A scenic mountain ode

Let’s assume, without further mention of The Lone Ranger, that you are familiar with The William Tell Overture. Besides the finale alluded to above, this instrumental tone poem, the introductory theme to Rossini’s William Tell opera, also contains a section entitled Ranz des Vaches. That “call to the dairy cows” features an English horn and flute duet familiar to most of us as the signature music suggesting daybreak in dozens of animated cartoons. (Still doesn’t strike a chord? Try this sample.)

That would have been my theme music for yesterday. Yesterday was perfect. An impeccably comfortable temperature enhanced by a relative humidity that subtly caressed the skin. A flawlessly right-on mix of sunshine and passing clouds. Precisely modulated breezes. Even a concise and to-the-point thunder shower at late morning—just enough to infuse the air with that ambrosial mountain fragrance that you can all but taste on the back of your tongue.

I was lucky enough to have friends drag me out into that glory. First a former work associate surprised me with a visit that we enjoyed out at my picnic table. Later I was required to drive over to Del Norte for a wienie and burger cook-out with other former colleagues. What a pleasure it was to be out and about, especially with friends.

It was a Rocky Mountain summer day just begging to be savored. Nothing was out of place. Colors were brilliant, the air practically sparkled and even the acoustics—well, every mountain seemed poised to echo whatever song you chose to sing.

This is my song.

Of gourds and fishes

Yesterday, while frying up some trout (compliments of a neighbor) for dinner, I was reminded of the small town in northeast Oregon where I lived for some years. There, it seemed, almost everbody had a vegetable garden. Back then I was a gardener, too, though probably more persistent than avid.

That first spring, while I was prepping and laying out my garden, my retired neighbor came over and leaned on the fence. Typical of small towns, neighbors were friendly, happy to advise or help on whatever project one might be about. I had built up five four-by-four foot raised plots and I was telling him what I intended to plant in each. My neighbor asked, "No zucchini, then?"

"No," I said, "Why, do you think I should plant some?"

"No, no," he chortled. "I was just asking."

I said, "I've got room. I could throw in three or four vines."

"I wouldn't," he said.

"Why not?" Now I was curious.

At that point his wife stuck her head out the back door to advise him that lunch was ready. As he turned to go he was chuckling and he said over his shoulder to me, "You'll see, you'll see."

And I did see.

By late summer, town was awash in zucchini. It seems most gardeners planted it and the climate and soil were ideal. Proliferate doesn't begin to describe it. As it turned out, my neighbor always had zucchini in his garden and during August and September we were the recipients of several full grocery bags of the tubular green squash. At work there were bags and boxes of zucchini free for the taking and the local restaurants took to featuring zucchini dishes as daily specials.

The neighbor told me that there was usually so much zucchini that people didn't know what to do with it. In fact, every September their church sponsored a potluck where all the dishes had to include zucchini, partly for fun, partly to see if anyone had found a new way to prepare it.  So much was to be had that the word around town was that, if you were at Safeway's produce counter buying zucchini, it meant you didn't have any friends.

As I turned the fish in my skillet to finish cooking, I realized it was much the same way around South Fork RV parks: if you have to catch your own trout, it means you don't have any friends.

faceboarding

I will offer two analogies for my novice facebook experience.

Once, when I was swimming in gentle surf off a sunny South Carolina beach, I crossed a shallow sandbar and suddenly found myself being swept rapidly along parallel to the coastline. My first experience with rip tide and I could see that this surprisingly strong current would soon be turning seaward through a gap in another sandbar. I knew enough to swim cross current which, fortunately, took me toward shore. Just as the flow began to course toward the open ocean I reached the inner sandbar and swam over it to calmer water.

With facebook, though, there's the addition of a thick fog.

It's been ten years since my attendance at a family, well, what shall I call it? Gabfest comes to mind. There's a bunch of folks crowded around a too small dining table, a few others tripping over one another in the kitchen while whipping up a casual feast and several more nearby, contesting comfortable spots in front of the tube. Maybe 12 or 15 people in all—and everyone is in the same conversation! The TV is blaring to be heard over the voices and the voices are raised to be heard over the TV and each other, people are stepping all over each other's comments, there's some sort of card game at one end of the dining table, a couple dogs underfoot in the kitchen waiting for crumbs and, oh yeah, a half dozen younger kids running around yelling, whining for attention or trying to join in.

Boy, do I ever miss that!

I'll be sorry

The new plan: I post in this blog on Mondays and the Other Blog on Fridays. Yeah, right. We'll see.

My facebook page—a bare minimum profile and a reference to my blogs—is starting to bug me. I should have known. One of my sisters and a Canadian friend from the Tucson RV park want to be added as facebook "friends." No idea how or why, nor do I want to learn. What's worse, it's starting to cut into my Netflix time.

Note the "Aphorisms" page I've added to this blog. There's a link on the right.

And it's good for you, too!

I’ve discovered Netflix.

Not the service where they mail you a movie. No, I’ve discovered Netflix on line.

This is streaming video and it’s included with the DVD mail service. What’s more, Netflix seems to be able to stream video at some very slow speeds, making it ideal for the crowded bandwidth in an RV park.

So I’ve been watching movies, one of my favorite things to do. And for free, since I’m still in the 30-day trial period. They’ve got scores of movies I’ve never even heard of. I must have watched a couple dozen movies in the last week. Plus the entire Firefly TV series, which I’d never seen, and a couple documentaries.

Hence, I’ve been neglecting everything else, including blogging—sorry about that.

On the other hand, it’s also distracted me from eating, so I give you—TA DA—The Netflix Diet!