Where is my left foot?

…I only know that if you’re not careful, such invaluable glimpses become increasingly rare, the reminders begin to dim and the mind turns to whiny paste and the heart grows cold…

On saturday a cadre of some hot and some lukewarm baseball fans went to an old-timers game in Fort Lauderdale, at the stadium where the Oriole’s do their winter training. Henry took the blurry ones:

Kramer’s new photo face.

See?

Comestible

Audible

Lacking in hair

Henry and Helen B. Helen has Henry figured out.

Last night Kramer, V, T and I went down to Miami Beach to hear Bill Frisell play, and upon arriving discovered that Kramer’s pal had four tickets indeed, one each for he and his wife and two extra. We cheerfully sent V and T inside to see the show and we went for a stroll near the 71st St. causeway, stopping for 1.)gelato 2.)french fries, and 3.) pizza, in that order, the last two at the same Argentine-owned pizzeria. In-depth discussions of W.C. Fields’ greatest filmed moments resulted in dirty looks from some other patrons while one o the other of us tried to catch our breath.

See here for lost breath:

The reunion that Van Halen fans have been awaiting for twenty-two years began in December, when David Lee Roth walked into Eddie Van Halen’s Hollywood home studio.

It appears Michael Anthony, bassist and purveyor of “high, no-nut” backup vocals for the band has been excluded due to his continued association with Sammy Hagar.

Not to be entirely cynical, but I’ll give it two, maybe three gigs before the on-stage fistfights or whiskey bottle attacks commence.

~ ~ ~

Yesterday was Bill Collection Day, featuring two telephone encounters with Those Owing Me Payment. Naturally these calls did nothing for my blood pressure, which I could clearly sense rising and which affected the rest of the day. The negative energy unleashed was ameliorated somewhat by a dinner at “Wings & Curls”, which also included celery sticks with homemade bleu cheese dressing.

The engine that drives the radical Christian Right in the United States, the most dangerous mass movement in American history, is not religiosity, but despair. It is a movement built on the growing personal and economic despair of tens of millions of Americans, who watched helplessly as their communities were plunged into poverty by the flight of manufacturing jobs, their families and neighborhoods torn apart by neglect and indifference, and who eventually lost hope that America was a place where they had a future.

Adele, shot by her loving and talented brother Henry:

(The Sultry Laundress!)

Henry, shot by his loving and gregarious sister Adele:

Someone shot the dog:

Someone shot the yard (oooo…it does look good!)

Spotted by El Señor in the alley across the street:

At a warbirds museum with Grandpa Roger:

Going to a park near Grandma and Grandpa’s house:

At the park:

With Adele at the shutter:

We got home this morning at 12:30 a.m. after a 12-hour mini-odyssey, the weather in Atlanta causing some delays. This was probably the best visit we have had with my dad and stepmom, and we will not hesitate to go back. One event I should have photographed but didn’t (camera left in suitcase) was a trip to the Dallas World Aquarium on our first day there, which features an indoor rainforest, four stories tall, with real plants and real animals, and a three-toed sloth hanging around in an atrium, uncaged.