TIME OUT

For those of you who follow the BFZ regularly (all three of you) I want you to know that posting is going to be kind of spotty over the next couple of weeks. My brother, John, is getting married TOMORROW to my good friend, Lisa Richard, and the whole family has flown in from the eastern seaboard. So, to make a long story short, I am apologizing in advance for the lack of posting during the next couple of weeks.

Happy Thanksgiving!

WILD WOMAN

"I found a wild woman and took her as my wife.
She'd been living in the woods, a wild sort of life.
She was straight and brown just like the pines-
Her hair a wild tangle of vines.
I bought my wild wife a bed,
But she preferred the ground instead,
And the clothes I bought her at the store-
She threw about and never wore.
She walked the streets like a hunted thing,
Or maybe she was a-hunting-
With girls like her it's hard to say
If they are predator or prey,
But to be safe I thought it wise
To tell the guys, "Avert your eyes."

THE FLAVOR OF THE MONTH- NOVEMBER

If November were a color it would be brown. Perhaps, it is not quite so brown as March or early April, but it follows October like an ugly Sister, and looks all the browner for it. By comparison it cannot help but appear dreary, monochromatic and glum. The naked trees, the blackened leaves, and the cold, metallic water speak of an in-between place. November is in limbo between falling leaves and falling snow. Falling snow is preferable.

VETERANS DAY

The BFZ would like to extend a heartfelt "thank you" to our nation's veterans for their service to the country.

SOME ARE FRUSTRATED THAT THEY CANNOT COMMENT ON THE ABOVE POLL...

so I will create this as a separate post, which will allow you to comment on the poll. Here is the comment thread up to this point;

The Fredericksons commented thusly-

I was greatly intrigued by your poll. However, I found it very hard to vote. Why did you not specify who was hurt? Me or the groom? It matters significantly. This is quite the loaded scenario. I will be closely following to see how the BFZ followers vote.

Steve commented thusly-
If I understand this hypothetical correctly, several of your readers would abandon a beloved fiancée if a tragic accident rendered conventional sex impossible. This is a repulsive moral choice.


To which I replied thusly-

Explain yourself, Steve Maxon. As anyone who knows me well can attest, your opinion carries much weight with me and I will listen with receptive ears.



I do have to point out though that nothing was ever mentioned about abandoning anyone. Not going through with a marriage is not entirely the same thing as abandonment, especially in light of this scenario. What is a marriage without sex? (Please note-In the scenario I make no distinction between conventional intercourse or otherwise.) Visualize marriage without sex- Two close roommates with pooled resources. That is not the fullness of what that experience ought to be, and if no vows have been made I think I would make as gracious an exit as possible. After one has promised before God and witnesses "until death do us part," than you better man up and be the best darn spouse you can be for the duration. Doing so as enxpression of love to your spouse as well as to God, but no such vows or obligation fetters the decision of a single person. You should experience the fullness of what marriage can be. You should not march like a martyr into a life of unrequited passion and dutiful cohabitation.


I think the decision not to marry would be gut-wrenching and difficult, but ultimately morally defendible.

So there, now you're up to speed. Comment away my fellow citizens of the BFZ. Or don't. Whatever.

EPIC ARM WRESTLING BATTLE BETWEEN MY BROTHERS JOEL AND JOB BROUGHT TO YOU BY MY GOOD FRIEND AND BFZ CORRESPONDENT, STEVE MAXON

Who will win? My money is on JT.

SLEEPING CLUB- ALVAREZ AND SUNSET

At the corner of Alvarez and Sunset sat a shuttered and forgotten furniture store. At least that’s how it appeared to Steven Welcome who looked on from the air-conditioned comfort of his BMW. A poster with the name of a commercial real estate agent and a phone number were plastered prominently on the front door of the place. Steven produced a pad of paper and wrote down the name and number.

Floor to ceiling glass windows ran the length of the storefront facing Alvarez Street. They wrapped around the corner and continued along Sunset before coming to an asphalt parking lot in the rear of the store. Broken glass sparkled uniformly across the surface of the parking lot. Plastic bags, fast-food packaging, and such had been deposited by the wind and collected into its corners. A homeless man slept in the skinny shade next to the building. A heaped shopping cart stood nearby.

