A few thoughts while I fight through my tears as vacation comes to an end:
I knew I needed time off from work when a radio listener called and requested “What
a Wonderful World” and I screamed, “What’s so wonderful about it, man!” This is only
a slight exaggeration.
An Angel winning streak that coincides with my vacation is my little slice of heaven.
I was floating down the Owens River – floating up takes way too much effort – and
life (blue sky, cold beverage, no worries, no cell phones) couldn’t have been any more relaxing. This was right around the time Tiger
Woods was missing the cut at the British Open. So, at about 3:30, it was better to
be me than Tiger Woods. At 3:30 and three seconds, it was better to be Tiger Woods
My buddy from Omaha enjoys our website. Seems there’s a bit more crime in the
Eastern Sierra than in his part of Nebraska. He calls us – lovingly – “Sierra
Taz the Dog knows it when people he has met (OK, smelled) return to our home. Taz
really only barks at strangers. Yet, the sound of thunder makes him a blubbering
mess. Takes after his human, I guess.
Man, if I had a buck for everytime someone said I “acted stupidly.”
The most “I told you so” people around these parts: The ones with “Beware the Green
A buddy visiting from SoCal asked what’s the best thing about living here. We walked
out to my front yard, looked at the Sierra Nevada, and I said, “And that’s about No.
10 on the list.”
I’ll be looking at the White Mountains when I return to “work” Wednesday morning.
Eat your heart out, Tiger.