Captured on Film

I present here, for the first time, a photo of UPS trucks mating in the wild. Scientists have long thought that this is the origin of the mini UPS trucks you see driving around, but no one was sure until now. I offer up this photo as proof for the world to see.

Something Else Not Often Seen ...

... an intergalactic mugging. Just putting this out there as a general warning. All that stuff you hear about the Galactic Federation and everybody being all lovey-dovey – what a bunch of crap!

More Q&A with TQ

Q: Did you document your first green beer?

A: Yes! It was St. Patrick's Day 1981, down on Laclede's Landing in St. Louis. I believe that was the same day we went to the zoo and a pigeon pooped all down the front of my sweater. Memorable day.

Q: Who do you think styled your hair that day?

A: I'm not sure, but it looks like someone from the Tupperware Company, bowl division.

Q: Have you recently come across

 another great book title?

A: Oh, yeah! Absinthe & Flamethrowers: Projects and Ruminations on the Art of Living Dangerously, by William Gurstelle, the same guy that brought you Backyard Ballistics. This guy's got it going on!

Minnie and Spotted Dick

Saturday's shopping excursion to Malbis, on the east side of Mobile Bay, proved fun and thorougly legal, despite speculations of jail time. Karen was great and didn't let a migraine stop her from adventure.

We shopped – well, mostly I shopped – and the stores were all having sales. A birthday party in the mall's common area included an appearance by Minnie Mouse, which I promptly got in on. She was on her way out and in a hurry, probably because her feet hurt from those

crazy red heels she was wearing. She was really working that red dress, but I still think I had it all over her.

I knocked over a plant in Pottery Barn with my purse,

pretty much the minute we got in there. We went on to World Market, scouring it for Pez and Spotted Dick. The Pez was sparse. We made up for that by trying to come up with the many ways I could ask for assistance finding the other.

"I'm looking for Spotted Dick."

"Could you show me your Spotted Dick?"

"I need some Spotted Dick."

"Sir, where is your Spotted Dick?"

The Spotted Dick will be a surprise in the mail for one of my blog readers (you probably know who you are). Can't wait to declare that to the Post Office when I mail it ("Anything fragile, liquid, hazardous or persihable?" "Uh, all of the above?" Well, probably not that perishable).

Found a treasure trove of my favorite candy bar, Rocky Road, and bought all they had. Sounds like a lot, but there were only six. They didn't melt in the car! Hooray!

And we all lived happily ever after. Until the next blog.

Q&A with TQ

Q: Have you ever stuffed yourself into a dumbwaiter?

A: Of course! But I was younger and apparently more limber. Not to mention stupid.

Q: Did you make it to the bottom floor?

A: No, thankfully no one pushed the buttons or I may be chopped liver right now.

Q: How many Pez do you have in your collection?

A: About 600, plus all the other stuff like Pez race cars, watches and lip gloss. There's also a Pez costume, but that's fodder for another post. Stay tuned – same Bat Time, same Bat Channel.

What Happens at the Drive-In, Stays at the Drive-In

The human brain is fascinating in that it can forget what you had for breakfast, while remembering the TV theme to Davy Crockett after 40 years ("Davy/Davy Crockett/King of the wild frontier). My brain also managed to remember the name of one of the midnight shows at the drive-in after all these years.

Wanda, the Wicked Warden was on the marquee outside the Hollywood Drive-In in Sandoval, Ill., one day. Driving by – well, I probably was riding by – the title caught my interest. The alliteration was probably what made it stick in my head as much as the visual imagery it conjured up. Those campy, late-night shows always had the best (funniest) titles.

It popped into my head again the other day and I Googled it. Wow – up pops a poster for Wanda the Wicked Warden! I can't believe it! Not only am I not nuts in remembering it, the poster was hilarious.

At Sam's Club last week I got even more drive-in camp: four boxed sets of movies that were no doubt first-run at the drive-in. Remember how horrible those were? Virtually no production values, terrible acting, laughable sets and non-existant plots. They were just something to do when you had nothing to do on those hot summer nights, especially if you're weren't so much interesting in the action on the screen as in the car.

I feel sorry for the folks who missed the days of the drive-in. It was so different than seeing a movie in the theater. Dancing hot dogs and hamburgers on the screen and sometimes dancing on the cars. I saw The Rocky Horror Picture Show for the first time at the drive-in. What a blast! Dancing in the cars, dancing in the aisles, toilet paper flying everywhere ... those were the days.

Friends Famous for Fifteen Minutes

I've been experimenting with some iconic treatments of classic pictures of friends. Two examples are shown here, one of my friend Keith in a musical as Groucho Marx, who is a favorite of his. The other is Di Anna, naturally competitive, shown in a great pose. I did one of my mom from the '40s in her swim suit, but it has been lost on my computer. It may still exist on the home computer.

