Pull Up A Chair and Sit A Spell, I've got another story to tell.

 The best day of the week to be outside and spend a fair amount of time with my doctor. But, that was not the beginning, nor the end of this tale. It turned out to be the worse day that I have had riding the bus. Looking through the telescope of the rest of the day, pictures were excellent. But back to this tale. 

The night prior to my trip, I had spent on the computer planning the trip out so that I would have more time for photography than waiting for a bus or train. Armed with that information I went to bed and had a wonderful night of sleep. When I awoke, I hit the shower, dressed and checked my backpack to make sure it was in order, drank a cup of coffee and had an English Muffin but I grabbed the heavy coat. The temps were  in the upper 30s° F but were headed for the mid 60's. I took the garbage out and walked to the bus stop. I was a bit early by half and hour but I didn't want to miss this bus as the rest of the day relied on it. Not to be. First, the bus was 6 minutes late. Second, the driver, already being that late, flew past my stop as if he had a big teeth dog on his rear end. This was unbelievable. I have been noticing the running of red lights, had breaking and turns for a while, but that goes with the territory from time to time. This was not the time. If I had missed my doctors appointment, I would be charged as a no-show. Plus, it was darn chilly. With phone still in hand, I dialed DART for me and was glad to let the others throughout the system that had been flat out ignored to save the driver from getting a report because of his lateness ride on my back. It's one of those things that just compounds and compounds until someone puts a stop to it. (pardon that pun). 

Now, I pondered what to do next, take one of the next available buses that puts me farther from where I needed to be to catch my 360 to the doctors.Or, just cool the jets a minute and wait to see it the next would be on time ,or if I would have to wait the entire hour to get back on schedule. So, I waited. Along came the bus on the half-hour. I boarded, and  the very next stop the driver was flying through the intersection and slammed on the air breaks missing the bus shelter the length of the bus. But, he did pick up his passenger, not like his route fore runner that left me standing at my stop.

Now, catching the 360 would put me at the hospital and my doctor's office on time. Not by much, but on time. I had built in to that schedule my lunch at the taco place in the hospital atrium. I had previously enjoyed a great lunch there and I had planned that to be the same for my trip yesterday. I had also planned to walk down onto the White Rock Creek Trail both before and after my appointment for a discovery mission on spring buds. 

On seeing the doctor, the report was not as good as I had hoped.  While the past surgeries had been successful, because of the nature of them, My doctor had called in consultants into the OR rather than bringing me out of my deep sleep to ask permission for other procedures. That was the nature of the appointment yesterday. The complications and the complexity of the surgeries have not responded  totally as hoped for and the doctor after my exam and discussion, placed a call to the doctor that had been consulted during my operations. They are of two different specialties and work very well together. 

The second doctor called my doctor back and when he had described the situation to the doctor, the second doctor will set up an appointment and have me come there for a second follow up. They are going to work out a plan to put me back in perfect harmony again. So, upon leaving the doctor, I walked across the street, down the embankment to the trail and got my camera out. I needed to defog my brain at that point. After getting my near hour of shooting, I packed my camera and walked back up the embankment and crossed the street again to my stop. Along came my bus. I boarded, took my favorite seat and enjoyed the ride to the train station where I would catch my 463 bus home.

Pulling into the 360 stop position at the train station, down at the far end was my 463 waiting. I can't run, but I can walk pretty darn fast. Just when I was near 5 or 6 feet from the end of the bus, the driver closed the door and jack rabbited out on the side street. I had been waving to him, yelled a couple of "Hey" but by DART's on rules, once the bus leaves the stop they cannot take on passengers. I understand  that, but as I have seen before and saw again later that same day, drivers can pull the circle and come back around and pick up a passenger(s) from a late arriving bus or train. But, of course, this dude used that rule to his own advantage. That was the wrong button to push. Again with my phone in my hand, I did not hesitate to punch that speed dial for DART. And, yes, I filled another complaint on the 463 staff of drivers. DART can sort it out. They have cameras on the buses and at the rail stations and, that was the second time for the 463 this day (yesterday).

