HILARY MEETS GENN...PARTY AT MOBY DICKS...AND MORE ENTERTAINMENT THAN A THREE RING CIRCUS...

STEVE leads the Band, AND is a Harley Boy (Sin!)

GENN...hangs out with BIKERS! (OMG!)


Names have NOT been changed to protect the innocent since we find no one innocent among our Usual Suspects...





DYNA JOHN,

IS A BIKER...

just look at that shirt!

(*gasp)

LINDA...Ride's Bitch on Bikes...

and "likes it" (*drum roll)



HILARY - would rather be Ridden than Ride...

(giddy-up)



ALLEN - Can't find his Bike anymore...or even his tool for that matter (*shhhh... )

SO...LET'S KEEP DANCING....already...

For those that suffer Attention Deficit Disorder when reading my Blog...I'm developing a new format for this evening's adventure into the twilight zone....or more specifically, into Moby Dick's BAR and Grill.

So this is like a comedy hour..with Barnum and Bailey thrown in for good measure.... presented in smaller, more edible bites compliments of my sex starved and wanting to be bad to the bone most wayward quivering quill.

Please note, that there has been considerable poetic License taken at the expense of my friends and others here...so we shouldn't judge too harshly our fellow man...or woman.

...but hey, vanilla posts of joy and sunshine don't seem to be floating any boats lately, so let's see if sin, sex and insanity sell a little better today...

JOHN'S BIRTHDAY INVITE - Our Pal reached the downside toward 60, but instead of bringing out the black draped coffin, my pal Genn gives me a time and place where Steve and his band Cross Town Rockers are going to be playing this Saturday night...Moby Dick's on Highway 101...

...an establishment, by reputation, that truly invites Crackpots, Scallywags, Lady Godiva Wannabes, and Men who Behave more like Dogs than Doggies doo...but before the floor show begins...we must set the stage with our arrival to join our Group of the Usual Suspects.

THE DIVINE MISS GENN, QUEEN OF THE HOOCHY MAMAS....was already in full regale as live Rock & Roll brought the circus animals to the dance floor in droves. I was appalled to learn that my own little kitten Genn had been ordered to 'tone it down' before attending a recent 'Cop Shop' venue her hubby Steve's band had been contracted to serve...and wondered at this incredible warning aimed directly at the cross hairs of our not so innocent wild child?

Sure, Genn might be mistaken for a brazen huzzie by some stick in the muds, and is capable of drowning out a football stadium of screaming fans with one loud bellow at times; and after downing umteen shooters...Genn can show a proficiency for cussing that would make a pirate blush...and throwing ice and other objects of mass destruction on friends could become a little overboard...but the nerve of these folks to attempt to tame her behavior in anyway...revealed more about them...than it did about her.

Anyone who has ever attended a party filled with the 'boys in blue' knows this is the most raucous bunch of stud muffins on the planet...so the directive was probably originated through one of their 'wives' realizing they didn't need anyone around egging them on...which of course, Genn would gladly do...

...given the slightest hint of encouragement.

Last night, at the MOBY DICK'S venue, Genn was allowed the freedom of letting her ample cleavage show, her tattoos stand out proudly, her butt shake as inspired, her camera flash as frequently as a 60's strobe light show...and her mouth to run at will. Of course, she sometimes doesn't know when to 'quit' teasing, so occasionally someone will drop a hint that she might be annoying them...

That's what I love about this kid...and what is worthy to preserve.

Most people spend way too much of their life's trying to live up to some preconceived image of proper public behavior to win them special favor with the unkempt masses. Well, I have seen the masses over many years, and of lot of them at Moby Dicks and most of them are strange little creatures...and not worthy of trying to change a diaper over...much less a clearly developed personality.

GENNS southern belle New Orleans heritage, blended with the Street Smarts that developes from too many 'snorts or shooters', and scenes of debaunchery...(from back in the day) ...is uniquely delicious to behold, unequivocally entertaining...and anyone who says otherwise (minus her hubby Steve...) just needs to take a leaky boat, without a paddle, up an alligator and chigger infested

Louisiana Bayou swamp river, for all I care.

Sure, Genn could have been a famous Movie Star had she landed in Hollywood (as her personality was snapped up by Bette Midler for one of her BEST characters... millions went to Bette straight from Genn's natural personality) instead of Mayberry, but it is just as well she ended up here...as her warm heart has taken in 16 stray cats the good and proper people of Toledo have decided to 'drop off' (and run) near her home...in the middle of the night....who would otherwise perish without her

hugs and kisses and mews in their direction,

and she may be the best friend we could claim here as well.

Her heart is as big and warm as the Mojave Desert, and if a collection needs to be taken up to buy you a fridge someday...Genn would be the one seen arm twisting sworn misers out of their overly fondeled coin purses...to buy it for you! When people in hell want ice water...they will turn to Genn and she'll try to squeeze it

out of a volcanic rock if she has to.

Furs and feathers aside, when it comes to generosity of spirit and friendship...Genn would be your Huckleberry, as she is mine, no doubt about it.

HILARY WITH HER "BOY TOY" IN TOW...

NOW, HILARY is another of my most memorable and cherished friends... because she has a certain genius with the written word that has provided me endless hours of entertainment as I seek sinful thrills and chills through OPE and she provides it in abundance. What is OPE you ask?

Well, that is OTHER PEOPLE'S EXPERIENCES.

I've become way too much of a 'goody two shoes' in my old age, and I am married to Farmer John right now...instead of knuckle draggin Harley Bad Boy Allen...

so I have to live vicariously through others if I want to be exposed to wanton willys and shocking experiences ever again in my life.

Now as it turns out, her latest and greatest adventure for today ended up in Newport this weekend at the Beach House where she brought her new flame, and Boy Toy (about 15 years her Junior) Cameron, for a seaside romping adventure.

This fact of her present life can be blamed for the eventual squandering of my children's inheritence on gathering up a few Boy Toys of my own, in my old age, to tend to my entertainment needs as my boobs begin to droop to my waist like long flat cow ears, and I lose control of my bowels.

