Paul Boomer is alive

Word has come into Kadizzled that Paul Boomer survived the outhouse explosion. Pictured above is Boomer with his trainers discussing a rematch with Lord Windischmeer. Should this materialize it will be one of the great rematches of history. I checked on Google and if you put Paul Boomer in the search engine, you can get a free audio of the original match.

Lord Windischmeer at Dead Horse Ranch

Either you know this part of American History or you don’t. Prior to World War two, a famous match occurred between Lord Windiscmheer, and Paul Boomer. Many people have since enjoyed the recording of the match, which was, originally broadcast over radio. Paul Boomer as you may remember worked his way to this country from Australia on a cabbage boat. Lord Windiscmheer came over from England. They agreed to meet in a neutral country because of the importance of the match. If my recollection is correct Lord Windeschmeer lost the close match when he fouled out at the pole.

Now, as Paul Harvey would say, for the rest of the story. Many people have wondered what happened to both Paul Boomer, and Lord Windischmeer. Paul Boomer died in an outhouse explosion within a year of the match. After years of investigation by William T. Butcher and Associates, Lord Windiscmheer was tracked down in Canada, living under the alias Perry Foster. Tired of being hounded by the paparazzi the Lord decided to lead a simpler life. I have become friends with Lord Windischmeer through pheasant hunting connections, and graciously his Lordship agreed to join us at the Dead Horse Ranch in Cottownwood, Arizona. His Lordship drove up in the royal carriage from his winter home in Sun City. His Lordship is enjoying a comfortable retirement with the proceeds from a successful book on his sport. I can faithfully report his Lordship is still windy, but the wind is now coming from a different direction. He has an elaborate collection of stories and jokes, which keep his friends entertained late into the night

A gathering of Eagles at Dead Horse Ranch

It is going to be a perfect day. The stars were out as bright as possible last night. One amazing thing about a lot of towns around here is the fact that they delibrately prohibit a lot of street lighting, and other extranous lighting. The cities do it to help the telescopes in the area. If the rest of the country would adopt this policy we would be well on our way to less pollution, and massive energy saving. I see no downside to it. The whole atmosphere at night is so much nicer. I doubt there is any difference in crime or anything else because millions of unesscessary lights don't burn all night. Think of the tax dollars that go into needless street lighting.

Back to the eagles. Ed in his Casita, featured above, moved to Dead Horse Ranch State Park in Cottonwood. Perry is coming up with Mona from Sun City on Friday to Dead Horse. The plan is to explore the area together and have a small get together. Perry is a good hunting friend from Canada. We will move to Dead Horse tomorrow.

Do something with that big belly of yours Mike!

The commander is constantly complaining about the size of my spare tire. She always says "What are you going to do about that?" and points to my big belly. So I came up with the idea below. To see it you have to click on the little play arrow button in the middle and it will play. There is sound with it. You need a big belly for this type of art. I want to do a big picture tonight so I am having a beer right now and will have a nice dinner.

My Job

Yesterday we were in Flagstaff, one of America's liberal kingdoms. The selection of bumper stickers was excellent. My favorite was "My job is to comfort the disturbed, and disturb the comfortable. Second place went to "Who is the president of the United States. The answer is a no brainer".

Shortly after reading these I encountered one of the disturbed. God must always be trying to test me. I failed. Patty and I sat in a nice little place to eat. From out of no where an Indian woman appeared on my left shoulder. She started asking me for money. Her smell tipped me off that she was collecting money for an alcohol experiment. My first response was to pretend like I did not speak English, that didn't work. Next in English I tried to explain to her that she was dressed better than I was dressed. Of course those who know me realize that would not take much. Well, that didn't deter her either. Finally I signaled the waiter. He came over and asked what I needed. I to him "I need you to give her some spare change". He escorted her to the door and offered her some crackers. She refused the crackers. Apparently she had a very specific hunger.

Mother of All Traffic Jam/Snow mess

The Commander, Lord Kadizzle, and Miss Patty set off for Flagstaff on a simple mission yesterday. Patty needed to sell some books at Bookman's. The rest of the trip invovled checking out some of the local fribble stores, that stock such things as candles shaped like catus. Another part of the mission was to buy some MRE's. MREs are meals ready to eat, used by the military. Cissie and I ate them one nite at the Grand Canyon. They were not that bad, but the best thing is that they have a neat heating system that makes them ideal for emergencies, like wars, and hiking. We could not find the genuine item, but did find some repackaged in a sporting goods store. It is actually illegal to sell them, so that may explain part of the problem. None were bought.

Finally we headed back to Rim Rock. Now the fun began. It started to snow. Very quickly the road was covered. The road from Flagstaff to Rimrock is one giant hill. It wasn't long before a car did a spectacular spin in front of us and went in the median. Next all traffic came to a halt. We became stationary from 3:15 to 8:30. The incompetence of the Arizona Highway Patrol was beyond belief. About 2 miles in front of us,two trucks wrecked on a bridge on the interstate. Obviously,there was no organized plan with how to deal with it. Getting tow trucks and wreckers to the site was the first major problem. With an ounce of intelligence, they could have had an officer organize the stranded cars so the wrecker could get past. No such luck. I ended up going down the line on foot getting people to move their vehicles out of the way. The Highway patrol thanked me, but did not have enough sense to send two officers in a car, so they could do the same thing.

The communication system that was supposed to help motorists was useless. If you dialed 511, which was supposed to provide information, you merely were told there was a wreck. They did not even have enough sense to close the road. So traffic continued to back up for hours. There were so many simple common sense things the State could have done to make the whole mess simpler to deal with. My sister said this happens frequently. If this country is supposedly capable of dealing with terrorists, a simple wreck on the interstate would show it just ain't so.

For a while, traffic was shut off on the North bound lane. It could have been because of a wreck, or perhaps they actually engaged their brains. At 8:30 when we were finally were able to move, we could see the same mess developing on the North bound lane. Beyond belief, the Arizona Highway Patrol did not stop traffic south of the hill climb to Flagstaff, nor did they tell tractor trailers to stay off the road. Instead, they allowed another five hour traffic jam to develop on the North lane. I am 57 years old and have never seen a traffic mess of this magnitude. Cars were backed up for fifteen miles on the North bound lane, and more were driving up the hill as fast as they could to participate in the stand still. The fact that this apparently happens all the time and the State of Arizona has no communication plan to deal with it is beyond comprehension. The State actually has some of those large digital signs over the highway that can provide information. Why they don't use them is incomprehensible. The whole thing is equivalent to letting people drive off a cliff for hours and not realizing you could tell them there was a cliff ahead.

