photos – Page 3 – A Jaunty Little Blog

October 10, 2012

An Ideal

A lovely centered picture that made me think about the state of things.

Friends,

This is a shot of the sign on the new Idyllwild Public Library. Built with donations and government money, the new facility is a massive reimagining of the old Coronet dime store and even the facade contains a message: it’s modern, it’s weathered and rustic, and is sited in our little alpine village without being overwhelming. There has been some controversy about staffing, but we love our skirmishes in the letters section of the local paper.

There are no other buildings in this town willing to take such an architectural stand, so it’s doubly important that it’s a library. We’ll have to wait and see if the rustic modernism motif takes off up here, especially since we’ve recently created a historical district designation for most of the core of the town to preserve and protect cabins and tiny shops constructed in the 1940s. Not a lot of chrome to be found except in the hairdryers at the beauty salon.

I’ll snap more pictures when the library officially opens. Aren’t you excited?

Of course you are.

– bob

August 25, 2012

Somebody’s Trying To Tell You Something

A lovely centered picture of near devastation.

Friends,

It’s Friday and I know it should be a magical time where the paycheck faeries gently press their sugar-dusted lips to your filthy foreheads, grimy from the sweat and toil of a week picking at the wisps of salt veins down in the mines, but by the gods themselves, I must say that this particular day stunk to the ends of your earth and the next one as well. I’ll tell you how in a moment, but it’s important to note something that should be very obvious and might be casually missed. This writing exercise is largely about me, so what follows may seem self-centered, which is how this works. Stick with it though, because eventually it stops sounding like whinging and more like a weird string of happenstances coming together as an unsubtle note from the fates that my time working in the desert has come to an end.

Exhibit 1)

I had been listening to the On The Media podcast (which I encourage you to download and support) Thursday night and plopped the iPod into the clock radio. 0400 rolls around and the “Ayn Rand’s influence on the GOP” story is blaring. Hit the button to stop the alarm, proceed with the morning ritual.

Exhibit 2)

I check the Facebook app on my phone during breakfast. One of my coworkers Likes Mitt Romney’s page. “Damn,” through a milky bite, “And she was one of the good ones, too. I’ll miss her.” Like real zombies, she’s been infected and has self-identified as one of them. Data point. Moving on.

Exhibit 3)

The drive down the hill to work was as easy as any. Slowpokes pulled out right away, people dipped their high beams quickly and courteously, and the stoplights all the way to the Festival of Dirt were obligingly green. I take Highway 111 all the way across the valley because when it’s quick, it can be very quick and I had four minutes to make up. The timing is really working out and I’ve made up two of the four minutes when I see the flashing gumballs in the distance. Getting closer, the plume of smoke is evident and Indio Police have the highway blocked off. I take the detour, but what could be on fire? Starbucks? Game Stop? It’s hard to tell and I’ve lost three minutes. Now I’m on the hairy edge of being late.

Exhibit 4)

Arriving at work I have a minute to spare, so I rush around the building to my favorite shady parking space. The one now dominated by the fallen foliage in the photo at the top. The clicking in my head isn’t the normal clicking that always clicks (don’t ask. i think one of the gears has lost a tooth, but he’ll argue the point. – ed) but another click that starts analyzing all of the events of the morning. What’s the connection? What’s going on here?

Exhibit 5)

Logged on to the various computers in the office after clocking in successfully within the seven minute window, but the biometric time clock gives me a score of 90. Single-digit scores mean that it really believes that the picture it’s just taken of the back of my hand is really me. Higher scores mean that it’s not so sure. A score of 90 means that it’s giving me a pass, but stop being creepy, okay?

The Twitter feed starts buzzing (aw, c’mon. we’ve been through this. it’s twittering. – ed) with news about the fire. It’s this…

~~If you’ll notice the second business from the left,~~ it’s my favorite taco shop. The only one I know of in the valley that makes a decent potato taco.

…or used to. They’re all gone. The owner of the building promises to rebuild, but will the rents be too high for the previous tenants, as is often the case? I’m very sorry for their losses but the clicking continues.

Exhibit 6)

I had hoped that the teleconference that was scheduled for the late morning would include video so I could see who I was talking to in America’s Third or Fourth Finest City for Border Violence, but I got an email that they didn’t even have a phone. The solution was to put a cell phone on the center of the table in their meeting room and call me at my remote location. This made my blood sugar drop, so I ducked out to grab a late fast food breakfast. I’ve got fifteen minutes for my federally mandated fifteen minute break, so why not?

