Friday, June 23, 2023

Fox News Slipped Up...

...and accidentally told the truth.

Of course the fascists in charge at Fox immediately apologized - but not to their dwindling audience - they've been hemorrhaging viewers ever since they fired Tucker and are apparently fine with that.

No, they virtue signaled to their comrades in the state run media, assuring them the situation had been "addressed".

Nothing to see here, folks - just a minor revolt by one of the proles, quickly crushed and the offender dispatched.

To be clear, that 100% true chyron was quite intentional...a now formerly employed producer wrote and displayed it - deliberately.

He then "resigned", and was escorted out of the building, posthaste.

To see Tucker Carlson's brilliant take on this, go here:

Pray for what's left of our constitutional republic.

In The Twins Report, my co-worker states "...the boys are making progress, but there are bumps every step of the way".

On the plus side, they continue to gain weight: after making their entrance into the world weighing less than 2 lbs each, they're now topping the scales at 4.7 and 6 lbs!

Unfortunately, concerns over their eyes remain, and one of them shows signs of what the doctors call a "grade 1 germinal matrix hemorrhage".

Not sure what that is, but it sounds ominous and was apparently important enough for the doctors to mention it as a problem they're monitoring.

Please continue praying for these babies, their parents, and the doctors and nurses working round the clock to save them.

Recently celebrated Father's Day, and I hope it was a good one for every paterfamilias roaming the countryside out there.

Some of my clan stopped over for fun, food and fellowship:

grandkids playing bean bag toss

Karen worked her usual magic in the kitchen, I manned the grill - a very complicated task involving waiting for the flames to cook a mess of hot dogs - and everyone at least appeared to enjoy themselves.

2 granddaughters even asked if they could putt on my greens, so #4 son and I walked them around Ryan's Hickory Golf Course.

I told him if this keeps up, we'll be watching them play in the Meijer LPGA classic one of these days.

Wouldn't that be cool?

And speaking of golf...

(see what I did there?  pretty smooth segue)

...I've run up the white flag of surrender re: my brassie.

A chunk of wood broke out of the heel my first week out this year and I've been repairing it  - and it's been breaking again - each week since.

I'm not blaming the damaged club for my lousy tee shots; my inability to hit a hickory wood with any consistency has been well documented in this blog for years.

But missing a substantial piece of my brassie didn't help anything, either, so I've switched to my driving iron for now.

Paraphrasing George McFly...

...apparently irons are my density...umm, destiny.

Not that my "woods vs irons" dilemma makes a huge difference either way; the missing ingredient in my golf game isn't club selection.

It's talent.

Just don't have much, so every swing of the club can be an adventure.

A recent example:

I began my round hitting a solid tee shot with my driving iron, followed by a great mid iron, then a perfect mashie to be on the green not too far from the pin.

Pulling out Calamity Jane, I expertly lined up the 13 footer...

...drilled it, pocketed my par and calmly strode to the 2nd tee.

"Self," says I happily, "this is going to be a great round!"

Ah, the charming naivete of the self-deluded.

Probably should have walked off the course right then, because the rest of the way was my usual mix of the good, the bad and the "what the heck was that?"

So when it actually goes well no one is more pleasantly surprised than I am.

And when it goes well for an entire hole? 

That qualifies as a mi'racle.*

Wish it was different - wish I had the talent my Dad and my little brother had back in the day - but sadly, it has ever been thus.

So what's the forecast for the rest of my golf season?

I'm rolling with a very light dusting of pars and bogeys, combined with a blizzard of double and triple bogeys.

And can't rule out an occasional snowman.

3 to get near the green, 4 chip over, 5 chip on, then 3 putt.
yep, that's a snowman ( 8 )

* mi'racle   noun
  mir-a-cle, | \ my-ra-kul \

 1. contraction of minor and miracle; pronounced "my-ra-kul".

 2. a very surprising but not supernatural occurrence, i.e., no laws of nature were broken during the production of this event.

e.g., miracle: me leaping over a tall building in a single bound.
        mi'racle: me carding a par.

Sorry to say, we've already passed the summer solstice...

...and while the usual collection of looney tunes gathered at Stonehenge to do whatever it is they do there, the rest of us enjoyed the start of (astronomical) summer and the longest day of the year…15 and a half hours ‘round these parts.

Approached 90 degrees here, lots of sunshine, and pretty much the perfect kickoff to summer.

Enjoy it while you can, folks...the days are officially getting shorter as we march inexorably toward Fall and then Winter (sorry...this is a family friendly blog so no cursing allowed).

Summer never tarries for long.

And on that cheerful note, let's boogie...