As we sat in the car for hours, the MREs I did not buy seemed like a good deal at seven dollars apiece. Now the biggest problem in the whole mess turned out to be women peeing. At some point this problem has to be resolved. The choices are (1) go down in the woods behind a tree (2) pee between the front door and rear door of the car (3) squat in front of a tractor trailer. Number one would not work, because if traffic started to move while you were in the woods, all cars must move. Some older ladies chose the tractor trailer route. If you use this choice remember to tell the driver so he can shut off the headligths, and not drive over you. Miss Patty, and the Commander took choice two. Choice two works pretty well unless a nit wit comes along driving on that side to head for the cut across.

Something tells me that the next time Arizona has this situation, they will learn nothing from it. Like most American problems we accept them rather than solve them. Had the highway patrol simply gone down the miles of parked cars and told everyone to move as far to the right as possible, emegency vehicles could have very quickly moved to the scene of the problem. The current system the state has developed involves emergency vehicles passing on the right for a while and then on the left if this doesn't work. The net result are hours of unnecessary delay. Also the state has the option to send the heavy tow trucks from the south in the North lane. This would be quite simple and effective, but must not have ever occurred to them.

New York Times Book Review

When The Commander can get her hands on the Sunday edition of the New York Times, it is a luxery she insist on. This morning I was reading the book reviews, because The Commander wanted the laptop. I came accross a book by John Mueller A STATE OF TERROR. The basis of the book is "A real but limited threat has been inflated to produce widespread and unjustified anxiety". Mr. Mueller has put into words something I have been thinking about for some time. He suggest that the 9/11 attacks were probably a one-time event that cannot be repeated. As Mueller explains in "Overblown," fear of flying after 9/11 led to increases in long distance driving that probably killed way more people in accidents than died on the four planes hijacked on 9/11. In his words "Which is the greater threat: terrorism, or the reaction against it?....A threat that is real but likely to prove to be of limited scope has been massively, perhaps even fancifully, inflated to produce widespread and unjustified anxiety. This process has then led to wasteful, even self-parodic expenditures and policy overreactiions."

The whole thing reminds me of the great Y2K jazz that occurred when the year 2000 came. All these dingalings predicted computer problems that would bring the world to a stand still. Billions were spent for nothing. The sad thing about the 9/11 nonsense is that Osma Bin Ladin has been able to harvest way more from his incident in terms of hurting us than he could ever have imagined. 99 percent of the damage has been due to our over reaction. Much like the great communist witch hunts this will take years to end, before people realize the whole thing was blown way out of proportion. If you ever observed little kids you would know that sometimes they enjoy being scared. I think 9/11 gave use a chance to go back to childhood idiocy.

The Commander Speaks

The day after arriving at the Phantom Ranch, Mike and I finally had a day apart. I wanted to hike up to Ribbon Falls on the North Kaibab Trail- a 12 mile roundtrip hike. Mike preferred to rest his turkeys around the Colorado River. He wanted to make me take a two radio, but I refused as it was nice being on my own for a whole day. Also, the radios would not have worked for more than one twist in the canyon walls. The hike through the earth over 5,000 ft. below the surface was a history lesson in geology and kept reminding me of the scenes on TV of molten lava flowing through rock and rising up out of the ground. This rock was now cold but still had the appearance of flowing rock. The prize at the end of the 6 miles was Ribbon Falls. The photos do not show the heighth of the falls, which was at least 150' over all. You could hike behind the falls and view the world through the falls. After this walk through time, I hiked back as quickly as possible in order to make it to the Ranch's cantina for beers before supper.

Blind Man hikes out of Grand Canyon

Anyone, who knows The Commander knows she suffers from hyperactivity, consequently I have to use special techniques when I hike with her. The Commander typically goes up the trail like a monkey with it’s tail on fire. My solution for this problem getting out of the Grand Canyon was to leave very early on the first wave of hikers headed out. The Commander would follow on the second wave. This would give me about an hour’s head start.

Breakfast is served at 5:30 for the first shift. Naturally I was first in line and first finished. Immediately against the protest of the commander, I took off in the dark. It was very dark and I began to think about the foolishness of my adventure. Most of the trail hangs on the edge of a cliff, and if you fall off death would be better than the injury you would receive.

As I went down the first part of the trail it occurred to me I had to pass the Ranger’s house. I was concerned the Ranger may tell me I could not continue until daylight. How to explain my stupidity was my puzzle. Then I remembered Owen’s Chihuahua joke. Owen is Bill Butcher’s grandson. The joke revolves around a blind man who discovers they gave him a Chihuahua for a Seeing Eye dog.

My plan was that if I saw any signs of the ranger, I would put on my sunglasses in the dark, and pretend like I was finding my way down the path tapping my hiking stick like a blind person. When the ranger barked out “You can’t hike this trail in the dark”, I would reply “ Those ornery roommates told me it was daylight”.

As luck would have it I made it past the Ranger’s house with no problems. In the dark ahead of me on the trail I saw what appeared to be two tiny bright red lights bouncing along the trail ahead of me. The lights did not move in tandem, like eyes, but each one went its own way, even though they stayed close together. Puzzled and with a little trepidation I kept walking toward the lights. Shortly I could make out about a three-year-old boy with his mother hiking down the trail ahead of me. The little boy’s tennis shoes had little lights on the bottom that came on every time he stepped. The mom was just taking him for a morning walk. What an experience, to be three years old hiking with your mom at five thirty beside the Colorado River at the bottom of the grand Canyon in the dark.

My plan worked and I made the five thousand foot rise to the top about forty five minutes before Winky.

Lord Kadizzle Claims Colorado River for North Dakota

Much to their surprise The Commander and Lord Kadizzle dicovered a river at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. After some discussion with the Commander, Lord Kadizzle decided to claim the River for North Dakota. With the current condition of Lake Sakakawea they thought it would be a good idea.

Cheeseburger, and Fries

To refresh your memory I will repeat that since Thanksgiving I have been carring tow turkeys right above my belt. I have named them Cheeseburger, and his friend Fries. You can see them in the picture above. When we got to the bottom of the Grand Canyon I let them walk around a bit, knowing I was going to have to break the bad news. On the way down the two birds hammered me to death. It took me a full day to recover. It was time to tell one he was history and not making the trip up the five thousand foot climb out of the Canyon. Having to choose between Cheeseburger adn Fries was tough. They had both been good to me. Both had comforted me in many times of distress. Finally I looked in Fries eyes and told him the bad news. He looked back with that expression he always gets the day before Thanksgiving.

