Forty years, too many beers

I noticed I'd not written much during February, and that Valentine's Dance must have taken the wind out of me. So, searching for a picture to generate a topic ("Forty Years"), I looked around my office and saw this. Funny how ideas get started, so with a couple of somewhat appropriate images to "write around", it was off to the literary races once again.

Most of that stuff dates from 1968, and the Corvette represents my 2008 model in the garage today. In 1968, I was in Thailand, doing radio and headed toward time in Germany to do both TV work and finish up again in radio with AFN, the Armed Forces Network. I had absolutely no idea of what I wanted to be "when I grow up", and perhaps today I am still a work in progress. At the dinner dance two weeks ago, I was once again behind a microphone, introducing songs and offering some musical history notes to music played by a seventeen piece "Cigar City Big Band". That solved the problem of going to the dance without a date, since my wife made it very clear she doesn't enjoy dress up functions, nor dancing. It's not religious, mind you, just her desire to enjoy being cozy with a good book while I'm looking like a penguin and standing in whatever limelight might be available.

Well, if you cared to ask, the Valentine's Dinner Dance was a resounding success, and we made $14,000 to put into our scholarship Foundation of the local Kiwanis Club. This week, I'll be writing checks to pay for the 201 meals, but having paid for the florist, the valet parking company, the band (a bargain at $2,600), and a 3.6 caret Tanzanite jewel which was our raffle prize, to clear more than we expected was just great.

Better still, the Longboat Key Club agreed to give us the room next year for the 2nd Annual Valentine's dance. We might even squeeze in an extra "ten top" table, although space limitations will probably trump crowd eagerness to participate. It's very rewarding, however, to hear positive statements about something you work hard on, and our club President Bob Gault and his wife Shannon came up with an idea and a operational plan we all applauded.

So, what else is new? Well, my daughter will visit in the coming month, and I'll head out in April for another short cruise over to Cozumel where I can stock up on Kahlua at bargain prices. We refer to it as "Mexican cough syrup" - the only hard stuff in the house. This will be the first summer where there is no Missouri condo. It sold (right at the end of the Realtor's listing, naturally), and while we didn't get our price, we got out of a third set of electric bills, other utilities and condo fees. Oh, and taxes - there is always the 'joy' of paying taxes on property you use less than half the time. So, that means our home will be Florida for 12 months of the year. Summers on this island may prove to be interesting, but with four cruise ports in the state, there's always travel opportunities within driving range. And driving (even with $4.00 a gallon gasoline) gets me back to the start of this blog entry and the 1968 microphone and 2008 Corvette. See, you can travel forty years and get back on one visual stimuli. I therefore have proven the ability to not only talk in circles, but write in them as well.

Big Band Saturday Night Valentines Dance

Last night I put on a tuxedo, and went to the dance, featuring the seventeen piece Cigar City Big Band. The band, out of Tampa, plays hits from the 30's, 40's and 50's, which as you know is the Big Band Era. The event itself was a Valentine's Sweetheart Fundraiser, for our local Kiwanis Foundation of Longboat Key. I'm the Secretary of the Club, and was part of the organizing committee. Much of the credit goes to Bob Gault, our club President, and his wife, with able assistance from several other members on our 56 person roster. The event was pulled together in just three short months, and was sold out. We made a nice chunk of change to fund local scholarships.

Now, I had very little intention of doing much more than the normal administrative chores of a club Secretary, and once I had filled 20 tables and had decided who would sit where and with whom, my job was over. Yes, I went to all the committee meetings at Bob's house, but mostly for the wine and cheese that his wife, Shannon, would set out. My wife was happy to not have to cook on those same evenings, and the committee was made up with friends whom I enjoyed spending time alongside, anyway. Two of the committee, Andrew and Ramona, are shown in one of the pictures in this blog entry, all dressed up and ready to dance.

Now, I was all dressed up that night, but that afternoon while helping set up the room, I learned that the band had a "program" done in the fashion of a 1940's radio show, with an announcer. There was even a line in the script that talked about "this program is being heard overseas through the services of Armed Forces Radio". The band leader, who also doubles as a trombone player, was prepared to do the part of announcer and band leader. Once he learned of my past, as a real announcer with Armed Forces Radio, he asked me if I would like to do the role. Well, you can figure out the rest. I had a GREAT time, even if I came home with half my dinner in a doggie bag. Getting to introduce tunes, and tell a little history about them, I was back in my element of 45 years ago. It was a tremendous amount of fun.

