Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

Lowell George singin' just fer me...

I've got the apolitical blues
And that's the meanest blues of all
Apolitical blues
And that's the meanest blues of all
I don't care if it's John Wayne
I just don't wanna talk to him now

The message is in the music.  I'm sick to frickin' DEATH of politics at this point in time so just don't go there with me, mmm-kay?  Tell me sumthin' good.

Speakin' o' sumthin' good... We have "Waiting for Columbus" loaded up in our cassette player* and are listenin' to it out on the verandah with our windows and door wide open on this beee-you-ti-ful day here on The High Plains o' New Mexico.  It's 90 big fat degrees as we speak and we're LOVIN' it!

* Why yes, we DO still have a cassette player and we use it often, coz that's where taped copies of my greatly-missed vinyl live.

Pretty Cool

Grandmas everywhere are gonna love this...

Dads, too.  Here's what I did with one of my favorite SN3 pics:

Wasn't he just the cutest lil beggar?

Update, 1400 hrs:  Hey... We made the web site! 

How cool is that?

A Preemptive Post

SHUT UP, Virgil -- I don't wanna hear it.  It was close, up until the third Hawks goal.  Buckle up; it's gonna be a long series, Bro.

LGRW!

What's In a Name?

U.S. Air Force Lt. Gen. Eric Fiel, Air Force Special Operations Command commander, passes the guidon to Col. Albert M. "Buck" Elton II, 27th Special Operations Wing commander, in a change of command ceremony at Cannon Air Force Base, N.M., July 8, 2011. (U.S. Air Force photo by Airman Ericka Engblom)

I used to think my family was sorta unique, in that we have three generations of Bucks... my father, Berl "Buck" Pennington; me, Norman "Buck" Pennington; and SN1, Ivan "Buck" Pennington... all of us bein' career Air Force.  Well, I THOUGHT we were unique until last night, when I met Col. Buck Elton, the commander of the 27th Special Operations Wing at Cannon.  Col. Elton was the guest speaker at the quarterly meeting of the Llano Estacado chapter of the Air Force Association, which I attended last evening.

Col. Elton opened up his remarks by saying he's the third in a line of Bucks, all of whom are or were career Air Force, going back to his grandfather who served in WW II.  I just HAD to raise my hand at that point to interrupt him with my "small world" story and the membership got a pretty good chuckle outta that.

It really is a small world, eh?  Or a strange one, you choose.

I've posted this photo before but some of you may not have seen it.

That's the Ol' Man, me, and Mom... c. 1947 or '48.

Yum

We broke one of our cardinal dining rules last night, to wit: "NEVER eat sushi more than 50 miles inland."  Well, The Big(ger) City^TM is pretty far from the ocean but we heard tell there's a passable sushi bar at one of the Thai restaurants in Clovis.  So we took the plunge, like this:

Yet another crappy cell-phone pic.

What you see is four pieces of maguro, three pieces of sake, two pieces of tamago, a big-ass pile o' wasabi, and a bowl o' miso soup (not pictured is a bowl of greens in sesame oil... that was my salad).  It was good.  Not great, mind you, but good enough that I think we'll go back to Thai City again.

What's great sushi?  Well, it's served in a place like this:

The Second Mrs. Pennington and I in a Tokyo sushi bar, 1991.

That's a long ways to go for raw fish, innit?

A Flora Update

I showed all y'all some of the strange Spring growth we have here on The High Plains o' New Mexico a while back and figgered I owe ya an update now that the shoots have blossomed.  So...

Before blooming, April 21st.

New and old shoots.

Blossom close-up.

I think these Red Yucca things are quite pretty.

Heh

I watched the BEST Game Seven... evah... last evening and witnessed history bein' made.  Never before had a team come back from a three-goal deficit in the third period of a Game Seven to win, but the B's did just that and they did it in a heart-stopping manner.   The B's pulled their goalie for six skaters and then scored not one but TWO goals in the last minute and thirty seconds of the third to tie and then went on to win the whole shootin' match in OT.

Not everyone is pleased with the outcome, however...

