walmart parking lot

these folks were squealing around the walmart in sylva, NC yesterday.
i thought it was illegal, but it isn't. here's a list of state laws about riding in the back of pickup trucks:
http://www.iihs.org/laws/cargoAreas.aspx

also spotted yesterday - a hissing hawk protecting its dead squirrel after pecking its eyes out

drooling rosie

i had the pleasure of spending this past hot weekend with a sweet, sweet bitch (and her parents!) from tallahassee named rose. she is 12 and doesn't get around like she used to, but she stil points her tail down at the ground and wags it as fast as a hummingbird. she would have been a perfect match for holden.

my thoughts go out to kid D who has to put her faithful pup yoshi to sleep today. it sucks to lose a pet, especially one that knows how to smile.

i think i found a boyfriend for Drezza

he's 86, he eats salad, he's a doctor...and he's cute!

Scenes from a vegetarian restaurant

friday

this weekend's gonna be a scorcher. that means sitting in a kiddie pool and eating ice cream. going to movies. turning on the fans. drinking lemonade. maybe spiked. a refreshing drink is:
ice
a shot of citroen vodka
lemonade
a dribble of blueberry pomegranate juice

i spent the first half hour of today assassinating ants and eating pistachios.

conversation on a plane

flight attendant: peanuts or pretzels?

flyer: penis.

flight attendant: peanuts?

flyer: yes, penis.

flight attendant hands over tiny pouch of peanuts.

orchid

nacho's birthday ice cream

nacho had some peanut butter doggie ice cream from the hop for his birthday. he enjoyed it thoroughly.

max patch lightning strike

WARNING: the following is probably the saddest story known to man. i cried when i read it. you'll probably cry if you read it. don't read it if you don't want to cry. holy shit.


Woman killed by lightning at Max Patch minutes from engagement
http://www.citizen-times.com/article/20100608/NEWS/306080033

Richard Butler and Bethany Lott had made it through the rain as they wound their way up the curves of Max Patch Road.

Most would have turned around and returned home, but not Butler. Though he told Lott they were going on a summer hike, he had other plans.

So with a pause in the rain, the young couple from Knoxville got out of their car, crossed the road and began the ascent to Max Patch Bald, Lott ready to show her boyfriend a favorite trail, Butler with an engagement ring in his pocket and the sky not yet warning of the danger to come.

Thunderstorms had rumbled across the region Friday, and some were severe. But the one that struck as Lott and Butler were on their way to the top of Max Patch Bald in Madison County rolled in suddenly.

Butler, 30, said Monday that he remembers three bursts of lightning, and he thinks the third struck Lott, 25.

“She was probably five feet in front of me, so given the incline, she was a good bit higher than me, but it jumped to me.”

Butler suffered second-degree burns, but said he didn't initially realize he had been hit.

“I was spun 180 degrees and thrown several feet back,” he said. “My legs turned to Jell-O, my shoes were smoking and the bottom of my feet felt like they were on fire.”

About 30 seconds before the lightning struck, Butler said Lott had turned around to speak to him.

“She said, ‘God, baby, look how beautiful it is,'” Butler said.

After the strike, Butler turned around to see his girlfriend lying on the hill.

“She didn't say anything, and I turned around and she was laying a few feet away, and I crawled to her,” he said. “I did CPR for probably 15 minutes and the whole time was trying her cell phone, but I couldn't get anything out.”

Butler tried to pull Lott down the hill, but was unable to continue because the lightning had weakened his legs, so he took off in his vehicle, spinning down curvy roads as fast as he could.

He pulled into the first private driveway he saw and pounded on the door of the house for help.

A couple and their son, who was home on leave from the Navy, answered the door. The father, Dean Farmer I, and his son, Dean Farmer II, both from Knoxville, jumped in a truck with Butler and raced back to the scene.

The elder Farmer said his son is a Navy helicopter pilot who has extensive emergency training.

“When we got back, he was the first one up there, and I was a couple hundred yards behind him,” he said. “He said there was no pulse, no breathing activity at the time he arrived.”

Butler said he is very grateful for the Farmers' help.

“They were absolute heroes,” Butler said. “By that time, the storm had gotten worse. They stood on the top of the hill doing what they could for probably 20 minutes until the rescuers got there.”

As they ascended the hill together, Butler and Lott were vulnerable out in the open, and the burst of lightning caught them off guard, said Tina Tilley, a district ranger with the U.S. Forest Service.

“If you're in a situation like that, especially on a bald, you're naturally going to be the highest point,” Tilley said. “You need to get down and off of the higher elevations. Get back into your vehicle.”

Butler, who works at a grocery store and wants to counsel veterans, said Lott had wanted to take him to Max Patch since the first week they started dating last year and had even mentioned wanting to marry there someday.

Family was important for Lott, he said. She was very close to her mother, father, three brothers and three nieces.

Lott had just returned to school at Pellissippi State Community College in Knoxville in the hopes of becoming a park ranger, Butler said.

When the rescuers did arrive to take over for Dean Farmer and his son, an hour had already passed since the first lightning strike about 4:30 p.m.

As rescuers tried in vain to bring Lott back to life, Butler said he crouched near her body.