The Commander Conquers the Canyon

As we stood on the top of the Grand Canyon I was nervous. The Commander made me stand at attention as she inspected my gear. "Look you wimp", she said "You and those two turkeys are going in, and one turkey aint commin back". Then she yelled, "Any questions?". Sheepishly, I replied "No mam, sir".

Commander planning assault

Immersed in maps and books the commander is sitting across the table plannning her assault on the Grand Canyon tomorrow. Will we need crampons? Lord Kadizzle has been trying to figure how he can make crampons from beer bottle caps and electrical wire tires, other wise we may have to buy some. The plan is to get up early drive to the canyon from Camp Verde, and begin the descent. The weather looks like it may cooperate mildly. Friday should be nice. Lord Kadizzle is concerned about lugging the two turkeys up the canyon.

Technology triumphs over Indians but barely

Yesterday, Lord Kadizzle, and The Commander set out to find some Indian petroglyphs. The Indians make them, and hide them. It is our job to find them. Being a good American that solves all problems with the most up to date technology, I first found the site on my laptop super duper computer program that gives the GPS location. There was one major flaw in the process. I asked Uncle Ned "Is this where we look?". Ned looked at the map where I had the computer pointer and said yes. So I wrote down a series of coordinates and off we went. The Commander and I hiked a mile and a half up the most rugged boulder strewn stream you can imagine. Since we are old hands at this we both gradually realized something was wrong. There were not suitable Indian blackboards in the valley. Indians always use the same rock to make petroglyphs. The Commander got the brilliant idea that we should call Uncle Ned on the cell phone and recheck our information. From the bottom of the canyon we were lucky enough to reach Ned. After I gave Ned the coordinates, he told me we were fifty miles away from the right location. Luckily we do not work for Nasa, we would be on Mars looking for the moon. It turned out Ned and I were not using the same data system. Once we were on the same page Ned reported we had passed the site by about a mile and a half.

In frustration we went backwards clear to the truck where we started. On the way we searched every possible location. Nothing turned up. I got to the truck before the Commander and noticed perfect Indian message board downstream from where I was. In the meantime the Commander called Ned again and Ned gave a better description of what we should be looking for. Shortly we found the site. Of course it was within a couple hundred yards of where we go out of the truck. However, it was down stream, not up stream. If we had used intuition instead of technology, the trip would have taken one hour instead of three. The Indians were lucky they did not have GPS to guide them, or the White Man would have won sooner. Now it is easier to see how the terrorist do so well in Iraq against our technology.

Please look at the picture carefully. What you are seeing may be a petroglyph of a saber tooth tiger. This is a very rare petroglyph and archeologists are very puzzled why it is here. In our travels we have seen hundreds of sites, none has ever contained this glyph.

The Fribble Hunt

Since the weather was a little rainy yesterday the Commander and Lord Kadizzle decided to go to Sedona and entertain ourselves by wandering around the stores. We made the mistake of going into the heart of the fribble sales district. What is a fribble? Fribbles are the things you buy that have no practical use or value. For some strange reason when a person goes on vacation they feel compelled to buy some silly object that they can take home. Surely someone will come by and say "Where did you get that?". Then you reply, "When we were in Sedona, I saw this wonderful little shop...." The fribble industry is amazing. Ideally you have fribbles made from local junk. In the southwest this can be an old branding iron or whatever. I have always been amazed that just about anywhere you go in the Southwest you can buy large chunks of crystal glass. Since I am from West Virginia, I know where these come from. West Virginia makes a lot of high quality crystal. At a certain time they have to clean out the furnace that melts the glass. When they do, they end up with huge chunks of crystal, which are essentially garbage in West Virginia. However, in the Southwest fribble shops they look like huge uncut diamonds. So the fribble shops display them on a table, and make no claim as to what they are. Fribble hunters see them and pay five to ten dollars for glass that is dumped as garbage in West Virginia. So it goes. The commander and I have been thinking about getting into the fribble business. While hunting in North Dakota we noticed an old pickup truck full of partially decomposed buffalo skulls. In the Southwest we have come to find that the skulls sell for as much as $100 a piece. If you decorate them the price can approach one thousand. Following the principle that garbage in one state is treasure in another we may go into the fribble business.

Mexican fribbles drive me nuts. The commander has a weakness for Mexican fribbles. Someone in every tourist town has figured out that you can always sell Mexican fribbles. You simply go to Mexico and pick up truckloads of "art" made by starving Mexicans and bring it back to the states. When I used to do industrial work I was always amazed that Mexican junk dealers would come to North Dakota and pick up a truck load of industrial steel scrap. In the Southwest you can see what left North Dakota at $25 a ton has returned to Arizona for $25 dollars a pound as a modern art version of a Mexican playing a guitar, and we have the audacity to call these people stupid and lazy.

Without you , we are but dust

In church this morning we were sitting beside a little girl and her mother when the preacher began his sermon.

..."Dear Lord," the minister began,
with arms extended toward heaven and a rapturous look on his
upturned face. "Without you, we are but dust." He would have
continued but at that moment the little girl sitting next to me who
was listening leaned over to me and asked quite audibly in her

shrill little four year old girl voice, "Mr, what is butt dust?"

The Rapture

Not everyone has seen the show "Six feet under". It is on HBO and is about a family that runs a funeral home. This morning Patty told me about an episode we missed. I thought you might enjoy the synopsis. Keep in mind that when the rapture occurs the saved are supposed to float up to heaven.


Episode #41, "In Case of Rapture," commences with the death of Dorothy Sheedy, 40 years young, who is described as "a devoted member of the First Baptist Church of Los Angeles."

Our story begins with two workers who are busy filling up inflatable sex dolls with helium, so that they can be used for a display at an adult film awards show. After clowning around with inhaled helium, the two gents begin to transport the inflatable dolls, secured under a net in the back of their pick-up truck. Preoccupied for a moment with an X-rated adult magazine, they stop short to avoid hitting a skateboarder. The sudden stop, however, loosens the net; unbeknownst to the workers, the dolls start floating upward toward the sky.

Coming from another direction, Sheedy is driving her car, with its "I Brake for the Rapture" bumper sticker. She’s listening to a Christian radio broadcast on marital relations, uttering "Praise the Lord," as she nods her head in agreement with the talk-show host. Suddenly, Sheedy stops her car. She can hardly believe the sight before her eyes. Seeing the dolls floating toward the heavens, she mistakes them for actual angelic human beings, heaven-bound, as part of the foretold Rapture, when Christ removes all the right-believing Christians from the Earth to spare them the onslaught of the End of Days. It’s a little piece of religious eschatology, justified by certain Protestant sects with references to books of the Old and New Testament.

