BURP!!

There's a restaurant called "Rosy Tomorrows" in Danbury, CT, just off Interstate 84; Eve and I have dined there from time to time on our periodic trips to and from New England. We stopped there for lunch on our way to Boston in June. The Tower of Onion Rings was one of the eye-catchers on the menu and we, craving greasy fried foods more than our doctors would have liked, took the bait. We finished the whole thing, too. Very tasty at the time, but viciously vengeful in the aftermath. It would have been a bumpy night even if we hadn't been sleeping on an air mattress in my daughter's apartment.

Life is Good, With the Right Altitude

We encountered this young lady at the Life is Good Festival on the Common in Boston on June 20th. I was hoping she'd turn to face me, but I had to settle for a high-elevation posterior shot. I didn't even notice the "Mr. Nut Roasted" sign until I pulled the print out of the soup. I'm still trying to come up with a clever connection; but, the way my mind works, it wouldn't be suitable for a family-oriented blog.

Reinholds Inn

Here's a view of the Reinholds Inn in Reinholds, PA, about 10 miles from where I live. It's a favorite spot for the biker crowd to go for wings, burgers and beer on a Sunday afternoon. See the cat in the middle window upstairs? It's a ceramic tiger. Just thought you'd like to know.

Nora Jeanne Molyneaux, Take III

Oh, my GAWD!! Yes, she's definitely prettier than that nasty old Soviet ammo-carrier in the last post. Here's another shot from our visit with our sweet little granddaughter several weeks ago...

Вели́кая Оте́чественная война́

The Velikaya Otyechestvennaya Voyna arguably stands as the high-water mark of Soviet patriotism from the 1917 revolution until the days of Sputnik and the manned Earth orbit of Yuri Gagarin. The fellow in the photograph was one of the Soviet reenactors at the Mid-Atlantic Air Museum's 2009 World War II weekend at the Reading Regional Airport on the first weekend in June. The uniform appears to be naval, but I'm curious about the death's head insignia on the left sleeve (I didn't get a chance to ask at the time I took the picture). If any reader of this feuilleton happens to know anything about Soviet uniforms of the Great Patriotic War, I'd welcome some information. Whatever the full explanation, it's quite clear this chap is well-armed, assuming he has some kind of a mechanism for aiming and firing the ammunition he wears with such obvious pride.

Nora Jeanne Molyneaux, Take II

At the Life Is Good Festival, Boston Common, June 20, 2009. Who's Imitating Whom? Vocalizing, June 20, 2009, Boston, MA. You were warned several days ago. Grandfatherhood is bringing out the Daddy in me, and one of the results is photographs like the above, which I took during a visit to Lindsay and her family in Cambridge at the end of June. So, among the nostalgia pix I plaster up on this wall, from time to time you'll see up-to-the-minute images of persons and things I find significant in the moment. In the words of the promoters of the June 20 Boston Common festival, life, indeed, is good.

"Tinhorns, Cheapskates & Stuffed Shirts"

There's a place in Washington State's San Juan Islands called Boat Harbor. Back in 1966, a family named the Kendalls owned it. They maintained a rickety boat landing dock, but did not necessarily welcome visitors, as witness the rather poorly preserved photograph above. Despite the fact that the Kendalls were not famous for their hospitality, my Seattle relatives and I tied up at the Boat Harbor dock one July day and went ashore for a visit. Of course, we dispatched one of my young cousins up to the haunted-looking house on the hill overlooking the harbor to pay the landing fee; we could afford it because we had no stuffed shirts or cheapskates aboard. After consulting the Ship's Dictionary (American Heritage) for a definition of "tinhorn" (a petty braggart, esp. a gambler, who pretends to be wealthier than he is), we decided none of us fit that category, either. Interesting place, that Boat Harbor, with some sort of a history (which I don't recall in any detail) as a base for pirates or smugglers or other shady swashbuckling types, and the wreckage of a square-rigged vessel set into a concrete foundation along the shore. From this distant perspective in time, I wonder how much, if at all, the landing fees have gone up. Or whether the place has been overrun by tinhorns, cheapskates and stuffed shirts. I can't seem to find the Boat Harbor Yacht Club anywhere in cyberspace.