My daughter suggested that in Old Age I might be interested in living in a commune situation with a bunch of other old F'ers so we can watch each other's nose picking and staring into space episodes.

I say, "No way!"

I want to stay in my own home doddering around something a lot more 'tight' and hard if you get my drift..hanging below the knee boobs, butts and balls do nothing for me...but with enough fortune amassed through closing one more lousy loan a month...I think I can room and board a couple of Escorts...and even let em work on the side or on each other in their off time, should that float their booties as well.

My last days on earth should be filled with a that little spice of life, and you can keep your baby food and oatmeal...and the screaming in the night bed wetters too...thank you very much.

The minute I hear I am terminal,

I'm going to try all the designer drugs and candy wrapped booze I can find, and throw open my arms and legs to anything that looks like Brad Pitt or Marlon Brando even remotely through my nearly blind cateract eyes.

Allen has already promised he is going to check out before I do, and we have had to 'be good' for an awfully long time now, so I hope my inspirational pal Hilary will be around to further inspire me at every turn in the bumpy road ahead.

There's some old Waylon song about a good hearted woman in love with a two timing man...and that would be about Hilary. I have never met anyone who has met so many princes and shortly thereafter, found out they were 'toady froggies' for realzies...than Hilary.

Her wit and humor in the telling of these breath taking tales is all I need to get those fantasy 'weird dreams' going for a week.

Who could resist calling upon such a friend during the journey through a long marriage that becomes so 'ho hum' and 'predictable'...at times you want to scream, but not in reckless abandon and delight I can tell you that.

Someone who can help dredge up the hidden and secret life of every woman who still longs for a man that even remotely resembles a 'knight in shining armor' once in a damned while.

Some truths are self evident, and for those who would deny

such a secret life exists, I simply say..."Danielle Steel" and "Liar, Liar".

Except, Danielle Steel doesn't say things with quite the brute force honesty my Hilary does, and for that I will always be enternally grateful. Sure, Hilary has that innocent look of a school girl...like my sister Diane did, or my daughter Lindsay...

but you know those who look the most innocent and

up to NO GOOD most of the time, bless their hearts.

Now HILARY is not a careless crazy woman...no way, she's hooked on Mortgage Loans (and money) like me, works like a dog (as I once did) and is the best Mom to her articulate and completely normal son, Aram...and for the most part,

her secret hot tub escapades never come in the young man's view...but on those weekends when he is with 'Dad'...Oh My Glory Be to All!

The Devil is in the details baby, and hopefully..she'll be penning her own book before too long. Hell, I've lived with her friendship through at least fifteen chapters anyway.

...and in some things, HILARY IS A DOWN RIGHT WIMP!

She was giving me the 'power to the people sign' with Arm raised proudly, confidence spread all over her mug...and victory claimed, as she whizzed by on the Quad at a screaming 5 mph at least.

I almost broke down in tears for poor 30 year old Cameron as he patiently crawled around the main roads with her as she screamed in terror at a bump,

and sped up to 8 miles on the long and straights.

In fact, once Hilary breathlessly gave up the four wheeled beast she brought to it's knees with conquering glee...I told Junior to off road it up the West Trail before the twilight took over completely.

I think I saw a shred of gratitude in his eyes,

but they were a little glazed over as he's converting Hilary from the

clinking of ice in a glass to a more herbal recreational outlet...

so I can't be sure.

Anyway, HILARY and her Captain America Easy Rider doll...Cameron, joined us for the BIG SHOW UNDER THE BIG TOP OF MOBY DICK'S and just the thrill of having my two 'wild and crazy' gal pals in the same room at the same time,

almost sent me to the high wire.

THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH!

People, including us, spend hundreds if not thousands of Dollars to attend Big Ticket Concerts for Entertainment...

but I can assure you that nothing has ever made me laugh as hard and as long as I did that night without having a 'mood and mind altering' label on it.

THE DANCING HIPPOS

Folks, you all know I am no welterweight and on a song I can't resist, I gotta get out there and let people laugh at me as I boogey to the beat in my own world. Hilary, my pal is pretty tall and a big boned woman as you can see from the photo above...

but when this 300 pound each couple entered the dance floor, you could see the rest of the dancers take notice...then, they gave them a very wide berth.

Now, there once was an old cartoon of Dancing Hippos who were so light on their feet they were wearing tutu's...and this couple matched them perfectly.

He twirled her in circles, then went under her arm as she sort of twirled him, and it was classic swing dancing to a rock & roll beat with choreography challenging the National Champions from Dancing with The Stars, at least!

If one wasn't distracted by the fact that people weighing 300 pounds were as light as feathers on the dance floor,I would have given them first prize for their performance

even though the competition was great.

THE GET A ROOM COUPLE...

No kidding, even the most bleary eyed bloated drunk in the joint noticed the 'Get a Room' Couple...and they looked just as you would expect.

The Balding male with the Casper the Friendly Ghost look was the Man in Black that night, except for his brown Bruno Magli shoes of course.

the Black silk shirt and Freeman Hickey Linen Slacks didn't miss the calculating gaze of the so so blond with the best bod on the Bar Stool...scoping out who could most afford all the Black Russians her lushy little heart desired that evening.

No matter what the beat, these two clung together like two

pieces of bread with peanut butter in the middle, then sat on by yours truly...

except for the continual thrusts below the waist...

ever changing tempo with the music..fast or slow,

take your pick.

Now, Casper was obviously a tourist who had wandered in looking

for some action; he's adorned with just a hint of expensive

jewelry, and has his sleeve rolled up just enough to

make sure the Rolex logo is exposed...sort of an

"Yes, I'm rich...but not ostentacious" statement.

Being stone cold sober, as we habitually are, it is easy to take in the details and let the imagination wander recklessly. Lady Godiva was cute white trash of course, and she looked good melted into her Wal Mart jeans and see me, follow me, Fock me worn Slingbacks...and she had a headful of long,

thick blond hair to flouce around right at the moment of

feigned continal climax

at just the thought of digging through Casper's Wallet once he went to snoring.

"GET A ROOM" the Drunks sang out, and I suddenly noticed some sort of

sharp pain in both my cheek regions as I searched for napkins,

toliet paper, my sleeve or anything 'dry' to wipe the tears off

my face with every crazy thought I had about this couple.