My pass that I had purchased before leaving the house was what DART calls their Mid Day pass. It cost more than the reduced Senior Rate for a Morning Pass or an Afternoon Pass. I usually take the Afternoon Pass because it runs from noon until 3 am the following day. The morning runs from 3 am through noon. So, I had to take the Mid day from 9:30 until 2:30 pass. My doctor's appointment was for 1:30 and any way I looked at it, I would need to buy a Senior Rate Afternoon Pass but that's okay too. I had expected that. So, the 571 pulls in and it goes to the Downtown Garland Rail and Transit Center. I could take a leisure ride there and catch the 463 coming back this way. A little father, A little longer, A little more money. But I felt good about that  for some reason, I was meant to be on that 571 that day. Then I looked at my digital ticket that had 20 minutes left and seemed to be stuck on 20 minutes. So, pulling out of the station, I noticed immediately, the movement had been slowed. It just felt better. It just felt right. I was interested at that point to observe this driver and along this route. Nothing that I had been experiencing on the 463 since the Schedule Changes on October 19th was on this route. Interesting, I thought. Not, Interesting. Something else was up. We finally get to the rail and transit center and low and behold, there sat the 463. I pull up my ticket and it says 20 minutes. I got off the 571 walked across the platform and stepped onto the 463. In some thought about the 20 minutes, even though I had paid more for the ticket than my Senior rate, this ticket was taking into account the problems created by the two 463 drivers during the day.

When the 463 pulled out of the station, there was no jerking, whirling or any of that. And, something else, the route to the old Baylor Scott and White Hospital and The new VA clinic and the Behavioral Unit that still functions, had been eliminated. I had seen a note on the web site but didn't read it because I wasn't going that way. But now the know why I did go that way, don't we? Now, not only is the situation interesting, but it is curiously much more interesting. Actually, the third bus, 360 prior to the 463 runaway, the enjoyable 571 and now the 463 again acting like a mature pup that would rather lay on the porch with his head in his paws than run and jump because he could. The entire trip was like the 571 and most noticeably to me if not others. Maybe the phone calls had done their job. I hope that someone else was helped during the day because of my experience. That's the point.

Yes, Virginia, it really does snow in Dallas

There is something topographical with where the earth formed around here from the Boot Heels of the Ozark Mountains, to the Ouachitas of western Arkansas and eastern Oklahoma. Mt. Magazine in central western Arkansas (2,753 ft (839.11 m) is the ranges highest point between the Appalachians to the Rocky Mountains.  More importantly, and from my Arkansas History classes in that ancient red book I can still visualize,"They are formed by a thick succession of highly deformed Paleozoic strata constituting the Ouachita Fold and Thrust Belt, one of the important orogenic belts of North America," (Arkansas Geological History).

Texas is more of a melting pot for weather systems where warm moist air from the Gulf of Mexico mixes with the cold air of the north. The Jet Streams bring in the warm Pacific Air and tosses it on top of the cold air with the warm moist air below it. It's one of the reasons we have tornadoes the year round. Any month of the year can produce tornadoes. But, having said all that, it messes with our snow falls. We get few chances of snow, but when we do get them, its usually a wet slushy snow. And the lay of the land, the Jet Streams moving from north to south and the "westerly and southwest winds" pretty much steer the storms because of the upper air masses causing the area closer to the ground to be warmer and the snow melts just as soon as it hits the ground. We see snow on grasses areas, railings, cars and anything off the ground a bit. Now, I don't claim to be a weatherman by any means, but I do speak weather-ease and can hold my ground when I have to. But when I went to bed last night, I knew that when I got this morning there would be no snow, not even some wet pavement to be viewed. Right on! The weather service maps showed that the snow would be light here in the metroplex and that higher amounts of snow would be well to our south Imagine that! South of an experienced and certified snow shove boy. During the blizzard of 1978, I had a 14 foot drift in my driveway that took three days to clear. I also loaded the kids on a red plastic sled and pulled them down to the end of street that t-boned our own street to watch the snowmobiles racing on the Interstate. And I have seen 17 below zero F as well. I've had my share of big winter dumps of snow over the years. And I still love 'em!

