Hello there!
I thought it would be fun to add a page of old science fiction and horror movies to this blog. You know, stuff that, today, may make us laugh, but way back when we were kids scared the snot out of us.
I’ll probably add to it fairly often and this is just enough to kick it off.
I would like to keep this to films made prior to 1960, but I won’t promise anything…
If you want to take a look, click on this link…
Have fun!
I originally sent this message to some of my closest family and friends in an effort to alert them to an issue that is now showing its ugly head in my life and give them a heads up that it may also be coming their way in the near future.
After giving it careful consideration, I have decided to pass this information along to those of you who follow this blog so as to give you the opportunity to prepare for what’s coming down the road.
Please know that I don’t take this lightly, and I hope and pray that this reaches you while there is still time to act upon its message…
This is an important message for a few of my closest and most trusted friends. So important and personal that I am sending it in Chinese, so as to avoid any problems with people who might intercept and use this information against me, my family or you, my friends who may be affected by this. But, again, I trust each of you not to tell anybody about this…
一定要喝你的阿华田
Remember, I’m counting on you…
Thanks for being there when I need you…
B
Please take care..
BK
Hello again, Gentle Reader… I have returned with, yet, another lesson on how to live your life successfully under any circumstances or conditions whatsoever…
Today, I am going out to get a new tire for my wheelbarrow. As part of the process for doing that, this morning I looked into the mirror to make sure that the neighbor kids won’t be terrified when I leave my driveway and, upon doing so, I realized that a good hat will no longer suffice to make me appear well groomed. I am beyond that stage and it is time to invest in a haircut.
Or… is it?…
At almost any other time of year, this would be a great time to get a haircut. However, in my case, for today, at least, bad hair presents a once in a lifetime conundrum. Seriously – this will only come up one time during my whole life (unless I change barbers, and maybe not even then).
On this day, the decision to get, or not to get, a haircut has become a matter of principle and priority.
Principle: Nice men should look nice. People think I am a nice man. I should look nice.
Priority: Looking nice is nice. There is money involved. Screw looking nice.
It required some thought… And so I gave it some thought…
On one hand, today, I don’t qualify for the senior discount provided by the shop that cuts my hair and makes me reasonably presentable to other members of the human race.
On the other hand, next Friday I will qualify for the senior discount.
This situation was quite disconcerting to me. I want to look nice for my wife and my dog (not so much for the cat), but looking nice comes with a price (in this case, an extra $1.50 if I do it today vs. next week).
(Let me give you a little background on something, here… Judy and I have started collecting our receipts so we can better evaluate
who spends more moneyhow we invest our hard earned funds and how we can better live within our budgetary constraints. She has a box on her desk for her receipts, and I have a box on my desk for my receipts. So far, I have one receipt for $8.34 in my box.
I’m not used to this sort of internal battle, and I was having a problem making a final decision on whether to act today or wait a week and save a buck-fifty keeping me in the “who spends more money game. It was time to break out the big guns…
…This gave me a chance to use my newly acquired “Pro-Con” decision making tool:
I quickly did so and immediately messed up the process by putting my issue in the wrong place on the form. Then, when I had made my decision, I left off my plan of action. And, finally, I put in the wrong year – should be 2015. At least I didn’t get ahead of myself…
But, be that as it may, I made the crucial decision to – well, you can see for yourself above, and I don’t want to bore you by repeating repeating my final decision…
So, now I’m going to go to my truck, which (I just remembered) has been warming up for the past two hours as I have been writing this post, and go get a new tire for my wheelbarrow.
And NOT get a haircut…
And save a dollar and fifty cents... Or maybe a bit less, since my truck has been running in place for the past two hours…
As always, Gentle Reader, if I may be of any assistance to you in the ways of living a more successful life, please don’t hesitate to contact me at one of my many personal email address: billk@sti.net.
Until next time,
Live Life Successfully Or Die Trying…
Always, The Very William H. Kammerer, Jr. Esq. (Not)
Hello again, Gentle Reader,
Today’s subject is a continuation of my new found photo addiction, this time featuring the catastrophic effects of last night’s major wind storm and my recovery efforts.
In an effort to give you an idea just how bad things were, and how great they became after my cleanup, I will display the photos in a “Before and After” format, with the “Before” shots coming before the “After” shots, and the after shots coming after the “Before” shots. (This will, hopefully, make the complicated situation a bit easier to comprehend.)