I wondered how Casper would do if I ordered a dozen raw oysters for him?

Just a thought.

A MIDGET GIVES ALLEN A THRILL!

So Allen made it clear he didn't want to go in the first place, he was tired and sore,

but after a reminder that it was our friend John's Birthday, he relented, but wasn't going to enjoy himself any more than he HAD TO, that was certain.

...but good vibes, laughter, a floor show and good live bands tend to mess up those

boobing determinations somehow, so he was caught 'enjoying himself',

but he was not going to dance, 'damit'...and didn't!

Suddenly, Allen noticed a standing woman looking straight into his eyes, except that he was sitting down low in a folding chair.

She smiled cutely at him,

(well as cute as a fairly overweight midget can look) and

proceeded to hit on him with the veracity of Atila the Hun.

"Oh, nice to see you again," she sweetly said as if they shared some

secret passion of delightful reparte in another place, another time...recently.

"What?" He asked looking like she just handed him a turd and said it was candy!

She went on, now murmuring a little closer to his face, still frozen in shock...his mind racing...eyes darting...you could tell he was thinking,

"God Damn, I'm sure if I met a woman midget before, I would recall the incident!"

(By now I was worried that I was about to wear wet pants home as I was blowing veins in my neck from holding in huge guffaws of gut wrenching laughter...choking on cigarette smoke...and enjoying the spectical of watching Allen squirm under the implications of his adoringly attentive dalia recalling for him their apparently fond memories of a fleeting soul bonding in each others company...

...but I just couldn't break away yet, to run to the bathroom and unload two bottles of O'Douls Amber so I had to suck it up and be brave...hell no...I wasn't going to miss this... if I had pee my pants then dump a glass of ice water in my lap and pretend I dropped a drink right in the wrong place...accidentally...oops.

Now, Gaining his composure somewhat, Allen stammered, "Uh, I'm sorry, but WHERE did I meet you?" while leaning a little further back in his chair, as she moved in a little closer toward his broken nose, lucious thin lips, and

farmer John white beard...whoo hoo...

...all of which she was now eyeing with the intent interest of a hungry boa constrictor watching a baby mouse scurry into mouth's reach.

"Oh, you don't remember me?" she asked as her eyes grew rounder while she mustered up the little Shirley Temple look for him.

"Noooo...I'm sorry, I don't remember you..." he said in a way as to not offend, while still racking his brain at how in the hell he would not remember meeting anyone of her stature..even if it were 40 years ago..it should ring a bell in there somewhere???

Keep in mind that this 'little person was not little', her ass was about the size of mine, and so was her head...

but she had a waist, which is more than I can say for myself right now...(so if you have any vision of some petite little sweet thang...you can delete that from your memories hard drive right now...)

"Well," she replied in a thoughful way. "It might be nice that you don't remember me", as if she meant...I'm pretty hard for most people to forget because of my size...so you must have seen me for who I am and not my size...isn't that nice.

Trust me, I love my husband...but he is not that nice.

(Now my Kidney and Urinary Tract infection is giving me real pain...but do I leave the show just as the final climax is about to present itself...no freaking way!

I'll die right here on the floor I thought,

but I ain't missing this grand finale for nothing...)

Allen has now regained full confidence in himself and you could see the furrowed lines leave his forehead as if he was just injected with a big dose of botox.

He puts on his invisible Therapist cloak still leaning back in his chair, but with arms and shoulders thrust forward and in front of him (as if he was trying to disguise his Papa Belly when a pretty girl walked by) to prevent the still possible 'attack' of those protruding midget lips that make Angelina Jolies look paper thin... locking on his and devouring his entire head....at the slightest provacation...

so no sudden moves were going on by Allen either.

He had that deliberate slow motion movement one might have as they backed away from a coiled rattlesnake they stumbled on while hiking

...slowly, very slowly...no sudden moves...no reason to strike...

"Mmm," he begins, "WHERE did I meet you?" he queries in the same manner he would if asking someone "where are the car keys".

She answers beaming, "Right Here!"

You would have thought Allen was just informed he'd

won the lottery right then and there...now knowing he hadn't

lost his mind and memory, wasn't in the beginning stages of Alzie disease, wasn't a candidate for dementia quite yet...

"...but I'VE NEVER BEEN HERE BEFORE...so you must be mistaking me for someone else!" A Victory sweat broke out on his face at once.

Checkmate...

he thought, right up until she grabbed his hand lovingly...still letting the love shine from her eyes as if her knight in shining armor

had just returned from the Crusades...

"Oooohhhh, warm hands..." she cooed, "I LIKE warm hands..."

withdrawing his hand from hers ever so politely, he remained in Therapist mode as he scooted his chair backward and displayed the 'I'm getting up now.' body language every therapist and mortgage broker uses to indicate

"this session is over...next patient please".

Picking up on his unspoken "our relationship is over" indicator,

she gracefully questioned ,

"Maybe it's the Beard...?"

watching him closely seeing his reaction to his final last chance to

consider the tempting offer she had been proposing.

He stood firm in his resolve, and she moved on...

but that is not quite the end of Allen's popularity that evening.

Within minutes, a second candidate for his affection appeared

out of no where...at his side,

puckered up, and almost planted a big wet one on his cheek.

She appeared to have Downs Syndrome.

COUSIN... "IT"

Even though she was just a whisp of a creature, probably about 75 pounds of skin and bone stretched over a 4'10 inch height...she had a head of hair as thick as a Grizzly bear in the dead of winter, and it hung clear to her waist..

and just a little nose and buck teeth would

peek out now and again as she jerked around the dance floor just a few movements off beat no matter what song was being played.

"Tweaker" was my first...and eventually, my last thought of this entertainment venue...but something was just to 'familiar' about her to not keep attracting my attention and interest.

She wore a white, long sleeved loose fitting tunic that

hung almost to mid thigh over bell bottom jeans,

and finished with some berkenstock wannabe sandles and white socks.