"Oh My Lord, Sweet Jesus," Sheedy exclaims. She cannot contain her joy as a witness to the heavenly vanishing. Moving toward the imagined Rapture, her arms outstretched toward the clouds, she walks into the road, and gets hit—and killed—by an oncoming car.

At the funeral home of the Fishers, her widower husband appears to fully accept his wife’s death as the Will of God. Clearly, her time had come.

Hygiene on the road

Every so often we have to do laundry. We have been lucky so far and been able to stop with friends and get er done. You can see what happens in the picture above if you let the laundry over ripen.

Problems with the gene pool.

Frequently the commander tells me I am not normal, or right, or something to that effect. Lord Kadizzle will have to admit there are some aberrations in our gene pool. I am not the only one in the family with DNA gone astray. My sister Kate thinks DNA stands for Does Not Apply. We are not sure if she has any, but it scares me that we may share some. Today she sent me the following problem.

You are driving in a car at a constant speed. On your left side is a drop off (The ground is 18-20 inches below the level you are traveling on), and on your right side is a fire engine traveling at the same speed as you. In front of you is a galloping horse which is the same size as your car and you cannot overtake it. Behind you is another galloping horse. Both horses are also traveling at the same speed as you. What must you do to safely get out of this highly dangerous situation?

It turned out the answer was "Get your drunk ass off the merrygoround". I think Kate must have solved this problem at one time or another.

What if you treed one of these? Would you know what to do?

Back to Sedona today. It seems like the commander and I have covered just about every major trail in Sedona. The hiking is excellent there, and it is easy to see why the wealthy have purchased the town. One of the biggest things our goverment has ever done right is to preserve public land, otherwise common people would be excluded from every nice part of the county. The commander is excited about trying to hike down into the Grand Canyon. Currently we are scheduled to make the treck on the 16th. In fact she also plans to go later to Havasupi falls from the Peach Springs area.

Ed meets up with Wagon Train

We spent two nights with our old friend Ed. Of course we played Mexican Train. On the second night battery problems forced us to play with headlamps on our heads. Anyone observing from outside must have thought some kind of mentally deficient group was having a meeting. Today Ed headed to Congress where ever that is, and The Commander and I returned to sister Patty's. Things are deluxe now at Patty's. The wifi was just installed today, so we can sit in our camper beside their house and use the laptop in Bed. The commander is preparing the coffee for morning at this moment, oh it smells so good, I am going to go to sleep, just so I can get up and drink it.

Scrabble under the Pale Verde

We finally met up with Ed. We went to Alamo Lake, but did not like it so we returned to Vulture Peak. We hiked Vulture Peak again yesterday and spent about two hours up there just gazing around. In the next couple days we will go back to Cottonwood to see Patty. Cissie is getting a strong notion to hike the Grand Canyon, so I feel that is coming up soon.

Big Hike

Yesterday we went up Vulture Peak, another one of those hikes with the first mile easy, and the last quater mile straight up. We found a very nice place for the camper near the peak. This is near Wickenburg AZ. This blasted library will not let you upload pictures. We have decided to stay here another day, and then go to Almo Lake. We cannot mannage to hook up with Ed. Today may be bike riding.

The Heard Museum

We drove with Perry and his GPS, which he has named Gladdis to the Heard Museum. Gladdis tells you every turn to make and even chides you when you are speeding. Since it was a rainy day, the trip was a good plan. The Heard Museum is one of the Southwest's premier Indian museums. I am beginning to feel that if an Indian made something, or built something, it is our mission in life to see it. We will probably be involved in the next Indian census.

Today we are going to leave Perry and Mona's for points to the Northwest. They have been gracious host and we are considering a career of just traveling the country bumming from old friends. Perry has a nice place on the golf course, and you can just walk to the clubhouse for lunch if need be. Life is good in Sun City, and Cissie and I have met the minimum age requirements.

A Trip To Lake Pleasant

Yesterday we drove to Lake Pleasant with Perry. Two sailboats were actually out on the water. It looked like there may be some nice camping places by the water. We may move up there tomorrow, but that decision is still up in the air. Today we are going to the Hurd Museum with Perry. Weather here has been overcast, which is unusual. Perry says the orange crop has suffered from the cold weather. It looks like giant televisions are taking over here. At Ken Petersons we saw his giant TV, and now we are watching the History channel here on Perry's huge tv. These new televisions must have magical properties, because I dreamed last night I was in a river in Africa swimming with alligators. This must have been the result of watching a program about Africa before I went to bed. In my dream I was walking in the river for awhile carrying some raw chicken meat. It occurred to me this was not a good idea in the presence of alligators, so reluctantly I threw it away. Here I am drinking coffee, so everything worked out fine.

Sun City

The retinue has made it to Perry Foster's in Sun City. We just finished lunch at his country club. No blue jeans allowed, so we had to change into something respectable. We are parked out front charging, cell phones, camper battery, computer, and anything else that will hold electricity. Perry is going to take us up to Lake Pleasant. Our next destination is still uncertain.

Justin Makes it to the top.

Today we hiked up to Weavers Needle. Our new friend Justin (time) went with us. I had my doubts that Justin could make the whole hike, it was about eight miles and very hard hiking. Justin who is ten did fine, I am recommending him to be a junior Indian guide. He became very proficient at finding the trail. He learned to see rock cairns and help lead the way. He is the son of the camp host where we are staying. We will be there again tonight. The camp is along the Salt River south of the Saguaro Dam. I am about worn out form hiking every day. We are still trying to meet up with Ed our friend with the Casita camper. Ed is in Yuma AZ. We are going to visit Perry Foster in a day or two. Who knows where next. We have had a few people interested in the house in Hazen, and it looks like we have a place to rent at the lake in North Dakota. Cissie is still hot ot buy a house near my sister Patty in Cottonwood. I cannot put up pictures from here, but will try to get some up from the hike today when we get to wi fi. We can get a cell signal where we are now. Justin wants a hamburger for a reward for completing the great hike. Yesterday I mentioned to Justin we were hiking today. He asked what time are you leaving. I was surprised to see him this morning when we about to leave at seven thirty with his pack on ready to go, we could not turn him down. He had sandwiches and water and was ready to go.

Ray is gettin er done, get out of the way

When Ray decides to do something, it is going to happen quick, so get out of the way. Seems like just a couple days ago he said he was going to build a canoe. Look how far along he is already. If he started a war in Iraq it would have been done years ago, and he would already have Iran, and Korea done. Ray for president.