The furniture store was surrounded on all sides by night clubs, bars and restaurants. As Steven took in the scene, the corner looked competely deserted. Alvarez and Sunset was the sort of place that came alive after the sun went down. Memories of the corner were always bathed in a purple glow as if cast from a neon light. On most nights. music and revelers would spill out into the streets and cars filled every available parking space. Cruisers rolled slowly past as groups of people, smiling and dressed to impress, laughed and made their way from one establishment to the next. Others walked alone with shoulders hunched. Throngs of people, slightly warm around the edges and following after various appetites, were drawn to the scene by night, but by day the place was all but deserted. The old furniture store looked entirely out of place among its sexy neighbors.

“This must have been a different sort of neighborhood at one time,” thought Steven to himself. “I wonder what Aunty wants with this place.”

I sat with you once in my boat. Remember that? We sat in the middle of the lake, way, way out. It was well past midnight as I recall. There was no wind, and no moon to speak of either- just the dripping oars, and my shoes scuffing the aluminum.

The shore was a perfect field of black. Remember? And when the train rounded the bend, it was like a prick of light in the upper left-hand corner, which grew and grew until I sat in its flickering light and its rumble interrupted our talk.

After it passed I prayed the question.
You know the one.
Remember?

It was the same question I asked that night behind the counter of the Econo Lodge- just me, you and the ticking clock. I prayed the question then too, and you answered me. Remember?

BEARDS OF IDYLLWILD- Special Halloween Edition

This past Sunday night, Halloween, Sarah and I took the kids into town for the annual Halloween shindig in the middle of town. There were some amazing beards on display, which, of course, I photographed. I want you to know though that there is one beard here in the San Jacinto Mountains that has so far eluded my camera. It has become my Moby Dick, and I will not rest until I have posted his bearded visage like a trophy in the paneled halls of the BFZ. It is the longest, fullest, most hillbilly looking thing you have ever seen. It's wild. I think it must have taken this man decades to grow, but everytime I have encountered him I did not have my camera handy. I will be patient like a good hunter. I will frequent his haunts- smokey diners, parking lots, and the town dump. I will bide my time until the mighty stag wanders into the sights of my camera.  "Click!" Gotcha!!!

 Having said that, here are some of the more famous bearded personalities from Idyllwild. "The parrot guy."

 The "hang outside of the Kettle guy."

 I don't know this guy, but I love the pipe, and I also like that the beard is well kept. A lot of the beards up here look like their owners simply don't care about appearances, but this sort of beard looks respectable. It's a fine specimen, no?

Chris Fourroux, owner of the Higher Grounds Coffee shop in town and all around good guy.

OVERHEARD TRICK-OR-TREATING

"He said to me something like 'Isn't my costume amazing?' and I said 'Ish."
Teenage girl dressed as a rabbit to two other teenage girls dressed as a fairy and a witch respectively.

"I'm gonna be so fat!"
Obese juvenile female, approximately 11 or 12 years, old, dressed as some kind of ghastly ghoul, commenting on how much candy she was consuming.

"You already are fat!"
Insensitive juvenile female, also 11 or 12 years old and dressed as a hershey's kiss, in response to the above comment.

"Shut up!"
The aforementioned obese juvenile female.

"Thank you for your service to our country, young man."
An elderly  man to a youngster, probably 8 or 9 years old, who was dressed as a soldier.

NOT THIS YEAR

I took this picture on November 1, 2008, the morning after halloween. I had cleaned out my pants' pockets before tossing them into the dirty laundry, and this was the shameful evidence that emerged. Guilty on three counts, THEFT FROM A CHILD'S HALLOWEEN BASKET WITH INTENT TO CONSUME, CONSUMPTION OF STOLEN HALLOWEEN CANDY and, of course, GLUTTONY.

Well, it's not going to happen this year...even if the kids leave an Almond Joy unguarded. (Curse that devilish amalgam of chocolate and coconut!) I've decided to make some changes. No "Daddy Tax" will lighten their load this year. In fact, I will hereby pledge that no candy will pass my lips during the week before or following Halloween.

Josh Tate's gonna get healthy, and this is my first challenge.