 

 

Life Is Not Fair and Neither was it meant to be

 but there are those that think it should be. Personally, I take one day at a time, don't worry about the things I cannot control and upon re-entering my house, I always say, "Thank You, Lord for returning me home safely".

Now, you are already asking what brought that on? Well, let us begin with Life is Not Fair. Yesterday was a reminder of that tenant. It started out with a bus ride being off schedule then a train ride to SMU/Mockingbird Station. My intentions were to pickup the Blue Line to the White Rock Rail Station just below Flag Pole Hill at the northern end of White Rock Lake.The platform arrival clock said that the Blue Line would arrive in 2 minutes. What did arrive was a Blue Line coming in the opposite direction. Fine. No problem.. Then the strobe went off and the announcement of the next arriving train. Obviously, I did not hear the recording that said "Red Line". Funny thing. I had come into the station on the Red Line. I boarded, thinking I was on the Blue Line and when the announcement came, "this is the Red Line. Next Stop, Lovers Lane Station." "Well, that's not gonna work," I thought. So I got off at Lover's walked over to the 583 Bus and ask if the 583 would take me to a transfer point where I could catch a bus that worked the White Rock Lake Station. The driver didn't fully understand what I was asking, She could only tell me that the bus would take me to the Skillman/LBJ Station. Knowing that wasn't totally correct, I rode her bus to the Lake Highlands Rail Station at Walnut Hill Lane. Got off and caught the next Blue Line south again to the White Rock Rail Station. Where I had planned originally to go.

Now on firm terra firma  for walking and not just seated as I moved across it, I caught the Flag Pole Hill trail that goes alongside Northwest Highway's bridges that cross White Rock Creek. and then goes under Northwest Highway at Flag Pole Hill. Now, I'm officially at White Rock Lake. Albeit about a mile and a half from the actual lake. What I should have done was to cross the street and walk toward Mockingbird Lane from the rail station. Here, I could take the trail around the lake viewing the lake as I walked and come out where I ended up coming the opposite direction. From there, I began to notice that the sun was already past its Zenith and now it was a race to the next bus stop some miles away before sunset. 

I continued on West Lawther Drive (the road on the Marina's side and the Big Thicket Cottage) toward where West Lawther could be exited about the Cultural Bath House Center (still under construction since last summer). That is where the butterfly garden is cared for by the members of the Dallas Group of Master Gardeners that does the planting and upkeep of the garden. It's like a Garden Club but issues official Credentials as a certified gardener. I stood on the trail and watched a photographer out in the high grasses with a 600mm lens shooting a Mockingbird that hangs out in the same tree as the Cooper's Hawk. I have seen some  wicked air battles between those two in the past. (Going back a bit in this story see [refrain ahead].

[ refrain] Between where the trail goes behind the Big Thicket Cottage, and runs next to Buckner Loop 12 where I could cut off some miles, I go to step up on the trail and tripped, landing hard on the asphalt surface face down. My glasses scratched on the front nose piece and both lens have deep scratches across them. But, it also got my knee, where I have had two past deep scrapes in the last year prior to and after the hospital stays. I never had those kinds of scraped as a kid. I had to wait until I had my 7th decade of life. I was doing so well. After sitting there for a bit, I managed to get up dust myself off and continue walking the trail, as the path to Buckner has been cut off by large---very large-- boulders. Now, I'm back to where I had seen the photographer in this little lesson on Life's Fairness story. But, because I have a very good understanding of the ins and outs, of trails and the offsets of some beautiful homes, I also know the roads don't go like one would think that they did, direction wise. So, in knowing  where it would come out and would also cut down on the footsteps getting to Buckner,  my two donkeys that I would always stop and wave at when I drove the lake, I bid them bye with a wave to them both. Finally, I am at Buckner and begin to walk in the bike lane toward Garland Road. I knew there was a bus shelter at White Rock Lake Hospital, although the Customer Service Rep that I had called while at the Mockingbird Bridge had told me that there was no service along Buckner.  I had not walked more than three or four tenths of a mile when the 475 going toward Flag Pole Hill zipped past me. Now, I was even more determined to keep walking toward that bus shelter at Poppy and Buckner. Upton finally arriving, the sun was down below the tree line already. Temperatures were dropping and while I had dressed in layers before heading out, I could have used that extra layer that I had tossed across the back of my desk chain before leaving the house.