The Top Ten Bitter Tweets from Leafs fans are here.  I can't think of a more deserving bunch o' people, actually.  The Leafs... and their fans... are another one of those teams we just LOVE to hate.  I'm looking forward to renewing the old rivalry next year.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack...

... is a case where the cover exceeds the original by an order o' magnitude:



OMG but I loves me some Diana Krall, almost as much as I hates me some Billy Joel; it's hard to say which one exceeds the other. That said... ain't the woman SULTRY?  Oh, yes, indeedy.  I do SO envy Elvis.

(Apropos o' everything, this is the album we're listenin' to this afternoon.  What a marvelous showcase o' talent this is.)

What? ANOTHER Re-run?

I'm afraid so.  There was this exchange between Lou and I on yesterday's post about jeans...

Bag Blog 12 May, 2013 19:14

Real cowboys wear Wranglers.

Replies

Buck 12 May, 2013 23:48
But... I am not now, nor was I ever, a cowboy.

Well... I lied.  I totally forgot about this lil number:

Thursday, June 24, 2010

We Were Cowboys Once, and Young

Blog-Bud Dan put a post up yesterday that talked about cowboys... and a good part of that post was about how he and his friends used to ride their hobby-horses all over the neighborhood chasing down bad guys and saving the ranch.  It was only a few days ago that the subject of cowboys came up here at EIP... on Father's Day, actually...  when we went off on a tangent talking about them and our youth.  It goes without sayin'... yet I always do... that I was BIG into cowboys in my yoot.  My parents had close encounters with the Poor House keeping me in cowboy paraphernalia, too.  And I have proof of my last.

That's the intro.  So cue up some appropriate music and return with us now to those thrillin' days o' yesteryear...

That's a Hopalong Cassidy shirt, pants, boots, guns, and RADIO at lower left.

Adding in the Cassidy hat, gloves, and tie.

I have no ideer who these clothes are modeled on.  Prolly some C&W singer.

Weren't we cool?  Heh.

Yep.  We were cool alright and we weren't wearin' Wranglers.

Look Out, Virgil... Here We Come

We had our moments of anxiety, especially in the final two minutes of the third period, but all's well that ends well.

Buh-bye, Ducks.  You had a good run in the regular season but you just weren't QUITE up to the task at hand.  From that "read more" link in the graphic above:

ANAHEIM -- For the second straight game, the Detroit Red Wings faced elimination, and for the second straight contest, their captain helped them avoid it.

Henrik Zetterberg scored the opening goal and assisted on another, while goalie Jimmy Howard made 31 saves as the Red Wings defeated the Anaheim Ducks 3-2 at Honda Center in Game 7 of this Western Conference Quarterfinal series at Honda Center on Sunday night.

The seventh-seeded Red Wings, who needed at least a point in the final game of the regular season just to qualify for the postseason, will now move on to face the rival Chicago Blackhawks in the Western Conference Semifinals. The start of that series has yet to be determined.

[...]

Detroit continued to frustrate the Ducks for much of the third period, but Zetterberg went to the penalty box for delay of game and Anaheim quickly cut the two-goal deficit in half. Beaucheim (sic; should be Beauchemin) threw the puck towards the net and it glanced off Jonathan Ericsson's skate and into the net with 3:17 remaining. Twice before in this series, the Ducks had erased multi-goal deficits in the third period.

THAT was the source of my anxiety, in that we've seen this movie too many times before... but the Wings hung on and the rest is history.  Now it's on to Chicago... where we'll see if those 'Hawks are real or not.  This is a rivalry I'm gonna miss when the Wings move to the Eastern Conference next year... and this final playoff series should be a great one.

In Which We Deviate From the Norm

I did sumthin' today that I thought I'd NEVER do... I bought a pair o' jeans that aren't made by the descendents o' Levi Strauss.  Like this:

Wranglers.  I hate to admit it, but the principal driver here was cost.  Have you looked at what Mr. Strauss' descendents are asking for a garden-variety pair o' 501s lately?  Those Wranglers you see above cost less than HALF... much less, when ya get right down to it... o' what ol' Levi is askin' for his jeans.  So we bit the bullet and bought a pair o' Wranglers.  We'll throw 'em in the wash later on today and will begin wearin' 'em tomorrow.