OK, let’s get started…
Patio Furniture Cushions and Umbrellas Before Repairs:
Patio Furniture Cushions and Umbrellas After Repairs:
Wheelbarrow Before Recovery:
Wheelbarrow After Recovery:
Observation Bench, Pre-Restoration:
Observation Bench, Post-Restoration:
Wayward Branch Before Massive Cleanup Effort:
Wayward Branch After Massive Cleanup Effort:
Fallen Tree Before Murphy and I Went Hiking In Yosemite:
Fallen Tree After Murphy and I Returned From Hiking In Yosemite:
Hey, it was Yosemite, OK? I’ll get to it…
Well, We all had such a great time with the “rocks” that I thought I would start photographing and naming some of the other personally owned inanimate objects in my life. This time, I have decided to go with my hats. Just one, to start with, but it’s a good one. In fact, it’s not just a good one, it’s a wonderful, wonderful one…
I was inspired by a commercial for the TV show , “Helix”. While I will probably never watch the show, there was something about the name that caught my attention. In fact, it brought me back to my childhood and made me think (warmly) about another TV show with a similar sounding name…
Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you:
Helix the Hat
(The Wonderful, Wonderful Hat)
Or, at least, try not to fall asleep…
To see (gawk in wonderment at) the rocks, click here…
Addendum:
* Since a rock is a rock, after all, and not an animate object, it is not capable of taking its own selfie, so I did it the honor of taking it for it.
Addendum #2:
Attention! Attention! Attention!
After a brief exchange (no, we didn’t swap underwear) with my friend Judy Eckberg Robertson, I have decided that our rocks need names. And, after further brief exchanges with Judy E.R. and Judy Kammerer, I thought it might be fun to open up the naming of our rocks to you, my adoring fans, friends and family….
What do you think? You want to help us name a rock? If so, just pick one and submit your entry.
Thank you for your kind attention… That is all…
I’m going to start out by admitting something that has been rolling around in my head for a week or two.
For a long time, I didn’t think I was getting any older, and the thought that I was not getting any younger never made it’s way into my head. However, that has changed, and I am ready to go on record as believing that I am, in fact, not getting any younger.
At first, I was disappointed that I was not aging in reverse, but after some consideration, I have decided that that’s not a bad thing, and here’s why…
When I thought about it, I realized that time only moves forward, never backward, and the only way one can expect to be around tomorrow is to move forward with it and get older. When you stop moving forward with time and, therefore, stop getting older, you die (not necessarily in that order). The only way that anybody who is younger than me can catch up with me in years is if I stop aging (die). I figure it’s pretty much the same for all of us – you included.
Once I figured that out, I realized that failure to get younger is not a bad price to pay for waking up tomorrow. And once I realized that, I was able to embrace getting older with a modicum of grace.
Moving forward in age is actually pretty cool. It presents us with a whole new set of things to think about when making plans for down the road.
One of those considerations is retirement…
Some day, in the next several years, I hope to retire (it’s either that or work until I die, and I much prefer the retirement route for as many years as possible before I finally bite the big one – but that’s not up to me, and I’m working on being ready when the big one gets bit), and when retirement day arrives, I’m gonna need something to do with whatever time I have left on this Earth.
Up till now I haven’t actually given much thought to how I’m going to spend that time. Oh, I have considered volunteering and hiking a lot. Take up photography. Find some other frustrated musicians and start a 60s rock band (60’s meaning our ages, not necessarily the brand of music we would play). The usual stuff, I guess.
But as far as serious activity plans, just about nothing has come to mind.
Until today…
Yes, today. And, as is the case with most of my best ideas, it came to me in the grocery store. This time I never even got to the checkout stand before it hit me. This time it happened in…
… The magazine isle. Yes, the magazine isle…
Judy was looking at some magazines in the magazine isle, and I was biding my time (being the patient husband) while she perused through publication after publication. Waiting… Waiting… Waiting.
After approximately two weeks of wait time, I decided that if she could peruse then so could I.
And so I did…
Peruse… Peruse… Peruse until –
– Whoa! I had perused myself through all sorts of works having to do with how to have the greatest marriage in the history of marriage, how to have muscles in places that do not currently exist on your (or anyone else’s) body and how to acquire millions in the house flipping industry – when what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a nine dollar rag with my future right there!
Yes, my quest (you know – the quest upon which I had not yet embarked) had been successful, and all I had to do was to go to the grocery store!
Oh yeah – and wait patiently. Good things come to those who wait patiently.