Moving Day

The picture above is of the ruin at Rogers Trough, you can see the site was well preserved, and the room on the right had the roof intact, which is rare. From the inside you can clearly see the craftsmanship of the roof. Speaking of Craftsmanship, Ray Kerns sent us some pictures of the canoe he is building. Today we will move over to the Salt River and camp. On the river we will be waiting for Ray to come by in his canoe. At the rate Ray is going we expect him by the weekend. Yesterday we hiked out of a friend of a friend's backyard. As usual we went up the peak like our butts were on fire. It was more than a thousand feet in about an hour. Came down and sat in the backyard of his very nice home in Scottsdale and relaxed. We are down in Mesa now getting groceries and permits. May stay in the Phoenix area for a few days along the Salt River below Saguaro Dam. The dam is a little north of Usery park. Cissie may fish, they claim there are trout in the Salt River.

We made it, but recovery will take awhile

Ken Peterson, Cissie, and Mike made the big hike down Rogers Trough today. The Ruins we found were excellent. The day was perfect, but getting the two turkeys down the draw and back was a feat. Ken had trouble getting his turkeys in and back. In case you don't remember one turkey equals twenty pounds overweight. At Thanksgiving Cissie pointed at the Turkey and told me I was carrying two of them with me all the time. Those turkeys do not hike well, they want to rest, and going up hill they are a pain, but on the way down they hammer you to death. I am thinking of firing a turkey or trading one in for a chicken. With no WiFi I cannot put pictures on here. We are again at Ken and Terry's. Good food, and desert. Now, another Phoenix friend wants us to hike tomorrow. Today's hike was eight miles, I don't know if I can make another one tomorrow.

Big Hike today, and tomorrow

We had a big hike today and tomorrow will Hike with Ken up Rogers Trough. It will be a tuff one. We may move down near the Salt river to stay for a couple days. We are at Usery Park today and tomorrow by Mesa.

Made it to Phoenix

Cissie and I are sitting with Ken and Terry watching football, Excellent chili ect. As soon as the sun comes out in a couple days we are planning a big hike. We are staying at McDowell Mountian park, but will move to Usery tomorrow. Cissie wants to see Taliesin, Frank Loyd Rights home in the morning.

Learn to Speak Body: Tape 5

Wagon Train headed to Phoenix and points South

Barring any unforeseen problems we will take off today to go to Phoenix. Once there we may visit Ken and Terry Peterson. More than likely we will have little if any Internet for awhile. We may stay at Usery State Park near Mesa. We will keep going south until it gets warmer.

Snow in the desert

Snow is on the ground this morning. Sister Suzie just left for church to pray for Lord Kadizzle. Last night we had a very good Mexican supper out with the local clan. Unbelievably some are eating Mexican left overs for breakfast.

Not for Fuzzies, but very good article

On my other blog I just posted an excellent speech from Bill Moyers. He expresses the ideas I believe in so well, why should I bother. This is not material the Fuzzies should be reading. Go to the link http://idignatioin.blogspot.com/ to get to the other blog

Royalty gathers in Arizona

With snow in the desert the Duchess of Dallas and the Dutchess of Dollars from Pittsburgh arrived at Princess Patty's Mansion on the Mesa. Tonight only the finest noodles will be served with the spaghetti. If you wondered what a half ton of Quinns would look like you need only look above. Lord Kadizzle attended by the royal family. Of course Lord Kadizzle makes up a quarter ton himself. After dinner we will drive to the truck stop to see if we are still legal with four axles.

Commander headed to Iraq to kick some ass

The commander can be seen above with her shotgun headed for Iraq. Her presence will surely unite the religious factions. When she starts bossing them around they will unite to drive her out. This will ultimately bring peace.

View from living room

Lord Kadizzle is looking out the window from the kitchen nook. The kitchen is to the right.

Back of Commanders Choice

The Commander is house hunting

The commander is hell bent to buy a house in Arizona. She say she has to have one a couple blocks away from sister Patty. Patty lives near Camp Verde, which is NW of Cottonwood. Cottonwood is about 15 minutes south of Sedona. So if you know anyone who wants a deal on a house in Hazen. Let us know, quick.

Find Lord Kadizzle in the picture

On the way up the moutian to get the commandments. Once we got there and picked up the tablets, it turned out the commander had written the commandments. Thou shalt pick up thy clothes, Thou shout always obey the commander, Thou shout let the commander have the remote control, Thou shout do the dishes, ect.

Lord Kadizzle takes two turkeys on walk to 6444 ft

At Thanksgiving someone pointed out to his lordship that his belly weighed as much as two Thanksgiving turkey's. On our hike yesterday the two turkeys went six miles and gained elevation of two thousand feet. The turkeys did fine on the way up, but having those turkeys hammer my back bones on the way down a steep trail was almost enought to make me want to divorce the turkeys.

If you look at the picture very carefully you will see two white dots. Those dots are RVs at the Palatki Indian site in the center of the picture. The Palatki site is the most visited in the Sedona area.

Lord Kadizzle, a man of vision

People often ask "Where do you get your insight?", "How do you see the future"?. I am reluctant to reveal the process, but I will. Here you see me with my special glasses. These glasses have one double " A " battery in the little device between the eyes. This battery shakes the whole system which is pressed against the head in key places. Turned on you feel a little like you are being electrocuted. The shaking loosens the molecules in the brain. It is a cheap way to rattle the brain. Now you can understand how my thought process works, and know how I reach conclusions others would miss.

Duke Rightious'

A peaceful interlude

The commander is planning a hike today. A little heat is all we need. The sun is coming up and the day looks good in the desert. We are patiently awaiting the arrrival of the Dutchess of Dallas,and her sister from the principality of Pittsburgh. Currently they are in Los Angeles and plan to rent a royal coach to make the trip to Cottonwood.

Patty fires out Double Wide Macaroni, in trailer trash division

What a nice presentation! Patty was right proud of her macaroni. However, I suggested she might dress it up a bit. My suggestion was to interlace string cheese with Slim Jims in a pie crust pattern. This could get her the annual award. There was some debate about a new catagory of dishes made with goverment commodities,and things you can buy at a convience store. Judges will be giving this some consideration. If such a catagory developes, Fran would do very well with his brownie mix and ice cream dish, topped with chocolate syrup.

