This is a photo I tinkered with in the Paper Artist app on my Galaxy smartphone.  It’s the Morning Glory growing on our fence in the backyard.  I love how the vine looks like hair cascading around the metal sun face mounted to the wood.

So, of course, I’ve had the lyrics to the 60’s show “Hair” floating through my brain.  I actually saw the West Coast production at the Aquarius Theater in Los Angeles, probably some time around 1967-68.  Groovy, man.  And they did come out into the audience, as in this video.  But we weren’t as “Tony” as this crowd.  :)



Headlines We Won’t See Today

From The Daily Kos:  

Police shout obscenities, point guns at angry tea party protesters

Ferguson police release incident report on Michael Brown death

Bundy ranch militia members arrested for pointing weapons at police

Newspaper headline regarding Dwight Eisenhower's farewell speech

A headline we did read 54 years ago.

Rick Perry presidential prospects brighten

George W. Bush sees irony in crying out in agony as water dumped on head, threatening ability to breathe

Caligraphist runs out of room while listing Eric Cantor’s achievements as House majority leader on grain of rice

More Democrats than Republicans booked on Sunday morning shows

ISIS leaders smarter than a fifth grader

Cows admit role in global warming, form climate task force

Saturday Night Live expected to be the same without Don Pardo

Majority of Americans agree: summer going by too slowly


Fighting Words from Rick Perry

From The Borowitz Report on The New Yorker:

AUSTIN (The Borowitz Report)—Lashing out at what he called the “Soviet-style” tactics of the indictments against him, Texas Governor Rick Perry said on Tuesday that the government had “grossly overstepped its traditional role of mandating transvaginal ultrasounds.”

Speaking to supporters in Austin, Perry blasted the indictments and called for a return to an era of limited government that focuses on requiring gynecological procedures.
“We are living in dark days indeed when the state of Texas is spending time and money probing its officials instead of its women,” he said, to thunderous applause.




Smile, You’re Not on Candid Camera

I notice people’s teeth.  Always.

I guess it must be the curse of being an ex-dental hygienist.

Most of the time it’s a pleasant preoccupation. After twenty years of peering and poking about in untold hundreds of mouths, I find I do appreciate a nice set of choppers, whether they belong to a man or a woman.

Then there is the stuff of nightmares.

The other day I was at Walmart (where else?) to return a top I’d bought the day before. I hadn’t bothered trying it on because I thought I knew that particular brand well enough to just grab the size I’d always purchased before.  You’d think clothing sizes will be predictable enough to make that leap of faith, but no….and it always cheeses me off when I make that mistake.

There already were two people at the customer service desk and another woman standing pretty far back out toward the main aisle, but I knew she must be in line so I stood just behind her.

With only one customer service gal working slowly and methodically, it was obviously going to take a while.  I stood there patiently, listening to my arteries hardening.

Then, someone tapped me on my shoulder from behind.

I turned and saw two men standing there.  One was over six feet tall and at least 250+ pounds.  He was wearing overalls and a baseball cap of some kind.  He spoke first:

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Um.  Sure.”

“Where am I?”

I was nonplussed.  There was a disorienting moment when I wondered if a hidden camera was recording this conversation to be shown later on TV.  “Woman at Walmart made to look like an idiot!  Watch it at 7pm Eastern, 6pm Central!”

Then the woman in line in front of me turned around, laughed and said, “I know it’s a Monday, but I didn’t know it was that bad!”

So I meekly said, “Do you mean what city… or…what state?”  I could have included “what planet?” but didn’t.

The questioner said he thought he was in Austin and I told him, no, he was about 70 miles off.

He turned to the much smaller, thinner character with him and laughingly chided him for taking the wrong turn.

Directions to his destination were hammered out with the input of the woman in line and he and his partner moved along.

Okay.  Let’s talk teeth.  The big guy had several spaces in his upper dentition, and the remaining soldiers were coated by a lovely shade of ecru with brown overtones.  His buddy, who was a dead ringer for Cletus the Slack-jawed Yokel, had an even more eclectic set of chompers.  He had one of those faces that reminds me of an ax blade–everything comes forward into a sharp angle.  The nose, the mouth, the chin.  His teeth looked tentative, like they weren’t sure if they were coming or going.  They, too, were somewhere in the yellow/brown position on the color wheel.

Like I said, it’s a curse.

Then, there’s the lady at my gym who likes to sit in the nude on the bench in the locker room after she’s had her swim.  Why is it the ones who shouldn’t be sitting around naked are the ones who insist on doing that?  There are several older ladies who do that, even though there are perfectly good shower stalls with curtains to change behind.  But no, they have to sit there and let everything, literally, hang out….and down.

Poster girls for gravity.

The lady I initially mentioned also likes to talk.  And she wears dentures that haven’t had a good brushing or Fixodent liner in a coon’s age.  It is quite disconcerting to watch her talk (it’s not a two-way conversation) because her upper denture gradually comes sliding down and gets periodically pushed back into place by her wagging tongue.

It reminds me of the movie “Alien,” where the retractable jaws of the creature suddenly protrude from its mouth, terrorizing Sigourney Weaver.

For that brief moment, I am Sigourney Weaver.

Noticing teeth.  It’s a curse.