It's the end... mebbe... of an era.  I've been a 501 kinda guy for over 40 years now but all that is liable to change.  In the meantime it's a beautiful day here on The High Plains o' New Mexico and there's beer that needs drinkin'.  So it's out to the verandah... in our 501s... to drink us some Sammy Adams Summer Ale.

Happy Mother's Day

The fifth annual reiteration of our Mother's Day post:

Happy Mother's Day

 

Ah…dog poop. Probably one of the (very) minor reasons my second marriage failed…coz The Second Mrs. Pennington was largely in charge of the particularly odious chore — following behind three dogs, including two pretty good-sized ones — let’s say about 90% of it. And she never hesitated to point out that fact to me. 

[...]

The Mom’s Day image comes from new-to-me blog TGAW…who has great pics of Glacier National Park, in addition to providing me with this “wouldn’t it be great but it would NEVER frickin’ happen in real life” Mom’s Day illustration. Thanks, TGAW!!

Remind me to write about Glacier…some day.

But, seriously. Happy Mother’s Day to all my favorite Moms, and even to those who aren’t my favorites. I’ll remain cryptic on that last.

Call yer Mom!  Or better yet, give her a big hug and a kiss if you still can.  There comes a time in life when she won't be around, ya know.

Them Wings...

... are gonna give me a heart attack before this is all over.  We excused ourselves from yesterday's Command Performance and hied our Old Ass home to catch the final two periods o' the Wings game.  So there we were... three minutes to go in the third period with the Beloved Wings up, 3-1.  We're thinkin' this one's in the bag... but NO!  Filppula puts a perfect pass behind the net to a Frickin' Duck (say WHAT?) and it's 3-2.  Then Perry isn't called on blatant trip behind the Detroit net and the game's tied.  Oh Shit, Oh Dear.  Z gets the winner on his stick with less than a minute left in regulation and he... hits the freakin' goal post.  So we go to OT, for the fourth time in this series.  But all's well that ends well... Z gets the OT winner, less than two minutes into overtime.  Oh... be still, my beating heart!  

Highlights:



So. Game Seven and we can still fly the flag, if only for one more day.  Talk about winning the hard way...  IF we win this Game Seven we'll face the Hated 'Hawks in the next round, which ain't all that bad.  Yeah, Chicago swept the regular season's games, 4-0, but three of those four games went to OT.  We can beat those guys... not easily... but it can be done.  The worst will be to come, however... assuming we beat Chicago.  It'll be back to the Left Coast to face the winner of the Sharks-Kings series.  Even MORE bad travel... but Hey!  We can do this.  Yes we can.

It all hinges on a win in Anaheim tomorrow night, which ain't beyond the pale.

LGRW!  Bring on the heart attack!

Saturday: Fascinating

There are way too many geeky references and inside jokes in this Audi ad that I don't get.  But I DO get the car.



Here's the runner-up:



I haven't heard of some of those things as bein' bad luck, but that dude is in for a world o' hurt after smashing all those mirrors.

Today's alternate runner-up was the new video from Bowie, who continues to shock and amaze.  I thought the vid was a lil bit too racy for EIP, but you can see it here.

All from The Usual Source o' such things.

Cheesy Videos XXVIII

I was gonna post this as an update to the post below and then I thought "Wait.  We have a category for this!"  And so it is...



Cheesy.  No doubt.

Unusual

It's been raining off and on all day, which is a Great Good Thing.  Even more amazing is the fact today's rain is of the gentle, falling-in-the-vertical-plane sorta rain.  I'd be out on the verandah enjoying the show were it but ten degrees warmer.  Well, Hell... I may just bundle up and go on out there, anyway.  It's almost time for Happy Hour... and there's nothing quite like the sounds and smells of gentle rain in the desert.

The 17th Street Canal and Intra-City Waterway has reached navigable depth and looks sorta like this:

That's a recycled pic; it's overcast and raining as we speak... which is not very photogenic.