She danced with a 40's something looking woman all night, who

did an interesting dance consisting of taking a side step with her right foot, moving her ample ass sideways as far as it would go, letting her ass sway back to neutral...and then take another step to repeat the ass swing over and over.

This unique style continued until she had side stepped around a full invisible circle, and the 'tweaker' sort of did the robot twitch and jerk within that invisible circle.

MUCH LATER, the Side step Ass swinger ended up on the stage, and had a surprisingly good voice considering she couldn't dance worth squat.

The Plot thickened as I asked the Divine Ms Genn..(now happily snockered and annoying our Birthday Boy to such a degree... he retired from his own party...) sitting next to me..."Who is the singer?" figuring she would know,

since her husband Steve is the Band Leader.

"Steve's Ex-wife" (and his son, Linn, the drummer's mom)

she replied as I interrupted her still tormenting John.

but I persisted, "...and who is the tweaker dancer with her...?"

"Oh, that is her sister...and who Steve fondly refers to as

*Cousin IT"*

BINGO! I thought...

now the 'familiar' of her made perfect sense!

THE DOGGIE DOO IT GUY

Now, this character started out on a downslide and it just went

below ground after that.

He stood about 5' 9" but boasted one of those big wide flat butts and square bodies women just can't hardly tolerate in their men.

Gimme a big pot belly anyday...but not a butt on a man that

makes you want to tell them to lay down so you

have can a checkerboard to play on.

To compliment this awesome attraction, the guy wears kakai colored shorts

that are too revealing of the flat ass, but look like flags waving in the wind

to just below his knees where his calveless legs are hanging down

tomeet two big flat feet.

The T Shirt covering his fat belly, that came in assorted rolls

(oh thank you God for my husbands big pregger belly)

that extended all the way around his back looked like something

only a dumpster diver could retrieve. It was unworthy of

even the Good Will to accept as saleable merchandise.

To top off his evening out attire, he wore a bandana

around his head, but never got it quite folded properly

so a pointed edge flipped and flopped around

as he lunged across the dancefloor, practically knocking people over,

...while his close together beady eyes honed in on the crotch of any woman stupid enough, or drunk enough... to be polite to this numbskull.

Song after song, His gaze never left the crotch, but his dance style did.

As he danced, mesmerized by the ladies undulating crotches,

he would move very close to them, sometimes touching them

with his crotch...and begin a ritual of humping them

very rapidly and giving it all he's got.

Anyone who has witnessed dogs screwing,

complete with their thrusting speed and their intensity of facial features...

as if in some sort of trance...

(usually only otherwise seen when dogs take a dump)

this fella was just a little too 'creepy' in every way thinkable.

Yet, through detemination, or by going commando as well...

woman after woman would dance with him at least once.

and what an interesting harem that turned out to be...

one decently attractive woman

(OK..as decently "attractive" as one can be sloshed to the gills)

appeared to have been a bolero dancer in another life.

One hand placed flat mid between her waist and crotch

(as if pointing to it for dog man's target area with all five fingers)

and the other arm flung into the air in such a manner

I had to look to see if there were any castanets clacking...

Her gaze was downward left, to the floor, and

I checked to see if she was about to break into a

Flamingo routine...but it just stayed the same...

...another woman had a butt just a tad more protrusive than mine,

but it was bigger and it started a lot higher on her body, but she was white...

and boasted a pair of legs like tree stumps, and hairy armpits she frequently revealed as she flailed away at some imaginary flies or something in the air...

but by her facial expressions, she was none of what I described.

She was the Belle of that Ball, and the Femme Fatale of the Year.

When she shook her bowl full of jelly, she was damned proud of it...

and when she returned the 'hump number' to Doggie Doo...

well, that was just a site to behold.

Then, there was the cockateil lady,

very thin, sorta like a 4 x 4 in stature with a long

thin face and sunken eyes with dark circles under them, blinking constantly...

and thankfully

she didn't smile much because she had missing teeth..but she had a

severe overbite so those 'blank spaces' peeked through now and then

when she had to breathe, and a hooked nose nearly

touching her top lip.

She looked so bored dancing with Doggie Doo,

in spite of his best efforts to arouse her under his spell,

she remained ever staring off into space,

thin arms flapping now and then almost as an after thought.

I wondered if Doggie Doo had blackmailed her

into dancing with his sorry ass...or what..

...perhaps she was his wife?

GRAND FINALE

By the time the last strings on the guitars were plucked, and the last drum stick sounded the end, it was way past

Allen's bedtime and he was more than ready to go following his harrowing experience at MOBY DICK'S THAT NIGHT.

The good-byes were rapid, as we bid adieu to our pals.

I was still in the 'recovery' process from this most entertaining adventure when I turned over the engine and a new 'symbol' appeared on my dashboard just as Allen was burrowing his own butt

into the warming backrest and seat for the ride home.

A quick reference in the owners manual suggested a potential problem with the electical or fuel delivery system...which was odd since I had just filled up my gas tank the day before and had not gone anywhere but to Toledo and home...

but suddenly noticed that I was on 'half empty'.

The manual said that if the gas cap was not properly secured, it could cause that odd caution symbol to light up...so Allen climbed from his warming seat and back co pilot position, and explored the exterior of the car, only to find the gas cap loosely laying on the receptical.

On Highway 101, before 1:30 am, at a place the police had visited three times that night due to complaints of loud music, about 15 gallons of gas was siphoned from our huge and obvious hummer...on the traffic side of the vehicle by some dimwit

with the genius of a savant pianest.

Now that was some Grand Finale!

CONCLUSION...

Now don't get me wrong about this, because it is all in good humor, but I got to thinking about how I always believe Allen and I, and Genn and Hilary, and some others are pretty wild and crazy people...maybe even suffering

borderline personality disorder...who knows???

...but I have to tell you that our Group, as nutty as we are...could not hold a candle to the performers I witnessed at Moby Dick's Dive

in any way. shape or form.

We were ALL like 'normal' and 'drop dead gorgeous' compared with some of the creatures lurking around Mody Dicks that night.

How could we be so mentally astute and aware of ourselves...

when so many others were not, I wondered?

...and then I remembered, none of us are from "Coastal Oregon"

...and inbreeding was not real big with our ancestors.