I pull in the parking lot and spy my coworker’s car. It’s unmistakable and I’m a little perplexed. This coworker should’ve arrived at the office hours ago, but the car is here. What gives? Then I see the windscreen sun shield pressed up against the passenger side door glass, impressions of hands from the interior to prevent my view inside. Fair enough! I back into the adjacent space, head into the joint and power down a greasy egg sandwich and box of orange juice (to prevent scurvy, as you do). Back out to the Jeep and the sun shield is hurriedly rearranged and mashed up to the window. What’s going on in there?

Exhibit 7)

Cell phone teleconference goes better than expected. I put my phone on mute and just listen, but send stupid jokes to my colleagues over SMS. No response.

Exhibit 8)

I violate my rule about working on coworker’s personal computers due to tears. Hers, not mine.

Exhibit 9)

I get my first speeding ticket in two years on the way home. My Jeep was clocked at 69 MPH heading up a hill with the A/C on in 4th gear while next to a car that was overtaking. If I was going 69 MPH in 4th gear, I would’ve had to rev the engine up to over 4,000 RPM, so I’m thinking that the Lidar was, once again, lying. If I can’t do traffic school, I’m going to contest this one.

So, in the words of the prophet, how was your day?

Your pal,

bob

July 14, 2012

The Week Where The People Came

A lovely centered picture in a series of lovely centered pictures.

Friends,

The Damp Dog Lodge is a deceptively large place and can accommodate throngs of guests. With the July 4th holiday falling on a Wednesday this year, the onslaught was more of a trickle, dribbling in all week. It started with a visit from a beautiful girl the weekend before last, my parents stopping by in the middle of the week for a parade, then my sister’s family arrived to cap off the week. In the past, I haven’t dealt well with crowds in my solitary and very secret Alpine hideaway, but over time it seems natural—almost organic, to have a pile of people here laughing together and generally enjoying the place. I almost feel robbed by the randomness of the calendar this year, but there’s plenty more summer left to get people together for happy funtimes. Let’s get on this right away.

While you all are making your travel plans, let’s get on with the picture show!

Here’s another scene from the parade. In this photo, you will see Randolph Mantooth and Kevin Tighe towing the Ghostbusters down North Circle Drive. I had a creepy feeling that the Ecto-1 needed service. Call it a hunch.

You may think we didn’t have bands in the parade, but that’s because you limited your definition of “band” to groups who are marching. We’re here to smash your preconceived notions. Also, thanks cheap oil!

“Vee are from Chermany!” she shouted as she trained her expensive video camera rig at the unwashed yokels gawking at her driver’s preposterous tricycle. She’ll have footage to show her European friends that Americans are weird and perpetually astonished. We now have a picture of her dopey ride to show them exactly why we were astonished.

Robert’s Jalapeño Creme sauce is, if this banner is to be believed, what we always wanted. When he tapes Tums to the jars, I’ll be convinced. I don’t think my esophagus has truly recovered.

These guys make my Mom cry. And by “my Mom” I mean everybody.

I’m going to go ahead and call this a parade float. It was unsponsored showmanship just for the sake of it, which I applaud. I’m going to also go out on a limb and call their display really nutty.

Unflinchingly patriotic, but wow. Just wow.

The Quilting Club had an entry in this year’s parade, as they have for many past parades. This year, however, they quilted their pickup. I don’t know if I’m the first to say this, but I’m kinda digging their winch cozy and I see opportunities here. Hello, Kickstarter!

They at least did a better job of replicating a mid-80s Chevrolet C20 fender than the cheap knock-offs at a cut-rate body shop. (Look, these are the jokes, folks. I will gladly refund the purchase price if you’re not fully entertained.)

This scene is from last weekend, where my niece recreates the historic moment when Teddy Roosevelt threw a saddle on a brown bear and charged up San Juan Hill. As you do.

And this scene suggests my nephew’s adoration of Philippe Petit. Amazing.

One of the sections of the climbing wall at the new playground is called Suicide Rock. In this reenactment, my niece attempts to convince my brother-in-law that all hope is not lost.

And in this picture, I end the post. Thanks for stopping by.

Your pal,

– bob

November 28, 2011

I’m So Sorry

A lovely centered picture of Penney the puppy dog.