Eggalalagoldenrod

One wonderful part of being with siblings is remembering ridiculous things from growing up. Patty for some reason brought up eggalalagoldenrod. This was an old concoction all eighth graders were taught to make at Woodsdale School in home ec class. I think the proper name was eggs a la goldenrod. Now the picture is fairly accurate, but the bread was supposed to be toasted by being pushed into a muffin pan.


Tonight for dinner we are having macaroni and cheese. Patty wants to enter her entry in my cooking contest. I am going to allow the entry, but it will be under the trailer trash division. Cisse frequently makes concotions that do not fit in any catagory. We call it gwample. Gwample can be very good. We would like to get some good gwample recipes if anyone has any. A good gwample dish usually has some vegetables, noodles, and some kind of meat. However, gwample is freestlye, so do what you want. Be sure to remember gwample is not hot dish. Hot dish is always made in a glass pan, and must be baked. Hot dish generally follows the gwample rules, but gwample is almost always made in a frying pan.

Since we put a wheel on the commander's side

A little Inspiration

As Sunday approaches a little Inspiration is in order

Prosperity hits everywhere

Driving through Bellfourch, South Dakota these people were standing on the road hyping payday loans. Bellfourch is in the middle of nowhere. Beulah, North Dakota has payday loans. Paying the CEO of Home Depot $210 million dollars to produce nothing for the stock holders of the company has no effect on the common working people, nor does dropping the tax rates for the wealthy. These things only help make us a prosperous country. It is just coincidence that these payday loan outfits are cropping up in every little town on the planet. God Bless George Bush.

Lord Kadizzle and his courtesan Mae

Mae made lunch for me and the commander. Now Mae is the kind of girlfriend any man would want. You can see her treating Lord Kadizzle to the deluxe life in the picture above. You may note Lord Kadizzle is in the special launch chair. When Lord Kadizzle arrives at Mae's, she sits him down, takes off his shoes, and fires up the heating pad. After Lord Kadizzle pushes the full recline button Mae reappears with his drink of choice. Ah! life is good. To quote Mae "A man is like a fire if you don't tend him, he will go out". To quote Cissie "If Mike was on fire I wouldn't piss on him to put him out".

Now, about the launch feature of Mae's chair, when you push the up button it brings you to a full standing position. Once you have reached the standing position, it is only a matter of walking a few feet to a well set table. For lunch we had chicken noodle soup, and welfare cheese. Mae said she cannot stand the cheese you get with the commodity allotment from the government, but it was just fine for our toasted cheese sandwiches.

Mae was kind enough to store our camping trailer for about a month. In exchange we dropped off all her request from North Dakota, which turned out to be two pheasants, a grouse, and one windshield scraper. Mae doesn't even have a car, but she wanted a scraper for guest if there happened to be some ice on their windshield. Mae is a host hard to beat.

Cooking Smack Down Looks eminient

In the picture above you can see Carol Galvin confronting Ivy from Evergreen. Ivy got word Carol was the big lefsa dog in Hazen, and said "Bring it on Carol". Ivy claims not only can she fire out a pie, but good lefsa is do da for her. Things are heating up already in the 2007 cooking contest. Cissie fired out a prime rib for the scrabble tournament that has set the standard for 2007. I feel sure someone is going to ring the doorbell and have a pie in their hand. I know exactly what they will say, "Put some ice cream on that and call Ivy". I hate to see things heat up in this cooking contest, but I like to think of it as the surge we are currently attempting in Iraq. We have to do what has to be done to settle a few things. So let the ovens light.

Crossing the Navajo Reservation at night.

Amazingly the commander decided to do the right thing and bust out of Evergreen yesterday. Our expedition needed to make it to Cottonwood before the weather went to hell. So here we are in Cottonwood. Sister Patty reported this morning that her husband Ned had been wandering around in circles since we left the last time. He was at a loss without us. He made too much oatmeal this morning so I had the pleasure of good oatmeal this morning. He makes it so thick you can use it for grout. The commander is going nuts thinking she is going to buy some property here. Unfortunately the weather here is not that good today. The wind has been terrible. They are warning people with toupees to stay home.

We drove across the Navajo Reservation last night. Cissie was concerned we may come under attack. We got into Cottonwood late and found a couple arrows stuck in the truck, but none hit vital parts.

Driving up the luge course

We made it to Erin's. Woke up to a perfect day with bright sun on the snow. The trip was uneventful except the last three hundred feet. Erin's driveway is like going up a luge course. Because of the snow it is only the excact width of a pickup truck. We finally made it, but at one point I was stuck neither able to go up or down.

Busting out this morning

We are on our way to Erin's. We will be there until Friday, then on to my sister Patty's house in Cottonwood. If you want to contact us by Phone Cissie usually has her cell phone on more than I do. 701-880-6112 Mike's Cell is 701-880-6111. We check our email when we get WiFi every few days. We will have Net access at Patty's and at Erin's.

Wagon Train preparing to leave for Southwest

The pace is picking up around here. The commander has been in an increasing frenzy for the last couple of days as we begin to prepare the wagons to head south. In North Dakota the weather is going to turn sour as the temperatures will plummet this week. Weather will chase us South. The great plan is to visit Erin first, and then on to sister Patty. Once in Cottonwood we will warm up and then head farther South.

With the predicted weather we will be lucky to make it into Erin and Fran's place. The hot tub has been beckoning the Dakota tub, so it is important we make it into the spa.

My box in a box

In order to understand this whole video, you have to know its history. The video was shown on the Kieth Oblerman show on MSNBC tonight. It is a spoof on another video that was shown on Saturday night live. The remarkable thing is that in some of the scnenes in this video, the girl looks a lot like Megan. To top it off the guy looks a little like her boy friend Ned. If you want the whols story go to youtube and see the first video ,,,,, in a Box. I hope no one is offended. Since the whole thing was shown on prime time television, it must be ok.

Protecting the Fuzzies

http://idignatioin.blogspot.com/ This is the link to my other blog Righteous Indignation. You can go to it an read an excellent article by Robert Herbert from the New York Times which explains in detail what the outrageous exectutive pay is doing to the average worker. As I wrote earlier on this blog site I try to avoid facts and reality because it upsets the fuzzies. In the world of the Fuzzies there is no global warming, George Bush is a hero, it never rains the day you get your car washed, and every pheasant you shoot falls at your feet already cleaned.

Children and the fuzzies are very similiar. Both have imaginary figures they believe in. Both truely believe things like gifts from the tooth fairy and farm subsidies come from no where. Children are adorable and fun, so are fuzzies. Children don't create poverty and war, but voting fuzzies can. We all are fuzzies at times, but most of us are willing to slip out of the fuzzie world once in a while and face reality, if indeed there is one.