I'm exhausted just looking at this

...through some Parting Shots, shall we?

it never rains on this wicked land, so Buddy keeps an eye on the sprinkler

you always knew it, right?

queen of all she surveys

love tiger lilies, and bloomed on the first day of summer

a common complaint

the view from the command center...that's the Mistress of the Gardens in the distance

yucca plants in bloom

peace and serenity at Larry's cottage

peace and serenity, take two

Well, here we are...we've reached the terminus...

Montgomerey Clift called this "a big fat failure" (pretty sure he was talking about the film, not Jennifer Jones)

...and so we must bid you arrivederci.

Shut the door behind you and last one out, turn off the lights.

later, mcm fans...

* Crass Commercialism Corner *

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Sunday, June 11, 2023

Was Recently Sentenced... hard labor on the rock see before you the results.

Extended our hardscape all the way around (mostly in front) and planted some drought resistant juniper bushes.

We did so mainly because we gave up on ever growing anything that resembles green grass there.

Very sandy soil, and with the summer drought coupled with the Attack of the Killer Moles...

approach to my 4th hole...the green flags mark the mole traps

...we're all in on a Southwest style landscape now.

Throw in a few Saguaro Cacti...

...and voila!  um, I mean listo!  We're there.

Just passed the 79th anniversary of D-Day:


In my last Twins Report I mentioned both of the boys were dealing with ROP (retinopathy of prematurity), an eye affliction that can be serious.

Well, for one of them it led to eye surgery, which can mean some permanent loss of eyesight.

You can imagine the stress of this situation for the parents, and I tried to console my co-worker.

"This is very tough," I said, "but remember: champions are rarely chosen from the ranks of the unscarred.  You're going to be stronger for having endured this."

His telling reply?

"I never wanted to be this strong!"

We can all relate, can't we?

If you're married with kids, you're just trying to hold it all together...go to work, pay the bills, love your wife, raise your children.

You're not trying to be a hero; you just want everyone to be healthy and happy as you watch them grow up.

You know there will be tough times, but as much as possible you'd like to enjoy the years while they're still in your care...go to little league games or dance recitals, play catch in the backyard, teach them to ride a bike, read them bedtime stories, hug them when they're sad, laugh at the funny things they do and say.

No one willingly signs up for the kind of ordeal my co-worker and his wife are enduring, but in God's sometimes confusing plan, there it is.

It's too early, post-surgery, to know the extent of this issue, but the stress for both baby and parents is intense.

If you're standing on praying ground, please take a moment right now and ask for God's blessing on this situation...for healing, as well as for comfort.

In lighter fare...

...I and the tools of my ignorance...

...ventured forth in search of the answer to my "Bobby Jones or Ironman?" conundrum.

Putting it another way, do I keep my brassie, or use it for firewood and stick to my irons?

The answer is a definite "meh".

After puzzling over why I can hit my driving iron straighter and longer than my brassie, I came up with the brilliant idea of creating a "hickory hybrid":

I cut my brassie down from from 42" to 40", the same length as my driving iron, and it did help.

That, along with slight grip / ball placement adjustments, straightened out my least when I followed my "relaxed swing, lead with your hips, see the ball" mantra.

Distance improved as well, from 120 up to 155 yards, which for a gutty is not bad.

So my "hickory hybrid" brassie retains its place in my bag.

For now.

Does this mean I've finally ascended from the ranks of dufferdom to the glorious realm of competence?


Last outing I managed to par a couple and bogey a couple...

...but what happened on the remaining holes was an exercise in bizarre physics and higher mathematics that shouldn't be discussed in polite company.

We soldier on.

And now for a little bit o' this & that...

Mr. B caught in the act in our hardscape

"Heav'n has no rage like love to hatred turn'd, Nor Hell a fury like a woman scorn'd."

- The Mourning Bride, by William Congreve

this baby blue jay perched on the metal artwork in our courtyard for awhile before flying away on wobbly wings

started a recent round on my backyard golf course with a hole in one.  if I can just do that IRL...

...but it won't be on the first hole of the course I'm playing now; that's a 400 yard par 4.

beautiful blend of moon and dock lights at Larry's cottage

moonlight over our pool

gorgeous white peonies by our back patio

Already approaching mid-June, folks...summer is in full swing now and racing past our outstretched arms.

Grab it before it slips away!  Seize each moment and make it memorable.

Back Yard
by Carl Sandburg

Shine on, O moon of summer.

Shine to the leaves of grass, catalpa and oak,
All silver under your rain tonight.

An Italian boy is sending songs to you tonight from an accordion.

A Polish boy is out with his best girl; they marry next month; tonight they are throwing you kisses.

An old man next door is dreaming over a sheen that sits in a cherry tree in his back yard.

The clocks say I must go - I stay here sitting on the back porch drinking white thoughts you rain down.

Shine on, O moon,
Shake out more and more silver changes.

later, mcm fans...

* Crass Commercialism Corner *

In the "so convenient you can't stand it" department, you can purchase my books on

Get your paperback books here:

Get your ebooks here: