This report brought to you by Sky Forest Inn Event and Retreat Center
Forget “casual Friday” at the office this week… today is “Tutuesday!” Don’t forget to wear that tutu today!
Roads ain’t nuttin’ but a thang today… no big whoop. Dry, warm, and windless (but still very windy… they just can’t seem to wrinkle all of those curves out). Uuuuuuuuuuhhhgain… we have the lower elevation cloudy/undercast/grayish almost-fog stuff, from about 3,000 feet and below. It’ll dissipate soon, I’m sure, but even at this time, it won’t inhibit visibility for driving purposes.
Those heading west on the 210 might wish to note that at my passing (no, I did not die… I mean, when I was passing by…) of Ayala Street in Rialto, the cleanup of a big rig fire was still in progress. Traffic was pretty heavy with looky-loos at 5:30AM… as general traffic increases, this sight is likely to create some backups, as everybody sees fit to slow down or even stop to stare, open-mouthed and selfie-considering, at the half-burned hulk of trailer that remains. The recovery of the remains will be a big operation, and as of my passing (no, still not dead… note to self, find a better wording for that before going to press…), there was still no vehicle recovery equipment on sight… just fire trucks and law enforcement. My advice is to take another route today, if reasonably feasible, acceptable, or exceptable.
Apparently, a number of baseball stadiums are considering larger/bigger/better safety nets, in order to reduce the danger to spectators of being hit by errant baseballs. There are many considerations, including financial: like, what’s a net worth?
ALERT: Only six months of Christmas shopping left! Yep… today is National Leon day, which is a super-clever backwards spelling of, “Noel.” This wordplay is to commemorate six months from Christmas, although, having done some of my own calculations, it appears that it’s actually six months AFTER Christmas. So, I guess we missed it. A lot of good THIS day does, huh?
There was a kid napping at my house the other afternoon… must be nice, huh? Who wouldn’t want to nap in the afternoon?
So, 10 years ago today, Michael Jackson died. Which reminds me: some people believe that pedophiles can be “cured.” (My own opinion on the matter may differ greatly). If it WERE possible, would they call it a pedicure?
Today is National Catfish day. Upon reading up on the historic heritage of this glorious day, it has become apparent that this day is specifically to celebrate only FARM-raised catfish… this day has not been designated to give any respect to them ol’ river, pond, and lake dwellers. Whatever. Maybe that’s done on National Volkswagen Bug day, or National Get Stung by a Fish day, or National Whiskers day.
So, a catfish story (regarding a non-farm-raised one, ‘cause I’m a rebel).
While living in Northern California, there was a pond I saw from the road on my daily commute. This pond was set back away from the road and looked secluded and inviting. Finally, after years of just driving past it, I decided to see if I could explore it.
It turned out to be a private pond. But, after a knock on the door, and me remembering briefly how to be polite and courteous, I was granted permission to head on out and explore. The owner of the property said that they don’t git themselves too many visitors out here… and that prolly nobody even done been out to the pond in about a coon’s age, or maybe longer.
I was strolling along the shoreline, enjoying the solitude and serenity, when I became curious about the depth of the pond. The water was dark, and a lot of lily pads made it difficult to see the bottom. I looked around for a stick to probe the depths.
Soon, I found a decent looking stick, one that appeared to be deadfall, among countless others. Only, when I picked up the stick, the end of it that had been partially dangling in the water, already seemed to be sort of snaged on something. I tugged on it, and soon the moss-covered end of the stick emerged… but was still hanging on to something.
Then I noticed that there was some fishing line tangled around the end of the stick. I went to pull the line up out of the water… and after some more tugging, eventually reached the end of the line, on which was a very rusty hook… in the mouth of a tired old catfish.
There’s no telling how long that fish had been on that line. A week, a month… a year? Who knows. I tend to believe that a year is not unlikely, given the rusted condition of the hook in his mouth. That fish may not have been lucky before… but today, he was the luckiest fish to be, at least in THAT pond, as his freedom came about as the result of so many random choices.
See you folks tomorrow… and thanks for listening to my fish story.