I was astounded at how easily I had patiently waited my way to revelation! Seriously, folks, forebearance really works. We should all try it sometime…
Anyway, back to my story…
At the exact moment that my eyes landed upon this magazine cover I knew that my life’s plan had been revealed to me. One look at the guy on the cover and I was thinking, “Holy cow!! That’s me! That guy in the picture is my doppelgänger! This is what I am supposed to do!” All I had to do now was to convince Judy that allowing me to make the nine dollar investment required to obtain the document that I would use to map out my future retirement activity program and I would be all set…
It took some doing, but after agreeing to never again go shopping with her after we are both retired she permitted me to spend the money.
And so I did.
By now you may be wondering how I am going to spend my golden years. Well, here it is…
…
…
…
…
…
…
Yes, that’s right! I am going to become a modern day pioneer! I have already started reading up on skinning and selling furs and searching Craig’s list for classic guns and powder horns and leather leggings and jackets with fringes hanging down everywhere and other great backwoods companions! (I already have a couple of cowboy hats so I figure I’m off to a great start!)
I think I’ll probably start small on the “furs” thing. We have a couple of squirrels living in the back yard, and I can practice on them when I get my musket, slug making gear and Bowie Knife.
Man, I’m totally stoked that I have finally found my true calling in life! I only wish it had come to me three or four decades sooner! I could already be living the good life climbing every mountain, fording every stream and following every rainbow until I find my dream… (Hmmm.. I wonder if there’s a song in there somewhere… Nah – it would never catch on…)
Anyway, I have bids in on ebay for some bear traps, whiskey and a fur hat for Winter trapping trips, and I want to make sure they don’t get away so I am going to sign off.
But just one word of advice before I go.
Guys, If you’re not the patient type when you are shopping with your wife, you may be missing out on opportunities that might not come your way again. Make the occasion a time of searching for that one thing you are missing in your life.
You will probably find it in the magazine isle…
See? Einstein really was a genius…
Names are important. Almost everybody I know has a name, or, at least, an initial, and for good reason. If you don’t have a name, you can’t tell when somebody is addressing you. In fact, if you don’t have a name, nobody knows how to address you in the first place.
This situation would have the potential to make interaction with other people awkward.
Think about some of the things that would change if you didn’t have a name…
Roll call in school:
“Mary Smith” “Present”
“John Jones” “Present”
“David Munchmorton” “Present”
” ” “Present
Getting Married:
“I, Sally Sue Grinchmeister, take you… … …Uh – I’m not sure where to go from here.”
Applying for a driver’s license:
“Name?…Name?…Name? ” “… Uh…Present?”
We can see why we all need some sort of handle in oder to get through life with a minimum of difficulty.
But what if we are stuck with a name so horrible that we would rather not bother with it? Some of us can use a middle name (or initial – see link below), but some of us can’t. For example (These are actual first and middle names – not necessarily in that order – that people give their children – really)…
Carrion Abass (Boy)
Vegas Younique (Girl)
Dolton Emporer (Boy)
Stony Richard (Girl – Yes, girl)
Rage Vader (Boy)
Ahmiracal Pretty (Girl – could be worse – could be for a boy)
Love U. (Boy – OK, that’s not real, but it could be)
Any or all of the names listed above (or the complete lack of a name to begin with) would give someone a great reason to make a change in moniker…
…But none of them come close to having as good a reason to make a change as a guy who – seemingly – has a perfectly serviceable (even really cool – even great) name.
A name that has a really manly ring to it.
A name that a lot of guys would pay good money to have.
Who says that a television commercial cannot change your life…
Can you imagine working at State Farm and actually having the name “Jake”?
This guy does…
His life must have become a living Hell…
My name is Truly… Love Truly… Love U. Truly. Yes, that’s my real name and no, it wasn’t easy growing up with that name. It was hard – real hard, and I have always wondered what my parents were thinking when they tagged me with it.
I would have been happier with a name like Rocky Smith. Or Max Jones. Or Sam Hamburgowitzheimerlocktonspineligrauptonstein.
Or Penelope. Why couldn’t they just have named me ‘Penelope’ with no middle or last name?
But it’s ‘Love U. Truly’, so I have to live with it. And what’s my middle name? What does the “U.” stand for? It’s ‘U.’. Just ‘U.’. They couldn’t even come up with a decent middle name to which I can fall back when people ask me my name. Most guys can fall back to their middle name (or, at least, a cool nick name) when they think their first name won’t do…
“Hi, I’m Harold, but you can call me Hal.”
Well, that doesn’t work for me…
“Hi, I’m U., but you can call me U.”..