Along came the bus. I ask the driver which way he would turn on Garland or if he would go straight. I was stunned, when the man said to me," Where are you trying to go?" I said to him, "I want to end up at the Downtown Garland Train Station." He then said, " See that sign on the other side of the street? Walk over there and catch the 475 and it will take you to the Lake Highland Train Station." Bingo. It would put me back at a rail station where I had got the 583 earlier to go to White Rock Lake Rail Station. But, now, I could go the opposite direction and take the rail to Garland and then catch the 463 back toward Spring Valley Rail Station, only getting off along the way with a three tenths walk and I would be home.

Mother Fairness had other plans. The 463 pulled into the station after waiting about 15 minutes from debarking the train at the Garland Downtown Rail across the street  from the Transit Center.  When he pulled in to the Transit Center, he stopped short and the sign changed to "GARAGE". While other were watching for the 463, I already knew we were cooling our jets even more for a dinner break for the driver. The transit centers are all being upgraded and are closed to the public. No restrooms, no information, nothing. So waiting in the cold was just something to endure. While I was only experiencing cold hands, there were several  young men in shorts and sleeveless shits. They knew what cold was like for sure. Finally, I see the driver come out of the driver's entrance to the transit center and the sign changed to 463 as he pulled around another bus and into his slot for pick up and debarking area. It was a lovely ride of 20 minutes to my stop and the 0.3 of a mile walk to my front door seemed much shorter than it usually does. What an afternoon adventure. I had originally boarded my bus at 12:59 PM. As I held the phone up to the keyhole of my door, the phone time read 7:59. Exactly 7 hours. The walking distance: a new record despite the banged up knee, leg and glasses. It could have been worse. When I got the camera out of my backpack, to upload my images for the day, the lens cap was also deeply scratched. I had placed the camera strap around my neck, which I seldom do. But for some reason when I took that foot patch trail back at the Big Thicket Cottage, I remember thinking, I don't want to fall with the camera in my hand. 

This morning, I noticed some slight swelling in my right hand and the wrist is sore. It's sore but the swelling is going down toward a more normal look.

Thank goodness Life is Not Fair. I won't be doing that again anytime soon. Did I mention I have a new trail bike in my living room that has less than 2 miles on it in the past two years? There is a problem with the tires holding air from the last trip to the bike shop. I'm thinking there is a snake bike in the tube somewhere. What puzzles me is that it is happening on both tires. Now, I've have had racing bikes and normal kids bikes for most of my years on this earth and never had the problem with tires that I am having with this bike. So, when I say never again, I'm calling the bike repair guy with the mobile repair shop and getting that fixed. I might try some trail riding and not all walking this coming Spring. Here in Texas that's about March  first as the flowering trees will be blooming and the trees will have new green growth. 

I can't remember the last time I had so much fun being in a boxing match with mother nature and Her sparring partner she set me up with, Life is Not Fair.

My Grandmother was right. The older I get, the more intollerant I am of myself.

                                     

 And, this COVID-19 thing has pretty much tapped out that buffer zone I always maintained. So when that happens I sit down at the keyboard and let it all flow on this blog.Well, not everything. There are some good things that I still enjoy, like Butter Pecan Ice Cream and Coconut Cake! I guess that isn't that bad. Or, talking to an old friend, Milly, after her tenure as a sectional write of the Nancy Drew Mysteries. Milly. I've wanted to reach out to you so many times over the years. I know you must be looking down an just shaking your head. It was things like this that we talked about when the city desk was slow news wise. I Miss you Mil.

