Saturday, September 29, 2007

Tres Idiomas

Weren't they great?

Saturday, September 22, 2007

Palindrome Means: "Runs Again" in Greek

******THIS JUST IN: HOT LINK TO A GUH-ZILLION PALINDROMES******added 092307

Just follow this link.


The word, "Palindrome" means literally, "To run again." "Palin" means "again." And "dromos" means "run." A palindrome runs both ways. Get it? Good.

If you ask Sheila, she will tell you that there is another word for "run," "trechein" (pronounced: trech-ayne, but trill the "r" a little and make a sound like you're going to hock a loogie when you hit the "ch" part).

An anadromous fish (ana=up and dromos=run) literally "runs up" the river into the mountain streams where it was born 3-5 years before it's run. Here on the coast of Oregon, we see a river and we say, "A fish runs through it." (Get all the laughter out. I'll give you a sec.)

Done? Good.

The only good palindrome that I knew prior to watching this video was: "Do geese see God?" I watched for it. And sure enough, there it was.

What palindromes do you know? Write them down, if you like. Then watch this:

Monday, September 17, 2007

Erik 'n Sarah, Sittin' In A Tree, Now They Are Mar-ar-ar-reed.

This is my friend, Erik. Erik with a kay. And that is his friend, Sarah. Sarah with an ayche. Erik and Sarah have been friends for a long time. Maybe 30 or 40 years. I'm not sure. Okay, well maybe not that long. But they got married. To each other. Yeah. And then they made Quinn happen. (No more Eskimo jokes, please.)

Erik and I used to hunt wild bandtail pigeons together. I no long hunt them. I feed them. I go into serious debt on black oiled sunflower seed fot those critters. I figure I owe them. Erik and I also used to fish. Lots. But since the move to LaGrande, well....time and distance, I guess.

Anyway, Sarah is the controller of the keyboard when it comes to being kept in touch with these kids. They are moving from LaGrande, Oregon. LaGrande must have gotten its name from being the biggest town in them parts. The parts in which it is, that is. But like I said, they are quitting the big LG. I wonder where they're moving? Could it be to a town near me?

I have flown into the LaGrande airport. It was so that I could attend the reception of the newly wed couple. Pre-Quinn. I brought oysters to BBQ. Now look what happened. Took a couple years, but they worked.

Look at that happy mouth! Can't wait to really meet this kid. I did get a quick sighting when the happy trio was in town over a year ago. But, my how he's growing.

As you can see, there is not much to do in LaGrande except play a strange form of bowling. Due to the odd shape of the balls, a perfect score is 1.




They do not have automobiles in LaGrande. Those haven't been invented yet there. But there is still some great travel by rail to be had. The cold winters, however, make for some bundling up because they haven't invented walls to enclose the cars.




I couldn't resist.....
(the stills are cool in this video and there's an airplane in it!!!)



So, go check out Erik, Sarah and Quinn here. Say hello. Tell 'em Gawpo sent you.

Friday, September 14, 2007

"And Underneath The Stars..."

Love should be this simple:




When I was in the 8th grade, I had a crush on the Thompson girl. She lived way out on Zeering. Zeering Road, to this very day, is located on the outskirts of Denair. I must report, however, that the only thing out of its skirt back then was Denair.

Debbie Thompson. I wanted to kiss her so bad. She gave me a Mammas and Papas album. (Yeah, that's what we called it back then. Okay, just kidding.) I made a point of putting the vinyl on the turntable one evening and cranking it up so loud that no one could have a conversation in the house. I don't recall being told to turn the music down. I then called Debbie. She answered. I wanted her to hear my appreciation in the background. Unfortunately, that's all she could hear. I tripped, stumbled and fell on the way to the record player in the living room to lower the volume of the song by the same name. When she told me she couldn't hear what I was saying "because that music is too loud," I was embarrassed beyond blushing.

Since I didn't have a car or a bike, and I really wanted to see that Thompson girl one fine summer day, I decided that I would walk to her house. So I did. I called ahead, of course. No music in the background this time.

See that trailer park to the left of the house with the swimming pool with the field in back? Well, that trailer park used to be a field of baby's breath. Not many people have seen this flower before it gets dead. The house with the swimming pool and the field----that's where our house used to be: 229 Twentieth Century Blvd. We sold the house to some people who remodeled the existing 800 sq ft home into the big bucket it is today with the Spanish tile. And no, we never had a swimming pool. But that field. Oh, that field. We had walnut trees.

My sister will tell you about the time she was running away from me because I was throwing dirt clods at her. Again. I was so mean as a big brother. I feel terrible about it now. But this one time---at clod camp---she stopped in her tracks for some reason and turned around. If she had kept running, she wouldn't have had to wash a quarter pound of sand out of her hair. It was beautiful. The timing. Man, do I feel bad about that. To this day. But the timing. The timing.

Sorry, Karen.

But this is the house I walked from in order to get to Debbie's house out on Zeering. Best I can tell, this is the Thompson place. When I got there, we did the "So, what do you want to do?" "I dunno. What do you want to do?" We walked out to the barn and she showed me her horse. (Yeah. That's what we called it back then. Okay, just kidding again.) Nothing happened, really. We talked. We didn't even hold hands. I was nervous. She was cute. Blond. Freckled. Sweet. By best estimates, the walk out there was about 4 miles. So was the walk back. I remember being so thirsty. It was summer. I considered drinking from the canal. But lived to say that I resisted the urge.

I wonder whatever happened to Debbie Thompson. I wonder if she had kids. Got married. Is still alive. All I know is that our paths crossed and for whatever it might amount to in the grand scheme of things, we are in each other's brain. My guess is she remembers me. I know I sure remember her.

If there's one thing I've learned, though. It's this: Love is wonderful. Love is strange.