couldn't a give a hoot then today is a lost day , maybe akin to finding out Jon Stewart is leaving.    Princess Norah alternated between being shy and forward when she made stops for candy around the neighborhood.  It didn't really make sense, but she would be hung-ho, then retreat.  It is what one should expect of a young lady, I suppose, when doing something as weird as Halloween.    She is still holding onto her realm.  She approaches you and asks your name.  I respond, "Papa."  I ask what her name is, and she responds, "Princess Norah of Arendale."   We will find out her ability to adjust to current events as she will have to step aside from the spotlight when the newest

If I asked you if you ever heard of a 2-door station wagon you might look at me incredulously.  Or you may shrug your shoulders saying something along the lines of, "I don't give a shit."  The above beauty with antique plates is a 1977 Ford Pinto.   Saw this guy walking by in an animated conversation with someone or something invisible tagging along.  He was talking and waving his arms like he was in a juicy argument.  That wasn't the only thing.  Apparently he left home without his shoes, too.  For sign aficionados like Mr. Sutor this may be noteworthy.  If you weren't sure this was a laundry you will be when you read it twice.   Came across an aunt hill that seemed pretty good sized.  I put one of my flip-flops next to it to give you some perspective.  Then I stirred them up a little.  It pissed them off.  I don't usually go around messing up wildlife, but one bit Norah a while back so it was payback time.  

1.   2015, So Far You Suck I'm not going to spend a lot of time on this, it's just too painful.  Bry was unable to overcome her separation anxieties and went back to her rescue organization.  The final incident was the bloodied, eaten blinds.  She was a wonderful pooch and I will miss her, and that's all.  I'm shelving forever all future attempts to find my best furry friend.  Somewhere MINS and Missy weep. 2.   Things You Should Do More Gently When You Are My Age In a weirdly bad pic, these are wounds I suffered whilst attempting the manly sport of tennis.  I used to play once in a while back in college and so I erroneously thought I could fly across the court like the olden days, only to discover my wings fell off a few years ago.  I went down like a shot hippo.  It stung for a day or two and I garnered much empathy from Norah, but as I write this on Sunday morning, I am preparing to go back out again, as my partner, Drew, is salivating at the cha