What has been nagging me of late is that I watch the news (local mostly) and some of the specialty shows where some guest are interviewed in studio on the air. There are those that I simply say, "not on my TV." The David Letterman replacement for one. Colbert thinks he's funny. Actually, he's pretty sad as a host. Jimmy Fallon is another one. Letterman and Carson had class. These two yahoo's don't even come close to class.Fallen, for one screams all the time. He can't be excited in a normal tone. I like Ellen but I don't like her games where she splashes her participants into the gooks some producer cooks up. Pitiful. No way is it funny. Actually, it plays on peoples emotions and I don't like that. Never have. Never will.

It might sound like I am an old stick in the mud. If you think so from these, my past couple of paragraphs, I'll forgive you once. But don't think that I don't have the right of my opinion just as much as you think that you do also. Having said that, it brings me to my main point.

People don't listen to what they say. Then they wonder why there is so much confusion all of a sudden. It all started with my 11th grade English teacher. She is the one that agreed with me on that very point and used me as an example in here class to prove to the others and drive home that  point,"people don't listen to what they say." Since that year, it is the only thing that I note about people in a conversation. For years, I just let it slide. It wasn't worth the time or the energy. If they could not understand the point that the English teacher was trying to make---and it was a very valid point as I found out from her being the go-to-student for that kind of thing. 

During the pandemic when I sheltered in place after my surgeries, I watched more TV than I normally do. But, almost instantly, I noted one phrase that people being interviewed seemed to be using like a broken record. "Welcome to the show," the host would say. The cookie cutter replay from the guest was always , "Thanks for having me." My reply was, "She/He didn't have you. Your mother did." That phrase insults every mother when their kid tells someone else that some one else had birthed her/him and didn't even realize what just came out of their mouth. Women used the phrase more than men but even the men of a full range of ages did also.

Then, suddenly, last week, I was watching an interview about COVID-19 from a board member of one of the larger health insurance companies of some sort. I almost stopped dead in my tracks. The host did his normal lead in. "Thanks for coming today," he said. The the earth beneath my feet rumbled. The guest replied, "Thank You. It's a joy to be here today." The air just seemed refreshed suddenly around me.   

Former Dallas Police Chief, David Brown.Now,  head of the Chicago                                               Police Department. This was a good man!

Chief, you said, "don't forget the shoes."  Here they are, Sir! Happy New Year, too.

The Monk Parrot In the Header Picture

 Yes, it is a parrot. There are many stories floating abound including one I started just to see how many times it would come back to me. Surprisingly, I stopped counting at 42 times. 

They are an amazing bird. I fell in favor of their breed when I was in Brazil where parrots come in  small to extra large. Parrots in Brazil seemed to me to be like our English sparrow only much more colorful and more grace as they are larger in size. They were everywhere. It was mind-adjusting to see the parks loaded with them.  So, after seeing them spread here in the Dallas area,  it got me more interesting in the "real" story about the amazing little bird that builds 400-pound nest condos where as many as 20-mated pairs live, usually on top of cell towers or power line rigs. If you have ever seen there nest, it is a quirk in nature that such a small bird can out do even an eagle. But, they are native to South America. Not blown in by a Hurricane or migrated here for better food lots. Which was the initial concern to the Department of Agriculture. As it turned out, they have no interest in crops. Rather, surprisingly, the threat of them took the utility companies by surprise. They like the coating on cables and of course, the massive nest building efforts. One utility worker say they spent the morning cleaning out the nest in a power station only to discover after lunch that the little birds had already started rebuilding. They can cause power outages in some rare situation. Managing the nest seem to be the best solution rather than cleaning out the nest altogether.

 Another interesting fact is that they are an invasive species. Originally, they were introduced into the US as an exotic pet. Personally, the only pace we should be able to see exotic pets is in a zoo, or in pictures taken in their native country. Better yet, spend those miles and fly to the native country for a short trip. They were introduced into the states in the early 60s as a  dime-store pet. And sold as parakeets because of the exotic pet classification. Finally, in 1992 ,importation was banned. However, some individual states tolerate sale and breeding yet today. I can remember the old Woolworth five and dime,  the father of K-Mart sold them in the back corner of the stores with gerbils and fish. All the kids knew were to go in the store. Mom's tried to get them out of there with sometimes having to give in and buy the cage and the bird, or settle for a goldfish or/and the cheaper cage, a glass bowl that would hold about a gallon and a half of water was a good second choice for most. And, yet, they even sold the little boxes of fish food. The had every base covered. 