Friends,

I may have killed your computer.

Things seem to have gone horribly wrong at bobtherieau.com and our home site has been used since August to peddle bad juju to you, our glorious and good-looking readers. Some evil chump had taken it upon herself (see what I did there? I mixed up your expectations of the gender of hackers, didn’t I? now look at yourself. go on. look.) to glom onto the friendly shoal on these internets where you can find the rest of my stuff to send you bad things. That’s the simple version, but for you, I hope you learn from my mistakes:

Don’t use public WiFi to fetch your mail from a computer or a smartphone because your passwords tend to be sent in the clear, without encryption.
This is especially true if your email user name and password are the same as your site admin user name and password (or even close).

Everything seems to be fine now that we’ve changed servers, passwords, user names, likes, dislikes, aftershave, everything. Well, everything but the goodness that you can expect every single day here.

And again, we’re really sorry that once again you’ve had to go to Best Buy and ask some geek to explain why your peecee is running really slowly. Maybe it’ll be better next Thanksgiving.

Your pal,

– bob

November 21, 2011

Now The Circle Is Complete

Friends,

I’m happy to announce that I’m now the proud owner of a 2012 Jeep Wrangler. What you may not know is that I travelled to the future to get it, and good gravy, people, it’s full of THE FUTURE! Gizmos and tricks abound in the thing, which is not really what you’d expect from a Jeep.

What led me to make such a reckless gamble on the health of my own personal economy? I carefully considered my options and came to the realization that the Grand Livingroom needs extensive and expensive repairs, the Mighty Jeepster would not be the best way to drive 100 miles a day, and the teensy racecar (may Marco’s dad have mercy on her soul) is absolutely no good in the snow. Did I mention that we’re getting snow right away? And ice. And ice and snow.

Mostly, though, I haven’t bought a new car since 1988 and I think that I would like to have a vehicle that I can work on when I want to rather than when I have to. That, and I was driving like a tremendous knucklehead in said racecar, and I think it was making me into a bad person. The type of reckless and angry person that I really don’t care for. It was the kind of car you get to drive fast and hard, but this isn’t a place for that sort of thing, I’ve come to realize, so my greatest challenge has been to settle into the slow and dull pace that everyone else here has adopted. The driving dynamics of the Wrangler reward slow, as does the free satellite radio, so I’ll just turn on the blues channel and take it easy from here on. I also thought that remaining alive might be a good idea, so getting rid of the sports car also made sense for obvious reasons.

But the interior of the new Jeep is also a nicer place to be, considering that it’s from the future. It has an air conditioner and a heater, after all. This is quite a luxury considering the other vehicles in the Damp Dog Lodge fleet. It even has a radio that plays radio stations and magically connects to a cellular phone as well as a satellite that’s full of music. You can talk to it and it talks back. And it has six gears in its transmission that you can select yourself. That’s two more than certain other Jeeps around here…

Once Spring comes, I can get to work on the Grand’s engine problems, then bid her a tearful farewell. She’s been a life saver for many years, but somebody with more time and patience should take on her challenges going forward. I suspect that the price will be very reasonable.

I’ll let you know how scary a short-wheelbase and slab-sided vehicle can be once something crops up, but I’m really pleased at the moment. Maybe it’s the new car smell.

Your pal,

bob

July 17, 2011

High-Energy Update!

Friends,

We’ve had a week or so to work out the dynamics here at the Damp Dog Lodge and some things have become clear; dogs are protective of their food, even if it’s not their own, and will start fights. Dogs who can’t hear very well are easily startled by other dogs approaching from outside of their diminished peripheral vision, and will start fights. Dogs who are not in any physical condition to play will try to murder dogs who try to start playing with them. Take away these conditions and no fights, right? I feed one over here and the other behind a locked door. Problem solved(-ish). One sleeps here, the other sleeps over there and the startling ends. Sorta. Playtime dog learns a lesson and stops initiating play. Easy to implement (of course not).

We’ve reached detente. An uneasy peace. There’s a floating demilitarized zone between the two, with each camp cautiously monitoring the other across this imaginary line. No loudspeakers or binoculars needed.