My cousin Vickie told me that this area was a big inbreeding nest historically, and now...I really understand what she meant.

I'll NEVER be ashamed to say "I'm from California" again!

I don't wanna go back to California,

but I am damned gratefulto be from there, now.

ZERO COMMENTS....

Well, since I got zero comments on my last Post, I guess it was either so true no one wanted to comment, so long...no one read it, or so gross no one wanted to admit they knew what I meant...or, maybe everyone is more busy than a one armed paper hanger lately...so we'll try something new...maybe something here will merit a comment?


Hope so, cause it gets depressing to find no posts on the family blogs for weeks when I check every day...no emails in my email box from the family or pals for months in some instances...and not even a one line comment on my Blog either. So if short is sweeter...let's do it that way and see what happens.

Just had to go to the Doctor for the second time this year! I never go to the Doctor...but seem to have a bad kidney and plumbing infection so a ten day antibiotic thing is going on right now, but the whole ordeal has worn me into being a slug...an uncomfortable slug and kind of grumpy too.

Lindsay is going to have a Birthday in a few days, I sent her a gift, but carefully poured through some antique and other stores and found her another unique present...by the time I got home, one of the items was broken...so now I have to 'give it to her' when she comes up here again (or me down there, depending on who can hold out the longest missing each other)...because I now realize how fragile what I bought is and don't dare ship it...and am mad at myself for not realizing that to begin with. Damnit.

Should I take photos of her present and post it on my Blog on her Birthday? Then, she can get it on her Birthday...but just not in person....just an idea.

William blew himself up...well, not up...but over a cliff yesterday. Instead of working on a "list' of things I gave him (and Allen) I would like done here and in the other properties...William was helping Allen get rid of some of the berry brush piles that have sprouted up all over the ranch...and need to be burned.

He was pouring gasoline on a dried up berry bush pile down by the lower shop and when he lit it...you would have thought a bomb landed. The pile exploded into flames and the power of it blew Will over the edge of that area into where the big tree stumps were shoved by the former owner.

He ended up with First and Second Degree Burns on his arms and face and had to go to Emergency. I haven't seen him since the accident yesterday, and Will isn't a whiner when it comes to pain, believe me...but even a small burn has made me miserable beyond comprehension...so hugs and prayers to Will.

Jordan made Toledo High School Cheerleader for the JV Team so she'll have lot's of Rah Rah going on for next year! They'll be practicing hard for most of the summer...Wendy is trying to keep them from ordering the most slutty looking outfits in the book (the other new Cheerleaders) but this should be a great adventure for Jordan and frankly, she is pretty shy in public so I was sorta surprised when she said she was going to try out.

Here's a photo of Emmie, Will and Jordan with Emmie Boo's FIRST SNOW MAN in front of their home on 'Snow Day' in Oregon....'firsts' are always fun...aren't they?

SURELY, one of the above is worthy of a 60 second comment at least?

THE MANY REWARDS OF LIVING A REALLY, REALLY LONG LIFE...CHAPTER ONE

OUR YOUNGEST SON, JOEY is about to embark on a new adventure...as a comedian!

He is making his debut at the Boise 'Funnybone' Comedy Club and is putting together his own 'material' and hopes to go out there and 'knock em dead'....but his only experience was on a Cruise Ship in January where he celebrated his marriage to Nicole with a honeymoon cruising the Gulf ...and where he participated in an 'open mic' session doing some 'stand up' comedy for the first time...which he admits was lacking in laughs (although he got several guffaws) due to his use of other people's material and his unpracticed and spontaneous delivery of it.

At this point, I need to tell you that our son graduated "Cum Laude" with an English Major in December, so he has the ability and knowledge to articulate better than most, any venue he desires...and our whole family has encouraged his comedic skills since he was a wee one. I also believe that he can succeed in anything he desires...even though the stage of Idaho is not well known for spawning new talent for some reason or another?

My greatest concern is that he not get discouraged if the Idaho folks don't find him as funny as he really is...after all, he has been living in the comedic capital of the world...LA, CA...for the past four years so the audience he knows is used to great cutting edge wit and dry humor, as contrasted with 'live entertainment starved' Idaho natives (as in Oregon) ...who might not 'get it' unless he slips on a banana peel on his way to the microphone!

Also, it took years for Tim Allen to 'become' Tim Allen, and although Joey is no stranger to the stage and performing (his punk band was pretty exceptional)...it is difficult to find the common ground in 'stand up' that is 'fresh'...and some are going to miss the punch lines by a mile no matter how rich or clever it is. So, I don't want him to get discouraged if he doesn't 'bring the house down' his first time out...then again, I'm his Mom...so maybe a little overprotective spirit is creeping in there too.

Inspired by Joey's new "hobby" career (to keep his busy nature occupied outside of teaching, adjusting to a new marriage and settling into the responsibilities of family life in Idaho with Nicole compared with the glitz of Hollywood Boulevard), I began looking at the humor in my own life...as it is...and decided to write about living life with 95 year old Aunt Faye for the past eleven years with some of the material she's unknowlingly provided.

Don't get me wrong, Faye is a wonderful person, and as independent as she can be... considering she is almost blind, totally deaf without her hearing aides, is very shaky so drops things constantly, is incontenent, and barely can walk...but in spite of it all, she has a great spirit and the will to continue on.

We've learned to adjust to living together pretty well, all considered, as one always does when faced with the inevitable...but doing so brings a wealth of material I hope will give Joe some ideas and memories to draw from, as it has me, and for others to consider their own dreams of a long life in all it's raw reality...from day to day. Enjoy!



Here is Aunt Faye in the Kitchen with Lindsay as Lindsay begins to prepare dinner...and Faye doubts her capability for doing it so has to come 'supervise' even though Lindsay is a working mother of four sons and a husband who enjoys the culinary arts with considerable gusto.




Faye has found something off camera worth 'staring at' so the fact that her picture is being taken means nothing.

Don't let this sweet face fool you...those dark eyes could 'stare down' a grizzly!



It must be nice to be completely 'oblivious' to all around you at times...as Aunt Faye is here totally focused on her food to the exclusion of all other chaos around her...