To finish up the bird story, They have an amazing range of temperatures. So does Brazil. Any way, in the states here, colonies can be found in US states: CA,CT,FL,IL,KT,MA,NJ,NY,OH,RI, TX,WA.  A total, that's 12 of the 50 states. In Dallas, I know of two colonies that are larger than 20 birds. One is, of course, White Rock Lake. The second one is at the Ron Kirk Bridge near Trinity Groves, just west of downtown. 

One thing I notice about the large colonies is that you can hear them in the distance long before you can spot one. They are friendly to some  as they have a life cycle of 20-30 years and get to where they recognize peoples patterns. I did notice last fall before my hospital tenure, that there were several baby birds looking out of the bottom of the nest opening. They can lay and hatch up to twenty eggs in 24 days. The colony count must be much larger today. I have not been able to get the lake to take a photo count WOW and another WOW.  (As seen in the header picture, You might have to enlarge a bit, but when you do you can see the birds head turned with that eye on you and even has his left claws raised as if he is waving). Yes, when I am around them, I do talk to them and they do stop to listen after they got to where they recognize my pattern with the camera or how I never run up on them where they fly off. I have some that do take to the trees but hold the territory and once in a while if the pickings are good in the reed beds, they will even stay attached to the stalks of the reeds, eat and then look up, then go back to eating. Smart little birds to say the least.

Thanks to the Texas State University System and the Texas Invasive Species Institute for help in proving accurate info. I also learned, that they track the drought resistant Buffalo Grass which is invasive and will kill out grass and native species in a heart beat if left uncontrolled. I just saw the Garland Library replant a corner in Buffalo Grass. Now, I'll keep an eye on that.

 

Ref:

Myiopsitta Mpnachus  Monk Parrot

  

Class:Aves

Order:Psittaciformes

Family: Psittacidae

It's Been A Super Busy Week because

 I've had gremlins  running through my cables the past three weeks. It took a lot of work but one was caught and the mess was put back together. Then, while I was resting after that ordeal, there was another trigger that pointed to yet another one. I tell you, those little gremlins can run at light speed. But, dang it, caught another one and in only three days. I have that second mess put back together. The surprisingly little gremlin war even allowed me to get my backup order for groceries ordered in before Christmas, since the last order day is tomorrow up to mid afternoon. 

As if that wasn't enough, however, we have had three days in a row of beautiful clear blue skies and mid 70°F. I headed to the bus stop, grabbed the Red Line South and got off at the next stop. I had been wanting to check out this one spot at the end of the off ramp from LBJ 635-E at TI Blvd. It's a T-type stop and if you race to catch the light you can't stop. The cement barrier walls with the bright yellow paint and  arrowheads at each end of the black bar, will. Reading the signs you know to turn left or turn right, but don't go straight. To date, Tex Dot has replaced the barrier no less than 10 times since the ramp opened.Yep, there is already patched concrete and new bolts in place. Ready for the next car that wants to butt heads with the barrier wall again. The guardrails looked like twisted spaghetti after the first two or three times, hence the cement barriers like those in the medians separating lanes etc.,etc. 

From there, I could not decide to walk to the next station south like I have been doing, or walk home and explore the repairs from the F-3 tornado just over a year ago. Much is still not repaired in some spots. The Presbyterian Church that lost its beautiful steeple only has a stub left and that is so sad-looking, architecturally speaking. I just kept walking and looking for shots. Still, there were worthwhile shots.

My walk was just shy of 5 miles again. But it will be another week before that 70ish temps returns. A cold front is moving past tonight. We have dropped from 74 and will bottom out at about 30ish tonight. It was delightful out, but the wind was the problem. 30-40 MPH. I can tolerate a little cold. I can tolerate  a bit of wind, but put the cold and the wind together and I'm done.