In other unusual news... it dawned on me that I'll prolly miss tonight's hockey game, which the Beloved Wings MUST win to stay alive.  I've signed up for a family Command Performance this evening... a dinner celebrating two nieces who graduated from nursing school today.  I guess I'll just have to keep repeating the "it's only a game, it's only a game" mantra.  Priorities, yanno?

It's One o' THOSE Days...

... which is to say the sorta day where I got nuthin' yet my Occasional Correspondents come through to rescue me.  Again.  Frequent Correspondent, Occasional Reader, Superb Cook, Great Drinkin' Buddy, Retired Blogger, and Perpetual Biker Lin sends this along...



About which I replied...

Wow.  Those guys have MUCH bigger ones than I do, speaking specifically about riding in snow, all that "passing on the right" stuff, and some of those mountain "roads."  Ah, to be young again.

That's just scratching the surface.  You'll note the map at the beginning of the video that shows the route these guys took.  That, in and of itself, is amazing.  I've ridden in some rather obscure and exotic places in this world but these guys' "been there, done that" tee-shirt is almost beyond amazing.  Big ones.  Big BRASS Ones.

On another topic... make sure you drop by the Old AF Sarge's place today to see some incredible plane pr0n.  Good stuff, Maynard.

Broadening Our Horizons LXIV

I mentioned yesterday that we'd restocked our fridge o' many charms with some drinkable beer after that Sammy Adams debacle.  We also bought some new-to-me beer, that bein' a sixer o' these:

I was quite taken with the Monks' Ale I sampled a couple o' weeks ago so it wasn't much of a gamble to buy some more of the Brothers' product.  I generally like Wit beers and this is a high qualty example of the genre.  It's tasty, indeed.  Here's what the Brothers have to say about their beer:

Monks’ Wit is distinctly fruity and spicy. The yeast lends a note of spice that accentuates the imported coriander, sweet and bitter orange peel, and other spices. The malt provides a sweet, bready quality up front and a round fruitiness in the middle.  The wheat and oats lend a creamy taste. 

The imported hops and spices lend a clean, dry, finish to this light, refreshing ale.

Refreshing, indeed.  I think Monks' Wit will be a regular brew for me this summer.

So.  Here's some appropriate music for the occasion:

This is perhaps my favorite REM song and we have "Out of Time" in the CD player, as we speak. That said... We ain't so much losin' our religion as we are gainin' some. In one way or t'other.  Those monks are definitely helpin' out in this space.

Amazing

Who'd a thunk it, eh?  OTOH, the competition was pretty weak.  "Elect me coz I'm Stephen Colbert's sister" ain't much of a platform.

My Morning

What's the male equivalent o' "stunning?"

We had to get up at oh-dark-thirty today or at least the Retired Geezer equivalent o' same, which would be 0830 hrs plus two hits o' the snooze button on our spiffy phone-cum-alarm clock.  The reason for our early rise?  A six-month follow-up appointment with our urologist... just to make sure everything is as it should be... and I'm pleased to report everything is peachy, pending analysis of the bodily fluids we surrendered to the smiling nurse.  Let me say this about that: (a) I HATE needles and I HATE feeding the vampires (but we did it out o' necessity); (b) at my age there's a fine line between having to pee and peeing my pants.  I only had three cups this morning before I left home and didn't visit The Little Room before I left the house, knowing as we did that we would have to give up a urine sample.  Well.  It was a near-run thing but we managed to get to the men's room, cup in hand, before catastrophe struck.  All's well that ends well.  Here's the most amazing part:  I was in and out of Roosevelt General Hospital in 30 minutes time... soup to nuts.

So.  We left RGH and motored on down to the automotive beauty salon to give The Tart a much-needed beauty treatment after the rain showers that turned her coating of dust into something that looked a lot like it had recently emerged from a mud bog.  But she glistens now, as befits any dowager recently returned from the spa.

From there we motored on out to Cannon Airplane Patch where I got my own beauty treatment, which is to say my once-every-two-months hair cut.  We also stopped by the Class Six store for to re-stock the fridge with some drinkable beer.  So I'm beautiful now, too, in more ways than one.

I'll be even prettier in about a half hour's time... Beer Me!