In the old days I had a girl friend that adopted two young racoons. She was warned many times that when they are young they make wonderful pets, but as they get older watch out. This proved to be quite true. As little racoons they were fun to watch, hold, and adore, but with age they turned mean and did not belong in polite society. These little fuzzies needed to be protected. It turned out the way to do it was let them loose to be fuzzies with the other adult fuzzies. The important lesson was that you had to realize you could not change them. I should have learned that lesson early in life, but I guess I have been a bit of a fuzzie myself.

Eye don't see the world like you do

Summary from Yesterday

I am not sure if yesterday was the last hunt or not. Last night the wind blew about fifty or sixty miles per hour. However, today is nice and sunny and technically the last day of the season. The commander is thinking of a forced march in search of the enemy. Yesterday the birds were again showing their late season smarts. We managed a good pincer move and herded them into the tree row at Emil's. The party consisted of Dennis Dietz, the retired postmaster, Dave Stephens, a hunting friend from way back, and of course the commander and I. There was a terrible outbreak of gunfire around the tree row, with very few casualties. My gun seemed like it was shooting flower from the barrel. The birds would not come down. I finally shot one at high altitude. It came down and started to run. I shot it twice on the ground, and Dave shot at it twice before it finally succumbed. I think it had a kevlar vest on. After the tree row I picked up a straggler trying the old trick of hiding out in the open. The birds gave us a lot of excercise, which is what we really needed. I suspected the cacklers may have gone to high ground which is one of their favorite tactics. I climbed the hill and sure enough they were there. They got up ahead and I fired a couple barrell cleaners. No, luck. The rest of the gang saw a few go in the CRP. Somehow they managed to evaporate. I saw one fly North and had his hiding spot on my radar. I told Dennis where to go and the bird held to the very last moment. Dennis cancelled his postage, and we had three for the day.

Final Round of Pheasant Season Today

Today is the end of the bird season. The birds that are still out there and alive are that way for a reason. Put simply, they are smart. The commander and I chased them senseless yesterday. First, I went back north and retraced my steps from Thursday. On Thursday I lost the cocking lever for my gun. I came across a very nice flock of grouse while in the truck, but did not get a shot. After hiking a mile and one half through and area with lots of known pheasants, I only saw two in the distance. In the afternoon we went South of town. There were about fifty birds out in the open waiting for lead. We played the game plan pretty well. We attacked from the south and they still managed to avoid us. Cissie shot a couple gun cleaners, but no good shots. Then we went into the valley where they hid and ran around in circles chasing birds. Again we had no luck. Next we went over to some public land. Cissie flock shot into some partridge and did no harm. We hunted Dangler's fence row. No bird could be trapped. Somehow they seem to know we are coming from a mile away.

Today if everything comes together, Shanika Stevens will join us from Bismarck, and we will go out to our glory hole. If we can get Emil to go to his farm with us we will make the final assualt. The dumb birds are all dead by now, and the wise old rooster are all that is left. In the last week the commander and I have worked ourselves into soreness. We will need a rest after today.

Dutchess of Dallas casts doubt on Lord Kadizzle's were abouts?

I'm not sure where in the Hell Mike Quinn may be, but I know that guy dancing around the world isn't Lord Kadizzle. The physique of the dancer is far to parsimonious for his Lordship. Having seen Kadizzle dance the jig at his daughter's wedding with his brother and brother-in-law, I also know that the dancer does not match the agility of the Lord when he kicks up his heels. Perhaps if we look under a rock in the backyard in Hazen, we may find Kadizzle. Or should we put on our snorkle gear and check the snowbanks?

I never saw chains on the rear wheel of a motorcycle. I guess we don't get enough snow here to merit chains.

Lord Snowden's apprentice, Michael Weeks, took the attached photo of the Duchess of Dallas. She seems to have fallen into the wrong fairy tale. She looks more like a refugee from Cinderella than a relative of Lord Kadizzle

Where In The Hell Is Mike Quinn

Stanton brings big scrabble guns to Hazen

Apparently word spread to Stanton that some people in Hazen were getting heady about their scrabble talents. The commander and I saw lights coming down 7th AVE, and it was not long before we heard a knock on the door. It was the notorious Kerns Gang from Stanton. They pulled in the driveway with their cycles. With the snow on the ground they had chains on the rear wheels. Their babes were sitting on the back, one had a scrabble game in her hand. It wasn't long before their leader banged on the door and yelled "Open up in there". The commander and I were scared, but we opened the door. Ray said " So you Hazen punks think you can spell, and know a few words, huh". "Well", I replied " We do own a scrabble game". The commander had just cooked a wonderful prime rib, and she was thinking it might calm them down, but when they sat at the table they immediately set their board down and opened it. After a tuff game which Bismarck Ann won, they agreed to eat. Once they knew how the commander could cook, I knew they would not hurt her, but what about me. After I saw Ray was as bad a speller as I am I felt better. I knew Brian's babe could be trouble, she had a scrabble letter on a necklace. For some reason on a chain made of gold most loggers would be proud of she had the letter "J". No telling what she was planning on spelling. Later I found out. She yanked it off and spelled Jazz. It turned out to be a triple word score.

As the night went on we plied them with liquor and managed to win a few games. After they saw we were not knock overs, they settled down. For some reason they liked the word hair, and were not above spelling it hare.

The evening ended, and Hazen did learn a lesson. People in Stanton can spell a few words. As they left they gunned the engines on their cycles and it appeared flames shot from the tires as the snow chains sparked on our pavement. The commander gave them some fresh ginger bread to take home. I think they left in peace. When they left I mooned them and yelled "spell this". Apparently they misunderstood me and thought I said "smell this", because they all shouted back, "We can". If they come back we will be ready for them. I am learning to spell Constantinople with a "K".

Skiing with Lewis and Clark

Last night the commander, myself, and our friend Ray Kerns went skiing along the Missouri River. The ski trail is almost exactly where Lewis and Clark spent the winter with the Mandan Indians. The trail is withing one hundred yards of the village. The moon was full, and our treck through the woods was very pleasant. Geese were bedded down on the river by the thousands. I never new geese slept in the water, but looking down from the banks of the river we could see them around the edges of a sandbar in the water resting for then night. Huge chunks of ice moved quickly down the river and crashed into the banks. In the next day or two if the weather stays right we may make the trip again.

2006 Cooking Awards Announced

I must make note at the outset that Dina, and Cissie are not eligible for the cooking awards that follow. Both have too much inside information, and I would surely be accused of bias. Anyone who looks at me would know 2006 was a good eating year.