Oh yes, toward the end of the evening, I was able to break away and have some fun with a few friends - our President took the liberty of snapping this picture, with me and five friends. It was among the many I had taken during the event, but this shot was not discovered as having been taken by my own camera until later, at home, showing my wife a bit about the night. I guess I ended up showing more than I needed - oh well, I did get a potential job offer to work for the band on occasion as their announcer. I gotta do something about that damn cummerbund however, and tell the dry cleaner "less starch" in the collar. Talk about setting the "way-back machine", this was a role from before I was even born. What a shame we can't relive our youth every night.

Just a bit more Ripley, for his fans everywhere

I took a lot of pictures at the dog park on Saturday morning. Ripley was in some, not in others, and in some cases I thought he was in a picture, but was wrong - he's that fast.
In these pictures, he's perfecting his ballet moves - the three point stance (you though he was just lifting his leg), and another picture is his Farrah Fawcett impression, where he flips his ears (work with me, here) around. The other picture shows one of the "adopt me" beagles checking out Ripley. Those beagles auditioning for new owners wear yellow scarves, which read "adopt me". They were of course the majority of dogs present, but many dogs like Ripley are graduates of the program, and have come back to run with the pack. Ripley wore both his collar and his harness, just in case he ran too far with the pack and escaped. He's got such a smooth coat, it would be like trying to catch a greased pig, so he wore all of his gear should I have to run and catch him. Of course, that assumes I could catch him, and also begs the question "is there a doctor in the house" once I did catch him.

The top photo is that of Homer, "the pirate", who is a very old beagle who lost an eye, and has appeared on the web wearing an eye patch and a pirate hat. Homer jumped into my wife's lap at one point, trying his best to get somebody to read his scarf and adopt him. Homer also has a "docked" tail, just why somebody early in his life (before he was rescued) did that to him is unknown. Beagles, which were originally bred for hunting, have a white tip to their tale, known as a "flag". Poor Homer the Pirate, his flag has been struck, and his tail has been docked, and his original owners cast him adrift. He is the ultimate rescued sailor, but now lives with hope that somebody will adopt him and give him a "fur ever" home.

Ripley today is entertaining Sassy, our son's dog, and will spend Super Bowl Sunday as an overnight guest while our son does the young people thing. Sassy has just now destroyed a very old Millie toy. I'll present my son with a bill if the carnage gets too extreme. Ripley is holding his own, naturally.

Beagle Meet-Up at Tampa Park

Today was a Ripley day, with the morning spent amongst his many friends and fellow beagles at the Al Lopez Park in Tampa. The Tampa Bay Beagle Rescue holds these "meet & greets" several times a month, and today the bell was rung twice as two families completed the adoption of their rescued beagle, and took the dog to its "fur ever" home.

Tampa Bay Beagle Rescue (check out their web site) does an excellent job in placing dogs, starting with a foster family. That's Ripley's foster mom, Lori, holding him, and his foster dad, Kevin, in the background. Today Lori and my wife were able to spend a lot more time talking about Ripley, and we learned that he's come a long way from when Lori and Kevin got him. They're very happy with Rip, and glad for us, but we know they miss this little guy. If we go on vacation, Ripley has an open invitation to stay with them.

While in Tampa, Ripley discovered his inner beagle AND his voice - he's been a notably quiet dog, but when he discovered the fun of running with the pack, he jumped in with all four paws. We haven't heard him say that much in the two months we've had him. Ripley also asserted himself quite well, in telling a couple of the more ambitious beagles he wasn't interested in their overly amorous instincts. Now we know the beagle words for "put that pistol back in it's holster, I'm not having any of that stuff today".

On the way back to Sarasota, Ripley slept. We were going to stop at a pet store and purchase some dog shampoo (did you know the best stuff has oatmeal in it?), but when we got there we also saw a "mobile pet wash" called Bubbles. So, we bought the shampoo for another day, but spent $12 to get Ripley all clean, shiny and smelling much better. The dog park is a great place for fun, but in the end, fun is only the first three letters in the word funky, and that's how he smelled.

As I write this, he's still asleep in the corner, and after a hard days work at the dog park, no wonder.