Not everyone has had the "experience" of living with babies, animals and really, really old people...but the Good Lord has seen fit to see me blessed with all of it...so I've made some 'observations' I'd like to share about what I've learned on a personal basis.

BABIES, DOGS AND REALLY, REALLY OLD PEOPLE GET TO 'STARE' AT THINGS AND PEOPLE FOR AS LONG AS THEY WANT.

Everyone else in between has had to learn that 'staring' is not polite...but babies are so cute when they stare at you with that look of "serious study" as if you are some sort of experiment gone awry it is easy to forgive them the intrusion.

Dogs 'stare' because it seems they are trying to figure out if you have a 'treat' in your hand or pocket and wonder what their chances are of getting it, I believe...or in anticipation of your movement from A to B so they can follow, get underfoot, or start frolicking directly in your path so you have to stop or go around them.

You can't really get irritated with that behavior because, after all, they are just 'animals'.

Then, there are the really, really old people and they stare. You grab a morning cup of coffee and open the newspaper at the table and begin a time honored wake up ritual by glancing at the events of the day...when suddenly you feel two steely eyes boring into the back of your head with such an intensity you begin to fidget a few minutes before you actually turn around to glance at where this intrusion of your serenity seems to be coming from...and you are surprised to find two beady, dark, unblinking and riveting eyes staring so intently... you wonder if their owner is contemplating your eminent demise with a hatchet?!

(Dangerous objects start disappearing from their easy reach, following some of these experiences, I can tell you that.)

"What?", blurts out of your mouth, but you won't be getting an answer to that compelling question. Really, really old people have no idea of WHY they are staring at you...but if you live with one of them, you can't help but remember to always LOCK the bathroom door.

No need to take the invasion personally because really, really old people stare at complete strangers in restaurants, at the doctors office, hearing aide center, and even at each other in Senior Centers. Problem is, unlike small babies...they are rarely very 'cute' while doing it.

When Aunt Faye is 'staring' at someone I remind her that it is not polite to stare at people, but there is always a 'risk' in saying that because she may blurt out loudly, "Well, he looks like a big, fat slob!" or, "I think she is wearing a wig." or, "She looks like a whore in that get up..."...so I have learned that when she is staring at someone, it is usually better to pretend I don't notice it...because the outcome is just too unpredictable.

REALLY, REALLY OLD PEOPLE GET TO RE-WRITE HISTORY....COMPLETELY AND THEN SWEAR IT IS ALL TRUE!

I don't think it matters much what mistakes we actually committed in our youth because when we get really, really old...we don't have to believe we ever committed a single error in our entire lives... and we can attest to the fact that we were never wrong or inaccurate in anything else...ever. I don't think God Himself is quite as "good" as an old person 'was' in every way...especially at calling every single situation correctly and taking full credit for every success accomplished by anyone they knew...even slightly.

In fact, it isn't even important that you ever knew or met the person as long as you heard of them once...to take credit for knowing the outcome before it began...because you were an amazing prophet that everyone listened to...as if hanging on every word you ever uttered...and obeying each directive without question..due to your remarkable 'wisdom'!

So when we become ancient and live in our own new world, unencumbered with actual facts, we can just re-write history to our own version, and none are cruel enough to actually dispute it...due to our many years on earth.

You want examples? I'll GIVE you examples....I've got a million of 'em.

Linda: "Aunt Faye, I am so proud of Lindsay and Jim for working hard to keep our company strong since we have moved in Oregon."

Aunt Faye: "Well, that's because I told them they better take care of that company if they got it or I doubt it would have come out ok." (Nevermind she has no clue of what the Real Estate and Mortgage business even is...and always encouraged us to go for that awesome job of her dreams...the brass ring of life...by becoming a secretary or in servitude the government!)

Linda: "I think it is really great that David received so many awards for being at the top of his class when he graduated from the Police Academy."

Aunt Faye: "Well, that is because I told him he had better work hard and go to the Police Academy so he can make a decent living and support himself since he quit that Federal job." (Nevermind she didn't even know David was in the Academy for months after it started and asked me about his Federal job just before he came up at Christmas...so I had to remind her that he was in the Police Academy at that time, again)

Linda: "Allen really worked hard today bringing those big logs down from the West Trail, cutting them, splitting them and storing them up for next year, the poor guy is pooped."

Aunt Faye: "I told him he needed to think ahead, and I figured that there would be trees blown down from the storms so I told him to go get those logs so we would have wood for next year cause we had to cut wood all winter when I was young" (Nevermind that she grew up in Nebraska where you can drive for a hundred miles and never even see a damned tree...)

Linda: "Wendy and Will really put on a nice dinner for us didn't they?"

Aunt Faye: "Well, I taught her how to cook so she's getting pretty good at it by now."

...and then, when something goes wrong...

Linda: "It's too bad my cousins wife got hooked on those pain pills and now their whole family split up because of it... after so many years of marriage..."

Aunt Faye: "I never did like her, I told him not to get involved with her and he did so against my advice...now that is what happens." (Nevermind that this cousin was always held on a pedestal in her family lore because he played some professional football ...and his beautiful 'petite' wife with the ample breasts was held out as the perfect hostess, mother etc. for years and years...as I struggled to make ends meet, and marriages work, wondering what I was doing wrong compared to Barbie!)

Of course, dogs and babies would never be able to claim the all knowing 'genius' old people can....and do. In addition to that privilege...very old people get to tell you things because 'they are in the know' about all world events...in fact, they will tell you exactly what you told them yesterday as if you were hearing it for the very first time. Isn't that amazing?

PICKING NOSES, EARS AND SNIFFING BUTT...

Dogs do a lot of disgusting things...but you can somehow get past it quickly by just looking away until they are done, or by getting up and walking away if they get 'into it' with too much gusto and sound effects...but with babies and really, really old people it gets a little more complicated...the baby you can't trust to be 'alone' and stay out of trouble, and the 'ancient ones' just keep talking as you go to the bathroom and are still talking when you come out...like you never left.

