Yaba-Daba-Doo

Happy 50th Birthday
Fred & Wilma & Betty & Barney

The most recent AP NCAA Division 1-A football rankings.

#1. Some unimportant team that is just waiting to lose a game.

#2. I forget. Totally insignificant team.

#3. Who cares?

#4 THE OREGON DUCKS!!! QUACK, QUACK, QUACK!!!

#5-25. Yawners.

Tips for looking your best.

I read an article yesterday about 15 things that men can do to halt the aging process and look younger, longer. It was ludicrous piece of journalism, regurgitating the same worn out advice, like eating a well balanced diet, exercising regularly, not smoking, drinking in moderation, avoiding the sun… you know, stuff that all those “health” gurus have been droning on and on about for decades.

Phooey on them.

I have my own five rules to looking younger.

#1. Avoid not only the sun, but all bright lights. Let’s be brazenly honest: men of a certain age look their best in a pitch black room. The quality of image fades as the intensity of light increases. Anything brighter than a candle at fifty paces is a detriment to the appearance of the vast majority of mature men. It may seem cruel, but life often is less than benevolent.

#2. It doesn’t really matter what you eat. More important is who you eat with. Eat with people who look older and significantly more grizzled than you do. Frankly, I look better eating a Mickey D lunch with some old geezer from the home than I do eating a salad with my co-workers. It is simple parameter of fact: comparative youth.

#3. Don’t smoke. This has little to do with the health affects of tobacco, this has more to do with rule #1. Cigarettes give off light. They must be avoided in public spaces.

#4. Exercise is overrated to the point of exhaustion. Think about it for a moment. You exercise, you sweat. Your clothes start to cling to your body. Every roll of fat is accentuated; every wrinkle shines. And that makes you look younger? I don’t think so. Better than exercise is to wear loose, non-descript clothing that covers the vast majority of your body. I’m thinking about getting myself a man-burqa.

#5. Feel free to drink as much as you desire, but remember that the key to successfully looking younger and healthier is to make sure that everyone around you is totally polluted. Folks, I look ravishing after you’ve had about a dozen cocktails, your eyes have crossed and your forehead is resting on the table. That is my finest hour.

The Plight of 93% of Irish Barley.

Only seven percent of the entire Irish barley crop goes to the production of Guinness beer.

Obviously that begs the question: Why do they even bother to produce the other ninety-three percent? I mean seriously, the barley that is rejected by Guinness is destined to an inglorious life. In the words of that old Irish barley folksong:

If I can’t be Guinness, I don’t wanna be!
If I can’t be Guinness, there is no place for me!
If I can’t be Guinness, there is no purpose that I can see!
If I can’t be Guinness, just put me out of my misery!

Fact of the Day

In Phoenix, AZ it is against the law to walk through the lobby of a hotel with spurs on.

Now some of you may understand why I always got in trouble when I visited Arizona.

Quote of the Day.

Man invented language to satisfy his deep need to complain.

~ Lily Tomlin

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.

In 1948, 63% of Americans were opposed to racial integration in the armed forces, according to a Gallup poll.

If Truman would have put the desegregation of our armed forces up for a vote, how many of you think the U.S. Army would still have all-black brigades?

Oregon 189, Other Teams 13

It ain’t rocket science, my friends; it is fact. The Ducks are good.

But was anyone else wondering what the weather was like on September 18, 1914, in Long Lake, Washington? Happy 96th, Mom!

Mirrors are evil things.

With thanks to Pearls Before Swine.

Hood River lurches into the future.

When I moved to Hood River, there was one stoplight in the entire county: at the corner of May and 12th Streets. I’ve been told it was a recent addition to the county’s landscape.

But the next thing you know, there is a stop light at 13th and Oak; then at the eastbound and westbound exits #63 off Interstate 84; then at 12th and Brookside; and finally at 12th and Pacific. We were all reeling from all the year-round Christmas lights. With that said, for the entire time I’ve worked at the Hood River Inn, I’ve never had to encounter a stop light between home and work. That all changed today.

A county with one stoplight in 1987 has nine stoplights as of today. They illuminated the stoplights at East Marina Drive and whatever the street is named that intersects with East Marina Drive just south of the bridge to Washington, and the eastbound and westbound exits #64 off Interstate 84. There are now three stoplights between my home and work.

I am not panicked. I do remember stoplights, and know how to react to them. But what is this world coming to?

Greetings from Portland, Oregon

Yes, I am in the big city attending the Ecotourism & Sustainable Tourism Conference. Inspiration and motivation in America's most sustainable city!

Yesterday evening, a freetime from the conference, I spent hoofing around Portland's Historic Gay District. On the upside, Portland has a Historic Gay District. On the downside, it is my old stomping ground. I have a little problem with the term 'historic' being applied to the haunts of my... I can't even call it my 'youth'; more like my 'misspent early 30's'. But I swallowed my pride and toured the sites I used to frequent. 20 years later, and nothing is the same. Including me!

Sigh.

QUACK!!! QUACK!!! QUACK!!!

The football season has begun.

It was a squeaker, but the Ducks beat New Mexico 72-0. Nearly chewed my nails back to the nubbins!

Before you go any further…

Step into the kitchen and make yourself a big, stiff drink! (Okay, some of you may keep your booze elsewhere than the kitchen, so feel free to go to that location.)

There, I’ve done my part to ensure that you live longer. Apparently, there is now a study out there that says that heavy drinkers outlive abstainers.

So mothers, make sure your teenage children have plenty of gin to get them through this three day weekend.

And you’re welcome! I'm happy to do my part to guarantee your longevity!

A bit of family history

The Sunday Oregonian, Portland’s newspaper, had an obituary last Sunday for E. W. Firstenburg. (It’s not like I read the obituaries on regular basis, but in this Oregonian, the obituaries were at the end of the Metro section. And yes, even though I do not live in Metro Portland, I do read the Metro section on a regular basis.)

The name rang a bell. I read the death notice. He had worked at the Ridgefield State Bank starting in 1936, eventually buying it in 1950. Hmm… Ridgefield rings a bell. I finally pulled out the newspaper that reported on Mom & Dad’s wedding. And in the column next to the article headlined “Popular Young Couple Take Marriage Vows” was another article with the caption “Bratlie and Firstenburg Buy Sherwood Bank.” I assumed I had discovered my only reason to recognize the ‘Firstenburg’ name. But when I reread the article on the far side of the front page, titled “Shower at Stevens Home Honors Young Couple”, I realized the Mr. and Mrs. E.W. Firstenburg attended Mom & Dad’s wedding shower.

E.W.’s wife, Mary, died in 2009. They were married for 72 years. One of the last outside links to my parents is gone. And I didn’t even know they were still so close by.

Next time you raise your glass, remember the Firstenburgs.