Now if we can figure out a way for the old guy to make it all the way out of the house to the doggy restroom area before the transaction commences…

Wearing slippers for safety reasons,

– bob

July 7, 2011

And Then July Happened

Friends,

Well, where did we leave off? Oh yeah, I had half a job, my teensy racecar was overheating, and my family was itching to descend on the Damp Dog Lodge for the Fourth of July festivities here in America’s Cleanest Forest. How’d all that turn out? I might as well tell you about that stuff, but I’m saving the big announcement for tomorrow. It’s as close as you can get to exciting without crossing over that line. Think of it like having home made strawberry ice cream, only to find out that the chunks of fruit had frozen into blocks of ice. Let’s go!

The radiator problem in the tiny racecar was solved by installing a new one, but not just any one would do. Oh no. I had to get a shiny new extra capacity Koyo aluminum radiator from the good people at Good-Win Racing. While much more expensive than a stock replacement, it holds more coolant and is much shinier. It’s kinda neat to be able to run the air conditioning down in the desert without the thing boiling over. Trust me on this. It’s also shinier.

I was concerned, given the now proven to be wildly inaccurate weather predictions, that it’d be an unreasonably hot weekend for my guests so I bought an inflatable kiddie pool and water guns so that they could cool down a bit. I needn’t have worried since monsoonal cloud cover rolled in and made Sunday and Monday an absolute treat.

The only times tempers really flared was when somebody achieved more treats than somebody else. Minor slights, easily handled by bringing out more treats. The kitchen overflowed this weekend, presumably because my siblings thought that we all might go hungry and brought bags and boxes and coolers full of provisions.

Naturally, we all went to the Idyllwild Fourth of July Parade. It’s a tradition, an event and a spectacle all rolled up into one.

Some of us came for that spectacle. Some were excited about the entrants in the parade flinging candy at the crowd. Some just came to have a good time.

Some came to see men with dogs in their trousers riding motorcycles.

There are those of us who don’t think it’s a proper parade unless the UC Riverside Pipe and Drum Band passes by. They stopped in front of us to finish the song they’d started 100-feet away and it was a real treat. There’s video of some of their performance, but it’s on Facebook and I don’t know if you’ll be able to see it. Let me know and I’ll see if I can get it somewhere else.

Then there was a Jeepster, which are as rare as hen’s teeth. Then another.

At the very end of the parade, the party fire truck. These folks were tearing all over the hill with sirens blaring, bells clanging and what sounded like wasted co-eds whooping all weekend. My folks were annoyed. I was entertained. If you had an antique fire truck with seating for twenty, what you you do?

I thought so.

Big announcement tomorrow! I hope you can still get to sleep.

Your pal,

– bob

June 20, 2011

Pollen: The Photo Series That Killed My Camera

It's like it's going fast, or something.

Friends,

I haven’t driven the teensy tiny racecar in a few days and it has sat outside waiting for another trip to the Festival of Dirt. Also during this lovely springtime period, the local forest has been blowing its bits all over the neighborhood to encourage the propagation of little forests. You can tell which cars carry locals, for instance, by the greenish-yellow pollen dusting their windows and wherever any amount of crud has accumulated. Crud is my middle name since I don’t wash the cars very regularly (there’s only a finite amount of water up here, you know) and the pollen adhesion has taken on patterns formed by weeks old grime that I found kinda interesting.

I liked this shot for the swoop under the mirror. It’s almost like nature is dusting for prints of when I was speeding. Not that I would ever do that of course, but the forest is perfectly within its rights to investigate a hunch.

Then there’s the hood. Either the aerodynamics over the hood are nuts or this is completely random and makes no sense whatsoever. I’ll take both.

Then I was attacked by a swarm of mosquitos that came from nowhere down in the driveway, which prompted my frenzied swatting. The front of the lens of my camera flew off, as did some of the little shutter vanes and when I turned the camera off, the lens jammed and now it won’t restart. This stinks. Especially considering that my favorite camera holiday on the Fourth of next month is rapidly approaching. Cross your fingers that Canon can finish the repair in a week, like they say they can.

Your pal,

– bob

June 9, 2011

The Rise Of The Monkey Boy

Friends,

The old man of our doggie universe, Bruno the monkey-brained boy, will be summering at the Damp Dog Lodge this year and I have to say that I’m thrilled. He’s not feeling so hot lately and is having some fairly serious neurological problems, but I’ve gotta say that I hope he’ll really enjoy the next month or so up here in the pines. The fresh air, the critters scampering about, the birds to stare at…

Will he actually manage to live through the month? We can hope.

At least he’ll have a lovely time.

– bob