In fact, if you don't hang around for the punch line or point of it...(should they remember what the point was occasionally...) you will get a replay of the whole conversation the next time you appear close enough for them to get a good start on it...so you try not to be rude as you began snoring with your eyes wide open...anyway...

A baby playing "the brown play-dough game?" with his soiled diaper can't know the difference between 'disgusting and acceptable', but as the parents are coughing and gagging while trying to clean the crib and baby up as fast as possible...

...and baby is NOT going to see smiling happy faces saying 'good boy' while they are in the clean up process...nor will he hear goochy, goochy goo from Mom and Dad for hours following that little 'surprise' either...so eventually, babies.... 'get it' that disgusting things are not on the venue at their home as acceptable behavior.

But, Old people don't give a rip who is around, nor what anyone thinks if they want to participate in disgusting things or new habits that overtake them. Case in point...

Aunt Faye became oblivious' to the fact that their finger has been boring her nose for the past two years regularly...(although everyone else around her learned how to smile politely as their eyes looked for a way to escape instead of being too mean about it by actually saying something...like stop it before I put this pillow over your face!) As they drove off, me and the nose digger were left behind, together. Faye didn't reserve her nose digging for any special occasion...

...and it didn't bother her one iota if her finger was in her nose searching frantically for something...while dining in a five star restaurant, landing at a busy airport, or at stop signs while riding in my car, or at the dinner table with 30 guests. She behaved as if she was on a mission for God.

A favorite 'comedic situation' for me was when the nose picking was going on at the same time as the 'staring'...and some poor victim (gasp) could barely endure that one -two punch or even worse, the big knock out when a loud degrading remark like "he's a big fat slob' was added to the picking and staring...for good measure!

I called it the 'Faye's freaking folks out' act, and Allen knew immediately what I meant...and now you do too.

I sorta kinda learned to live with "it" in the semi-comfort and privacy of our own home as I glanced in her direction to chat or show her something...(always to be slightly shocked at the unseemly sight of "it") but a thousand nose picks later... she had worn me down from reacting externally with raised brows or a deep sigh or with rolling eyes....but in a public place...I had to learn some way to get it under some control or I knew.... I just couldn't take her with me anymore.

I've never allowed my own children to 'act out' in public without a long agonizing walk (for them) to the bathroom for a 'tune up'...so there just isn't anyway I could sit at a restaurant knowing the customers would soon be throwing their dinner into a doggy bad once they got a gander at Aunt Faye's finger searching up her nose for a nugget one might guess must be buried somewhere near the top of her skull.

So, in any public place she was doing "it" I learned to reach over and gently put her hand down whispering, "No nose, no nose..." and most of the time she got it, but on other occasions she would loudly exclaim, "..but something is hanging out of my nose and it is driving me crazy!" ...and at those moments...

...I thought the plot of that old movie "Soylent Green" starring Charleton Heston...Definitely had an idea worth serious contemplation!

I felt like taking her to the bathroom on these occasions, but instead... whispered a little more loudly into her hearing aide, "If there was anything left in there.... it would have to be a rock glued to the inside of your nose with superglue or thousand pound epoxy... because you've been working on it for hours... so please stop because people are getting nauseated and they don't want to pay good money....to watch you digging here!"

Then, she would stop and sulk...but at least she stopped....but like a nervous Nellie I had to keep looking in her direction as I would if I had a child with terets syndrome who couldn't resist knocking over a water glass as he yelled expletives at the top of his lungs in a crowded library...so it kind of put a 'damper' on any potential for actually enjoying the 'eating out' adventure with Aunt Faye...to put it kindly.

Thankfully, the nose thing suddenly stopped and for months after that ended...it was the finger in the ear because 'gobs of invisible wax' was coming out of them and she was digging for that. A finger in the ear is not nearly as offensive as a finger in the nose...so missing a 'catch' on that one was not nearly as embarrassing for me.

Today, her skin is falling off her face in 'big sheets' so she is always pulling it off...but that is even less offensive than the ear and "it"...so I am thankful for the newest obsessive complusive disorder if that makes any sense to anyone other than myself.

Strangers in public places seem to believe she is in 'deep contemplation' as her hand reaches to her face and an imaginary sheet of skin is delicately removed....as it has the stately appearance of a sweet old retired professor pondering how best to explain the theory of relativity to sixth graders.

Of course, when she suddenly 'flicks' the skin away by jerking her hand wildly (as one might do when ALONE and a small piece of tape or sticky price tag is caught on the fingertips when wrapping a present)...people tend to 'startle' while trying to figure out what in the hell is going on with her...even if they have been taught... that it is not polite to 'stare'!

The GOOD NEWS is that the really, really old person doesn't notice anything around them but what they are focused on at that moment...(as the last picture here shows...) so they never suffer embarrassment and personal humiliation like their caretakers do! So I guess that alone is a Blessing of sorts...

The roof could cave in, the house could catch on fire (and almost has about five times so far...but that is another Chapter's story...) or everyone could suddenly go stark naked and streaking through the house at a family get together...but if 'honing in on a side of beef' is in Faye's focus...nothing else exists....and where that kind of focus is concerned, Dogs gobbling up their food provides another common ground between the two based on a 'one track mind'.

Some of the more mild mannered babies can be distracted from putting their finger or fork into a light socket once the attraction to it happens...but not many do so without considerable howling and temper Tantrums...along with completely 'determined parents' standing guard to prevent a repeat performance... but the stern 'disapproval' eventually wins and babies change to become more agreeable with time, even very sweet.

What hope are the chances that really, really old people will change those behaviors somehow for the better themselves, and even for those around them? About ZIP I'd guess.

Now, isn't that just Special (ed) to look forward to?

These are but a FEW of the many rewards a really, really long life may bring us all...and I personally don't think it sounds all that appealing...although well wishers still say, "live long and prosper" with a sincere belief that it is somehow a 'good thing " as long as you aren't starving to death or suffering, but somehow sharing the same world and mindset "babies and dogs share" doesn't float my boat either...to tell the truth.

So on that ambivalent note... we'll now close Chapter ONE, and continue on again once everyone's stomach starts to settle down a little.

Including mine.

BIRTHDAY'S AND BARBEQUES....HAPPY DAYS...AND HAPPY SECOND BIRTHDAY TO OUR GRANDSON, EAN!