These got printed out on canvas and wrapped on stretcher bars like any other  piece of artwork – an oil painting, for instance. I think it makes a great presentation. The square one is a great 16x16 size, kind of like a record album cover. The rectangular one is about 22-24 inches long. 

Just wanted to hear what you guys think about 'em.

Twenty-first Century Fox

The other day I realized that I was carrying around my latte and jump drive like a 21st century version of coffee and a cigarette – holding the paper cup in my right hand, with the first two fingers clutching the drive like a cigarette.

A far cry from 1984, when a photographer plopped me down in front of a VDT to take my picture for a journalism scholarship I was awarded. I'd never seen this machine in my life. I wasn't working at the college newspaper yet and other than that there was no computer to be had anywhere. I was scared to death, thinking that I would someday have to work on a computer.

Now technology is a lot of fun and shows up in some really odd places. I even got a CD in my 3-pack of Puffs this morning. "The History of Snot," or something. Perfect for allergy season!

I Get Blamed for Everything I Do, Part 2

Followers of this blog will recall the fire I set a couple of weeks ago in the mailroom. Unbelievably, on Friday I was asked to help in there again. No flames this time, mainly because I was asked to run a different machine.

Oh, yes, I was asked to run the tabbing machine, a machine I had never run before. We were in a hurry, trying to get a job tabbed and addressed and to the Post Office by the end of the day Friday. Too bad we didn't start until about 3:30.

Tabbing went pretty well for a few minutes, then I managed to create a huge jam in the machine. No one had given me the critical info about the location of the "off" switch, so that just made matters worse. See photo at right.

Everything got sucked up in that thing! Stephen cleared the jam for me and got me going again. Another jam, little brother of the first jam. I was then released from duty until the whole problem could be fixed. Needless to say, the job didn't make it to the Post Office on Friday. It's now Monday morning and I think we're about to go back in there to try to finish it. Stay tuned.

Dear Unsolved Mysteries: I Found Everybody

It was a fantastic spring day to be out "blowing the stink off," as my mother would say. Gorgeous day, probably 76 degrees, breezy. Karen and I went down to Art in the Pass to check out the festival and to hang out with our artist pal, Elizabeth Huffmaster.Well, the artists weren't the only ones with sights to see. Baghead lady came by first. 

As soon as I saw her I launched myself out of my chair and ran over to follow her. Apparently she was afraid her hair would get messed up in the wind, so she was clutching a gray shopping bag over her head. OK, so you're afraid your hair will get messed up and you'll look stupid, so you wear a bag on your head. Whatever.

Then this LARGE pink and black thing rolled by and of course I ran after it. Couldn't capture the front of it, which was truly the best view, but you get the idea. Sequined pink tank top, lots of tattoos, pink stiletto heels and a cigarette hanging out of her mouth. That's class, right there.

I figure that you know you came out of the house looking like that, so I'm snapping the pics. And if you're walking around with a bag on your head, well, don't look now because here I am.

Welcome to an occasional feature: Q&A with TQ

Q. When someone asks you if you have any children, what do you say?

A. Yes, I have an 83-year-old.

Q. Who would you like to play you in the movie of your life?

A. Teri Garr. Or maybe Don Knotts

Q. If everbody decided to Wang Chung tonight, would you?

A. Absolutely!

Q. What are some of your favorite book titles?

A. That's easy! "Cancel Your Own Goddamn Subscription," by William F. Buckley and "Give the Bitch Her Chocolate," by Ed Polish and Darren Wotz.

There's Something Wrong with Mother

My intention was to post daily or at least every other day and now my schedule is screwed up right from the start.

I got a "surprise" reminder call from my mother's gastroenterology doctor's office on Tuesday reminding me of her appointment for yesterday that I'd forgotten all about. I hadn't even told her about it. I've taken her to so many doctor appointments and bloodlettings lately that they don't phase me anymore.

So I call her with the news that she's going to yet another doctor she's never heard of and that we're going in just a couple of hours. We trek over there, have a chat with the doc and my mother decides that she doesn't want to have a scope put down her stomach. Fine with me. Then she tells the doctor, "I don't understand ... all these doctors seem like they're just trying to keep me alive."

I thought the poor man was going to bite his lip in half to keep from laughing. I added, "Can you imagine that?" and he started chuckling a bit. So much for that complete waste of an office visit.

When I had taken her to the kidney doctor two weeks ago, she's exasperated and asks me, "Why can't I just die?" I told her we were right next to the railroad tracks and I could set her on the tracks. A train is bound to be along sooner or later. She starts giggling. "Or, we're right next to a busy intersection. You could go play in traffic." Luckily the day got a little lighter after that.

So, I've been too busy answering questions like that to post. Sorry! Hopefully I'm back on track now.