See the difference? And there are several other problems associated with having a name like ‘Love U. Truly’. Prospective employers don’t take it seriously when they see it on my resume.
“OK – Who’s the joker? who put this fake resume on my desk?”
I have never had an actual job interview because my resumes keep getting tossed into the shredder. That being the case, I have never had an actual job. It’s really very sad…
I have tried to get gainful employment my entire life, only to be laughed out of Human Resource offices all over the state.
I’ve tried opening my own business a couple of times, but have never been able to attract customers because the DBA didn’t come across right…
‘Love U. Truly Bail Bonds’
‘Love You Truly, Bounty Hunter’
‘Love You Truly, Body Guard’
‘Love you Truly, Professional Hit Man’
See what I mean? There’s a disconnect in there somewhere.
One of the major issues with the name is that of introducing one’s self to someone new. That can be a real challenge, and it was never a good time for me.
Until the day I met my soul mate, the love of my life…
“So, What’s your name?”
“‘U.’. What’s yours?”
“I asked you first. “
“Yes, I know. Thank you for asking. I’m ‘U.’. Who are you?”
“Wait a minute. You’re not me. I am me. You are you.”
“Right.”
“Tell you what… You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine. You go first.”
“OK… I am ‘U..’ Who are you?”
“You haven’t told me your name, yet.”
“Yes I have – it’s ‘U.'”
“Wait a minute.. Are you telling me your name is ‘You? Y-o-u’?
“No, not ‘Y-o-u’ – Just “U..’ The letter ‘U..'”
“Your name is the Letter ‘U.?'”
“Yes. Well, that’s my middle name. My real first name is ‘Love,’ but I go by ‘U.’.”
“Your name is ‘Love’ and the letter ‘U.’?”
“Yes. ‘Love U.’ and only ‘U.’. Who are you?”
“I am ‘Me’.”
“OK – I think that we can agree that you are you and I am me, but what’s your name?”
“No, you are U. and I am Me, not you.”
“Yes, I am ‘U.’ and you are not me.”
“Yes I am.”
“Yes you are what?”
“I am ‘Me.'”
“Yes, you are, but who are you?”
“No, you are ‘U.’ and I am ‘Me.'”
“And we are we and we are all together, but who are you?”
“You are ‘U.'”
“We have established that I am ‘U.’ . What I don’t know is your name.”
“My name is ‘Me.'”
“Are you telling me that your name is ‘Me’?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Ahhhh! Right! What’s your last name?”
“Wright.”
“Yes, I think I have your first name right.”
“No! You’ve got my first name wrong! My first name is ‘Me’!”
“Yes, right. I understand that, but what’s your last name?”
“‘Wright’. My last name is ‘Wright’.”
“Your last name is ‘Right’? R-i-g-h-t?”
“No, that’s wrong. My last name is ‘Wright’ W-r-i-g-h-t.”
“Ahhhh… I think I have it – Your first name is ‘Me’, which is right; your last name is not ‘right’, which is wrong; but your last name is ‘Wright,’ which is right! Right?”
“Yes! That is truly right! I am ‘Me’ and you are ‘U’! What’s your last name?”
“Truly.”
“Yes, tell me truly.”
“That’s my name – ‘Truly’.”
“What’s your last name?”
“My last name is ‘Truly’.”
“Oh! Your last name is ‘Truly’!”
“Right!”
“No, My name is Wright!”
“Not Wright! Right!”
“Truly?”
“Yes.”
“I think I get it… Your name is ‘Love U. Truly.'”
“Correct. And you are ‘Me Wright’. Right?”
“Correct.”
“Do you have a middle name?”
“Yes, ‘No’.”
“You do? Or you don’t?”
“Yes I do.”
“Tell me what it is.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Why not what?”
“Why won’t you tell me your middle name?”
“I did.”
“You did? What is it?”
“Yes I did. ‘No’.”
“You are saying that your middle name is ‘No’?”
“Yes.”
“So your full name is Me No Wright?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Sigh… “I think I’m in love… Will you marry me?”
“I don’t know. Will he?”
“Will who what?”
“Will U. marry Me?”
“I just asked you that.”
“No, you just asked me if U. will marry Me. That’s different.”
“How is that different?”
“Why do you ask?”
And that, my friends, was when we decided to change our names to ‘Bill’ and ‘Judy’…
Judy: “I love you.”
Me: “I love you, too.”
Judy: “You’re wonderful.”
Me: “You’re wonderful, too.”
Judy: “I’m not perfect.”
…
…
Me: “I am.”