The Silver Line that will run the new European electric diesels across the old Cotton Belt tracks from Shiloh Road in Garland to Ft. Worth. broke ground this week with the first  piling in the ground complete. And with Elon Musk now a Texas resident officially, the Bullet Train from Houston to Dallas should have an interesting person watching from his drilling company. It is testing its own.  Looking to lay track in his tube devise.

It is getting exciting finally as more and more trains are coming on line to the present three and soon to be four trains that are covering 5 counties in North Central Texas---the place to be.  Not that weird place that wants to stay weird south of us. They have West by Southwest once a year. We have Deep Ellum every night of the year for nearly 100 years to the tunes of Blind Lemon and others including the Greatful Dead that recorded one of his songs that makes reference to Dallas and Deep Ellum. Not to mention up start bands and the jazz scene, too.

We also got a look at the helicopter taxis that was to have been Uber's magic hat trick, but they have recently sold the company  that was to run the show to  another company that almost immediately showed off the animated design. It's a typical helicopter with little stubbed wings and a  lot of cool stuff.  I'd ride one. It's hard to know what a ride would cost at the moment,but I'm thinking that it would be something close to a ride in the City (New York City). We might be able to put a pair of silver spurs on those in the executive suites and get the price down somewhat. You never know. Know what I mean Vern? Oh, you know what I mean. Vern, knows what I mean. This is Texas after all Y'all. 

And to close out the exciting future with more exciting future news, Texas is getting a space academy to train pilots that will take commercial paying passengers into space. It's on a 14-acre site south of here--- and that weird place.

I'm so excited I'm getting out one of my first digital cameras and looking at the lenses.I'm thinking that I'll  trade those lens in and up grade my newer digital camera body. Gee, if I can continue to walk 5 and keep loosing weight and feeling even more young than I feel, then I can keep up to those old reporters I once hung out with don't you see?  

So many exciting things going on, I almost forgot to mention that Oracle is coming to Texas with their headquarters.Texas, sorry they picked that weird place, but they will soon learn that 35E will get them here in about a 4 hour drive. If the bullet train gets finished in two years, they can be here in about 45 minutes. 

This sign picture that follows is just a few yards from TI's (Texas Instrument) south campus. The north campus is behind the photographer going the other way. The train station is just a few yards going toward the north campus. That is a bit more than 3/4 mile of plant. And the station where I got off is adjacent to TI property in every direction. The buses serve both plants as shuttles.

Well, I just hope every one has (or can make) the best of this Christmas season. The first one million have been vaccinated already in the first week.   

 

 

I Ask You. Does It Really Matter?

 I heard one of the most absurd surveys I have ever heard today. For that--- you get to see some unusual and wonderful Christmas decor. It was a reminder that we are coming up quickly on the Christmas Hour and I didn't have one image as a header on our blog. 

Now, the absurd survey was about candy canes. What way to you eat them? Hence the title because for me, and others I'm sure, how you eat your sweets is a personal choice and if it is some like the old social queen---alright, I'll say it out loud---Post, Emily.  She published more books because she found some one that is an "expert". Today there are experts on all the news shows that haul their items into a news studio and get their 5 minute spot before the cameras. It's a good thing that I have become an old man because I can get up or just sit in my desk chair and flip the remote to OFF. Which I do more of these days. 

As for Emily, she even was the founder of the Emily Post Institute. Imagine that. Beginning with 1. I bet she could make mince meat out of  how to do that  candy can routine.  I won't leave you hanging on this one. There are four ways to eat one. 1. The top, where the hook is. 2.Start at the bottom and eat upwards. 3. crush the cane and eat it like a broken cracker. 4. Break the straight shaft in half and eat one now and one later, Or my way # 5, you can go to u-tube and let them make a fortune on your answers or you can just do your thing on the U and even issue a challenge to some sucker (pardon the pun). Personally I'm gonna eat mine any way I darn please. 

Now, the much bigger question is: how are you gonna eat that bicycle wheel?