“I put the ring on her finger while the EMTs were working on her,” he said. “They are listing me as her fiancé in the obituaries.”

give it one more day - the wood brothers

Well I seen you in a sadness
I seen you when you'd hope to die
I heard you say, well it's raining all over the world
What did I tell you
What did I say
Just when your faith is gone
Give it one more day

I seen you when your head is long
Face down on the ground
I heard you say, well you're lost and you couldn't be found
What did I tell you
What did I say
Just when your faith is gone
Give it one more day

And next thang you're smiling back at the sun
Blowing right back at the wind
Rolling right back at the ocean
But nothing's gonna do you in

Give it one more day
One more day
Just when your faith is gone
Give it one more day

I seen when your soul shines
I seen you when you heart sings
I heard you say well the world don't owe you a thing
Hay and what did you tell me
What did you say
Just when your faith is gone
Give it one more day
Just when your faith is gone
Give it one more day


The Wood Brothers website

happy birthday nacho!

today is nacho's 7th birthday. he got a baby pool to swim in, he is going for a walk to the pond, and later he will get peanut butter flavored doggie ice cream from the hop.

he is a clown dog, he always makes me laugh, and he is soft like a bunny with bucked teeth and an oversized gullet.

his latest nickname is fluffycups.

dog fur birds nest

some extremely smart bird used labrador fur to insulate its nest. then the nest fell on the ground. then i brought it home.

Palm Beach resident (AKA Grandpa Wallace) to see Memorial Day through his brother's eyes

I don't know if my Grandpa Wallace got a new PR agent or what, but he's been in the Palm Beach news three times in the past year. The most recent was on Memorial Day, with the following article about his brother Robert McTammany who died during World War II:


Palm Beach Resident to see Memorial Day through his Brother's Eyes
(via Palm Beach Daily News)

By John Nelander

Saturday, May 29, 2010

Robert McTammany was one of 12,000 American soldiers forced by the Japanese during World War II to march under brutal conditions to a prisoner of war camp in the Philippines. Miraculously, he survived 61 miles of starvation, beatings and random executions only to die of malaria after he reached his destination.

His four brothers — including Wallace McTammany of Palm Beach — didn’t learn of Robert’s death until years later in 1945. But the family, originally from Providence, R.I., never forgot, and Wallace doggedly pursued official recognition of his brother’s heroic deeds.

His efforts were rewarded earlier this year when an array of medals honoring Robert were delivered to Wallace’s home. They include a Purple Heart, a World War II Victory Medal, the Asiatic-Pacific Campaign Medal, a bronze Prisoner of War Medal and an Honorable Service Lapel Button.

It will make this Memorial Day — almost exactly 70 years since Robert enlisted in the Army — a little more special.

Robert joined the Army in September 1940, and left for the Philippines as a sergeant on Oct. 6, 1941, two months before the attack on Pearl Harbor. He became embroiled in the historic Battle of the Philippines after the Japanese invaded the island chain just before Christmas.

Fighting raged in January through April 1942, with the American troops under the command of Gen. Douglas MacArthur defending the strategic island of Corregidor and the Bataan Peninsula.

It ended with the surrender of American and Filipino troops on April 9. Ten thousand Allied troops died and 20,000 were wounded — and 75,000 (including 12,000 Americans) were taken prisoner. They were forced to walk the 61 miles to a prisoner of war camp, a journey that became known as the Bataan Death March.

It was marked by beatings, casual shootings, starvation and even beheadings. Still, Robert somehow made it to Camp O’Donnell, a temporary holding facility for American soldiers before they were sent on to other Japanese-held camps.

Wallace keeps a copy of a newspaper clipping from 1945 that announced Robert’s death at the age of 30 — he was counted as missing for three years. He also keeps an unnamed and unmarked copy of a book describing the camp in which his brother spent his final month.

“The sanitation was so appallingly bad, the stench so overwhelming, that the few Japanese who ventured inside the camp almost invariably wore surgical masks,” the author says.

There was one place in camp to house the critically ill, which the soldiers came to call St. Peter’s Ward because they believed there was no chance of survival. Patients died of malaria, dysentery, acute dehydration and starvation.

Wallace says simply: “It was a horror show.”

Robert was buried in Manila, in a cemetery for American soldiers. The McTammany family chose not to have his remains moved back to the United States.

Fast forward to 2009. Wallace had been taking morning walks with another World War II veteran, Martin Davidson, a retired Marine major who fought in Iwo Jima. They began chatting about McTammany’s brother Robert.

“I’d been reading in a military magazine that the government had opened up new opportunities for getting Purple Hearts,” Davidson recalls. “So I told him about it. It’s a good thing, no matter when and how it was received. It puts the government in a good light, which doesn’t happen very often.”

Of the Bataan Death March, Davidson adds: “It’s hard to imagine what these guys went through.”

Four of five McTammany brothers, including Wallace, entered the military. They served in various capacities and locations — Wallace in the Bahamas, the Caribbean and West Palm Beach. “I just lucked out,” he says.

Wallace went on to a career doing architectural renderings. Robert never had the chance to pursue his career as a classical musician. Before enlisting, he had played string bass in the Providence and Boston symphony orchestras.

“All five of us boys were industrious,” Wallace says. “Bob had a lot of different jobs, but he loved music. He was different from the rest of us.

“He would sit in a corner in a rocking chair when he was home, and listen to this huge Stromberg-Carlson radio. He’d just be carried away.”

And now his memory lives on in the hearts and minds of his family, the collection of medals and honors Wallace proudly displays in his home office, and within the flag he flies each Memorial Day on the balcony of his condo on South Ocean Boulevard.