…
…
…
Judy: “Well, I tried.”
What you said: “I set the alarm for 6:00 because I have a crock pot dinner to make.”
What I heard: “I set the alarm for 6:00 because I have a cough drop in my neck.”
Continued from …Left foot first…
“They” say that the first step in a difficult journey is the hardest one. I would like to go on record and say that I can positively attest to the fact that “They” are living – and smoking something – in Colorado (or maybe Washington State), because they are hallucinating.
It may be just my rigorous Navy Boot Camp “how to start walking” training, but the first step was definitely not the hardest on this particular trip. In fact, with the exception of the last step, which was not actually taken by me, but by the people who carried me to my tent and poured me into my sleeping bag, it was, by far, the easiest.
But enough about that. I’m running out of commas and I don’t want to get caught short later in my story.
Walking in the last position in the single file formation, head lamp in the “off” position, Man of Action made it to the trail head at Happy Isles without incident. And, after a quick final equipment and “Chicken*” check, we proceeded.
*Chicken Check: A last ditch effort to separate the wheat from the chaff – one final chance for a coward to say “Oh wait! I just remembered! I have an appointment with Madame Lulu for a pedicure in the morning and I’ve already rescheduled four times and I can’t reschedule again because if I do they will just cancel me forever so I can’t do this hike with you guys. Sorry for the inconvenience. Have a nice day.”
This is where the actual ascent begins. The first major segment of the the trek is about 1.5 miles to the top of Vernal Falls, with a footbridge about 8/10 of a mile into the hike. It’s about 1000 feet of elevation gain.
We started upward. We continued upward. We kept going upward. We briefly stopped going upward after about a quarter mile to get some night shots of the moon, and take in the view of the Merced River, roaring along a hundred feet, or so, below us.
I took a couple of shots with my Android…
View of the full moon
View looking down at the river
It must have been spectacular. It certainly sounded spectacular. I really couldn’t tell because, it was one O’Clock in the morning and it was dark out. And the moon was hidden behind a thick layer of clouds. And trees. And giant rocks.
We continued on and, after about another half mile, came to the foot bridge below Vernal Falls, the water screaming below beneath our feet as we gazed up at the falls reflected in the moonlight.
We pushed forward, soon coming to the first relatively tough part of the journey – The Steps…
I took a picture…
The Mist Trail and Vernal Falls are famous for many things, three of which stand out…
One: There are a lot of granite steps involved – that’s steps as in ‘stairs’ – around 400 of them, in fact. They are not in the least bit even. Some are a foot tall, some are nearly three feet tall. Not easy on the knees.
*I once ran up these steps – 25 years ago. In the day time. Alone. When I got to the top, I thought I was going to have a heart attack. I promised myself that I would never do that again.
So far, I have kept that promise.
Two: Mist. That’s why they call it the Mist Trail. If the falls are running well, it’s really, really wet. Not “umbrella” wet. Not “light rain” wet. Think “I’m standing in the middle of a storm cloud” wet. Bring a rain poncho. And be prepared for slippery footing.
Three: Death. A lot of people die in Yosemite. Most of them die by not being careful on the Mist Trail or by being carried over the top of Vernal Falls because they ignored the warning signs and got into the water above the falls.
Fortunately, all of us on the hike are well experienced in the art of getting to the top of Vernal Falls and not getting into the water. We arrived there without incident.
I took a group shot…
Left to right:
Donna, Brian, Megan, Lauren, Shawn, Nicole (standing next to the tree) (I’m not in this one – I’m taking the picture)
Once at the top of the falls, we regrouped, which is my way of saying that they waited for me to catch up (Once again, I was my own group for a few minutes). We discussed our progress so far, carefully reviewed the next segment, took our bearings and, resuming our walk, headed out.
In the wrong direction…
_______________________________________________________________
Click here to go back and start at the beginning of the series… That would be Part .5…
“Roses always made her cry, or rather, softly weep, tears of emotion turned to substance that emanated from the deep turquoise-blue pools that were, are and forever will be, her eyes; perfectly situated somewhere near the middle of the excruciatingly nearly perfect rectangular orb that she referred to as her “face”.
“As each drop of the salty fluid fell toward the Earth, only to have its descent cruelly and prematurely halted as it struck her precisely cut slice of lemon meringue pie, it became progressively clearer to her that all of the roses in the world could not change the fact that she had ordered, not lemon meringue, but banana cream pie.”
People think I got my hair from my dad. The truth is that I got it from my brothers… Buaaahahahahahahahaha…
Things With Six Strings 