Tomorrow is my Grandson, Ean's SECOND Birthday but he had his party today in California. Missing these milestone events is the one yucky fact of life we have to suffer since moving so far away from my daughter Lindsay, her hubby Jim and the Boys, Greg, Tom, Ean and Benjamin, and my son, David and my grand-daughter, Sierra.

I did want to get in on being the first to wish EAN..."Happy Birthday from Grammie" on his REAL BIRTHDAY, and starting this post at 11:50 pm or so guarantees that by the time I am finished...it will be EAN'S BIRTHDAY! Here's a recent photo of Ean..(only days old) and ya gotta admit, he's gorgeous...but don't let the angelic face fool you...he is a whirling dervish!

TODAY, we had about 30 people over for a BARBEQUE and it couldn't have been better! Our neighbor Terese raises champion Collie showdogs and has been a great advisor by phone about the dogs as she is so experienced and knowledgable, but this is the first time I met her in person. What a delight! One of her pups is going to the National Championships...so I suggested that we send our male Lab, Lucky up the hill to mate with her Champion Collie... so WE could have a National Champion dog too...(a lab and a collie = mutt, I know)...at first she looked at me surprised, but then realized I was joking... and we laughed our butts off.

Genn and Steve (my own Bette Midler and her 'straight man' Steve (musician) are old pals and like family too, so of course we always have a great time with them. We went to the outside table to eat because there was more room to 'spread out' so Genn snapped a couple of photos (mostly of the dogs...) and sent them to me tonight since I TOTALLY FORGOT to take any pictures of the fabulous spread we had...yummy...or any of the guests! Me bad! So the ONLY photo of the actual barbeque with more than me and allen or pat and michele in it..is the one I am posting...thanks Genn!

Of course, cousin Bill Farley is always up for some home cookin, so he manuevered among the crowd picking up the conversation as he went...but I didn't get much opportunity to hang out with him today...and Aunt Faye had fun with all of the guests as well...of course. She did some 'back in the day' with them and they seemed to enjoy it.

The people who we bought the place from came also, (Jeff and Kathy and their three teenagers) and they really liked what we have done to our home...as I told others about the beauty of the white Canadian Spruce and solid workmanship they had put into this home before we ever moved in. Jeff is is an excavating contractor and he is coming back next Friday to help us plan for the three car garage we want to build right next to the home come spring (?), and give us a bid on the excavation part of it which will mean taking down one of the bigger Doug Firs.

They ended out being the last to leave as we yakked and laughed on and on as they told us a lot more about a lot of things...and helped us avoid having to learn MORE THINGS the HARD WAY. lol

Of course, the Denison's are about as close to family now as you can get without the same blood running through your veins and we got extra tables and chairs from them which worked out perfect. Rhonda's Dad brought his 'lady friend' and that is always cute too. Rhonda and Kathy (Jeff's wife) and their daughters are 'horse people' so they know each other pretty good, and of course..the neighbors all know each other so there was not one minute of
"downtime" from talking and having an 'old home week' atmosphere.

Then of course there was Pat and Michele, and Wendy, Will, Jordan and Emily...but Emily was having a bad day I guess so Will took her home before the festivities really got started and never came back? Wendy, Jordan and Will helped set up, cook and then Wendy did ALL of the clean up at the end of the party and I am SOOOOO THANKFUL because...

I was on my last legs..literally! It's been awhile since I busted butt like I have the past several days on the house (and Allen outside) and especially MY OFFICE (which always looks like a tornado hit it), but I am very proud of myself because I didn't shove anything in a drawer and actually 'organized' most of the paperwork things over the past week so everything finally had a place to call 'home' if I can remember to put it away after I pull out five or six things to work on at the same time!

I also am proud that I finally did my grandkid's picture box..as it took a long time to get the right pictures for the size of the frames in the box...the picture of it and the upstairs just doesn't look as good as the whole, I'm afraid...but I assure you that the photos in the 'box' aren't as lopsided as they look here.

I'm including a few pictures of the upstairs.. just so you know it actually happened. Having something like this barbeque is great because it pushes us to get things done we have procrastinated doing for a long time! I pretty much did my whole upstairs myself with Jordan's help...but I feel pretty happy with myself for getting so much done. Will, Allen and Wendy helped on some specific things (like hanging my curtains...and taking down the Christmas wreath (lol).

OUR new friends, John and Dianne own the 'Smokin Pig' and it looks like Hogfathers will be moving into that building (imagine! heat and our own nice bathroom?!) with them and working together to help each other's business'. He just bought a big 'smoker' so I ordered the pork and a smoked brisket from him for the party...and he surprised us by bringing prime rib instead...but at the same cost as the brisket! Then there was the potatoe salad Genn made (yum), green salad Wendy made, this totally awesome new salsa Will came up with (really unbelievable!) chips, dips, tons of finger foods..and a "famous frosting" cake, garlic bread etc. that some of our guests brought with them...and finally Mama Mia's homemade lasagne...so we had everything but a barbequed anything, but no one seemed to mind much. ha ha

(BTW That is John and Dianne standing with me as I explained about the next big adventure and that is the bmx track, fort and zip wire we want to build for the kids (at heart) and grandkids...in the last picture and the only one showing a group of the barbeque...compliments of Genn again...)

Then there were about 8 to 11 teenagers here as well, but for some reason...they spent most of their time upstairs entertaining themselves. It's always great when a planned party goes off as planned, and a better mix of family and friends just couldn't be found any better...and to top it off...the sun came out today and stayed for most of it.

So, on that note...IT IS NOW A LITTLE PAST MIDNIGHT...so I am signing off with a HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my Grandson EAN MOORE...You're now in the terrible TWO's club, but I don't think your parents have noticed it yet?!

(Big hugs and Smooches...Grammie).

PS - and our dogs were very well behaved today as well, who could ask for more?

PPS- Having "forgotten" to take photos at the party itself...I took these of the house AFTER the party....so tomorrow I will wake up and everything will be perfectly orderly. Thanks again to the many helping and 'loving hands' who shared the work and the fun.