SLEEPING CLUB- AUNTY STELLIG AND AGENDA ITEM #14

One of the more eccentric members of the sleeping club was Catherine “Aunty” Stellig, heiress of the Stellig tire fortune. She lived as a recluse in a hilltop villa above Rancho Mirage, California. Preferring complete solitude she had become a hermit by choice. Her housekeepers and staff, even those who had been in her employ for several years, had never so much as laid eyes on her. Only one person, a man named Steven Welcome, had any regular contact with her. Steven was a personal secretary of sorts. He had obtained the job simply by answering an ad in the paper. He had been the first to respond to the ad, and when he called the phone number listed one of Aunty’s housekeepers answered and told him that he was hired.




“What?” he had asked, “I’m hired? Just like that?”



“Yes,” said the housekeeper. “I have been instructed to hire the first person that inquires about the job, and I will be sending you an information packet in the mail. Your starting salary will be $200,000 a year, and you are to begin work on Saturday morning at 10:00 am.”



For reasons that were never clear to Steven, Aunty trusted him completely- a trust which he never abused. They met every Saturday morning from 10:00-11:30 am. On Thursday of each week, Steven would receive an e-mail from Aunty containing an agenda for their upcoming meeting as well as any special menu requests, which he would dutifully forward to Mario Lazar, the head cook in Aunty’s kitchen. During the meeting itself, Steven and Aunty would work their way through the agenda, and when their business was complete Aunty would exit the room, and nobody would see her again until Saturday morning at 10:00 am.



Over the years, the meetings settled into a predictable routine and the agendas from week to week became more or less identical, but in late July of 2009 Steven noted with interest that an entirely new agenda item had been added. Line #14- “Discussion of ongoing sleep issues and the purchase of property at the corner of Alvarez and Sunset.”

FAMILY FUN

Recently I have been missing New England. Maybe it's the change in season or the rain we've been having...whatever it is I have been thinking more about New England and the folks back east than normal. I miss things about Vermont which I have trouble explaining without sounding trite. I miss it with all five of my senses, and this time of the year is always the worst for me. This past Monday night Sarah and I had planned a family fun night for the kids including a movie and a campout in the living room, but I spontaneously added a walk around nearby Lake Fulmore to the agenda partly because the place vaguely reminds me of Vermont and Lake Champlain.

When we left Idyllwild it was sunny with relatively clear skies. One of the oddities of living so high in the mountains is that quite often it may be sunny at the top but the surrounding valleys are socked-in and overcast. We were unknowingly above the clouds and storm. As we drove down to the lake we descended into the clouds, and by the time we got to Fulmore we were right in the midst of a fine mist which necessitated the sporadic use of the van's windshield wipers.

We tried without success to get some group shots of the kids. Here are the many attempts. It is funny how usually three out of four of them look fine, and one of them is being a goof. It's almost like they plan it. "Okay, it's your turn, when he says cheese do something to ruin the picture."

Ah well.

We explored a rocky overhang which was used by Cahuilla indians as an encampment in ancient times. The mortar holes where they pulverized acorns are very clear. The kids busied themselves cleaning out the holes.

The overhang. "Look like Indians, kids."

Soot from their campfires.

Lake Fulmore is truly more of a pond, but it is beautiful. Especially on a misty day like this one. There are are paths bordered by low stone walls all the way around it as well as bridges and docks out over the water.

Walking in the clouds

Goldenrod! I miss Vermont.

After our walk around the lake we zipped back home and cooked hot dogs over a fire in the fireplace.

I'm not sure why Bowden looks so fierce here. Do you like his snake tattoo?

Maccaroni and cheese too!

Then, while Sarah took the kids upstairs for their bath, I got things ready for the big surprise- a movie and campout in the living room. They thought that all of the fun was over, but No!

We had just finished reading "The Wind in the Willows" at bedtime so I ordered the movie through the library. After hooking up the DVD player,  I set up camp, chucked another log on the fire, and popped some popcorn.

The kids were excited!

They loved the movie, which was fairly faithful to the story. I really enjoyed it too. Wasn't there an animated series based on the Wind in the Willows at one time? I seem to remember that.

Lucy did not make it to the end of the movie.

After the movie, Sarah and I herded them into the tent, and I sung them a few songs before they passed out. Despite all of the excitement they fell asleep really easily because it was quite a bit past their normal bedtime.

This is me pretending to be asleep.