Lets start with the ethnic food category. Few will be surprised that Carol Galvin took it with her homemade leftsa. There were some protest when she got the award because she frequently came down the street a day before, or a day after with the best Rice Pudding that ever hit a pan. Carol has since told the story of how she put the rice pudding down and it looked like shark frenzy with the sharks holding spoons. Carol also got the caloric Medal of Honor recently when she fell on ice at our doorstep delivering lefsa. Carol crawled to the back door, and meekly knocked on the door. After we pulled the lefsa from her frozen hands we drug her inside. After several glasses of wine she made it home unassisted. In her honor a silver spoon was placed around her neck signed by the local fat man’s society.

An unusual event occurred in the pie contest this year. An award was given on the spot. It turned out to be the right decision. Ivy, a friend of Erin’s in Evergreen, cooked a pie with the combination of apple and cranberry. The pie was immediately declared the 2006 winner in every regard. It was a novel idea, the taste was supreme, and even in the presentation it had it all. Normally the judge requires contestants to bake entries twice to make sure it was not a fluke. Even this requirment was forgiven.

In the pasta contest JoAnne Kerns took the award with a shrimp pasta. Because of the obvious cooking talents coming from the Stanton area, the judges is considering breaking the contest down into township areas. The balance of cooking power has shifted considerably since the Kerns Clan has let their abilities become public knowledge. Ray may force the judge to introduce a new category of Indian cooking, and I am not speaking about India either. Ray works with Buffalo, and has been know to make a mean Prairie Dog; it is similar to a corn dog, but involves a prairie dog with a stick coming from an unusual place.

Kathy Lundstrom probably knew she had a winner when she put the prime rib in the oven. She has won several years in a row. I hope she does not get over confidant. In a more minor category Kathy also took the homemade roll contest.

Bill Butcher’s son-in-law Dr. David Mack has mastered the grill. David faces few serious challengers. David can do pork, turkey, beef, or you name it. With his sarcasm he has roasted me several times. He says the results are uneatable. David practices psychiatry. If he would just cook for his patients and quit bugging them I am sure his cure rate would improve.

Best restaurant will go to the Vietnamese joint in Evergreen. The waiter there came over and asked if we wanted anything else. Three people asked for water. I think the waiter with his accent walked away saying “Three water”. However, I misunderstood him and thought he said “Free water”, to which I replied “That is sure a good deal”.

Now to the Mexican, I have a soft spot for fajitas. The soft spot weighs about forty pounds and is right over my belt. Fran took the Mexican with no problem using his fajita skills. Although others raved about the chilly he served with it, I cannot give it a real good review. Fran used way more gunpowder than was prudent. I dipped a match in it and the match lit. This is a sure indication of too many hot peppers.

In the Bar category Taylor Barns won with an unusual little thing that I don’t even have a name for. It was sort of like chocolate cheesecake with some berry flavor.

The lady at the library took the baklava contest.

Although I said Cissie was ineligible for this contest, she did win at the county fair for the best pig. She dressed me in my usual attire. My pants were falling down, my zipper was half way down, and my shirt was stained with the usual salad dressing stain. After she showed the judges my profile they asked how she did it. In her modest way she confessed that I would eat just about anything put in front of me. After prodding she acknowledged that when I became fussy her chicken fajitas never failed. Cissie also mentioned her recent Waldorf salad that helped with the bulk. 2007, let the cooking begin.

Commander insist some controls be moved to her side of car, after Blizzard trip.

New Years was spent with our friends in Jamestown. Getting there was one of the worst trips in recent memory. The road, and weather got worse every mile. When we finally got near our destinatioin you could not see the road at all. Only the reflector poles marking the sides of the road gave a clue that there was a road at all. How could you make this worse? Put the commander in the co-pilot seat. While concentrating as hard as possible, the commander would often give bizzare advice about how one should drive. Frequently she would tell me that the brake lights were on in the car in front of us. Apparently the commander was under the impression I was watching television. Her best remark was to suddenly say "There is a white car with no lights on". My brain panicked thinking she had spotted a stalled car ahead of us and we were about to crash. However, when I shouted where, she explained it was in the West bound lane of the interstate on which we were heading East, so it made no difference to us. I tried to explain how nice it would be when we were driving on instruments if she only gave me relevant information. While in Jamestown we had the car equipped with some controls on her side. She now has the brake and gas peddle. We are negotiating for the wheel. I am ready to give it up.

Greetings from the Eastern realm of the Kingdom

Oh, Lord Kadizzled, how well we remember when the photo was taken in the Harem room in Portland, how we groveled at the royal feet awaiting words of wisdom. And continued to wait and grovel and wait and grovel, but all that was forthcoming were bodily sounds not to be discussed among gentle people and refined company. At that time, none knew that the fount of wisdom would enter cyber space and become a blessing of unlimited reach to the planet.
For this we are eternally grateful.

We, mere peasants, greeted the New Year on the streets of Pittsburgh, huddled beside a burning fire with other peasants, having enjoyed a pleasant repast at the Rivers Club (where the other peasants are members and work with the personal trainer who does not believe that the lack of an ambition gland is fatal when mixed with sweat). We watched a parade of the Pots and Pans Brigade remembering how as a child Lord Kadizzle often was the most boisterous with the two gallon pot, hammering away for more soup for the masses. Lord Kadizzle was an expert with the wooden spoon, using it to transfer food to the mouth of the hungry or hitting an unsuspecting subject up the side of the head for insubordination. On other occasions the admirers would stand back as Lord Kadizzle would fire off a shotgun into the silence of the winter night to remind the lesser gods that the kingdom was still under his rule. Oh, what fond memories of young Kadizzle when perhaps he was still only a prince with great expectations, or was he born Lord of the kingdom ruling from birth in his lowly crib?

And the New Year. Ahhh, with great expectations, we fondly look forward to more tales of present and past adventures as the Commander patiently hikes by the side of her beloved. Being in the East adds such comfort in the realm. We at a distance can savor the trip without actually having to live it moment by moment.

God Bless Lord Kadizzle.

Featured in the photo above are Lord Kadizzle's two sisters, Suzie, and Louise, with her husband Ed in the middle. Princess Suzie rules over the Pricipality of Dallas, a small Kingdom granted to her by Lord Kadizzle in the Hill of West Virginia. In those parts she is known as the Dutchess of Dallas. Ed is the Earl of Mt. Lebenon, a small kindom near Pittsburgh. Louise is the Dutchess of the Dollar, which is the coinage minted by Ed for the Kingdom at large.



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