My day began with my subconscious waking me up three minutes before the alarm was due to go off ... nice! I lay there, all cuddled up and cozy warm in my blanketed cocoon, thinking, "I wonder what time it is. Is it time to get up yet?" And then tried to resurrect coherent memories of my just-concluded/interrupted dream. Forget it! All gone, but I think it was a good one!!
Came in here to check e-mails ... mostly 'junk', but each week I seem to be able to pare away a little more of the junk that I inadvertently signed up for many many months ago, when I was (quite literally) a non-savvy computer user. (I'm still not very 'savvy', but I'm getting better at it.)
I checked Steven's blogsite first thing (always!), and was really pleased to note that he was featuring a Clyde Beatty film. Boy, did that take me back! Fifty or more years, I would guess ... long before most of you were born, I betcha!
It runs more than an hour, so I thought I'd start watching it to see if I'd like to continue it later, and yes I would! I was only able to watch the first twelve minutes or so before I had to leave the house to pick up one of my personal customers to go to the airport, so I paused it to watch the rest later at my leisure.
I recommend it to you now (altho the rest of the movie has not as yet been viewed by me). I must warn you, however, that as soon as you click onto that link the movie will start. You'll have enough time, tho, to read all of Steven's prefacing remarks before the actual story begins (you know, intros and all that good stuff) and not miss anything, I can guarantee you that much.
I allowed extra time to get to Celia's (customer's) house because I knew that I had to put gas in the car. Stopped at the station closest to my home. Went to two different pumps. The first pump gave me fifteen cents worth. The next eighteen! I thought, "What the devil?!?"
I went inside to the clerk and asked, "What the devil?" He said, "We're out of gas." Isn't that 'cute'? (Can't put notices up on the pumps? What's with that?!?) So I continued on up the road and paid eighteen cents more per gallon for the 'privilege'. Yuk!
On the way to Celia's, I had the radio on. Man oh man! Jitterbug music!! My mind took me back to - centuries ago, it seems now - when I 'could have danced all night'!
(There'll be at least one post coming at you in the future on dancing. Meanwhile, are any of you watching "Dancing with the Stars"? Warren Sapp, a pro football player - and one who weighs in at something over 300 pounds, purportedly - is still in the competition!! Do you want to allow your face to just 'smile all over'? Watch "Dancing" tomorrow night from 7-8:30pm CST or Tuesday from 7-8pm CST for recaps of the dances from tomorrow night's competition [new this year - love this show!] followed by - if you have enuf time in your busy schedule - the results from 8-9pm CST. You might not be able to hold your breath long enuf between commercials and the extraordinarly long pauses before the final results are announced - it's the highest rated show on TV, and they take full advantage of the opportunity to build the suspense - a 'downer', in my opinion.)
I'm going to conclude this post by talking about one of Charles Osgood's features this morning. I must apologize to you by not being able to name the state (I missed the very first part of the feature). The name of the town is "Oxford" ... whether it's Mississippi or some other state, I could not begin to venture a guess. I have the feeling that it's a northern state, altho I cannot say for sure, but let me give you the story. You'll like it, I think.
It seems that there was a young photographer who had relocated to a town where - even after twenty years - he thought he would still be considered a 'stranger', an outsider, as it were. He really wanted to meet and get to know his neighbors better, and so he thought it would be a good idea to offer free photographs of everyone in the town.
He advertised. No one came to his free offering, so he took to 'waylaying' anyone and everyone he could (including small children) off the streets to snap their pictures.
Twenty years later - photos and negs still in his files - one of his associates asked, "Whatever happened to the 'Oxford project'?" as it was now known. Well, nothing had happened. All was lying dormant.
Associate then suggested that there has got to be a book here! And, of course, there was - going back and taking photos of the same folks twenty years later and getting their stories - a great feature. If you missed it, perhaps you can catch it on the internet? I don't know. It's a 'warm fuzzy'.
Hope all of you are having a warm fuzzy day.