Tuesday, April 20, 2021


 I was kind of thinking that Chip would get up out of that hospital bed and go back to his previous life. Part of me is still in shock that he didn't. When he wrote about being in that bed, how amazing it is, how it automatically adjusts to your weight and inflates and deflates so that you don't get bedsores and how the BP cuff is always on and how your pulse ox is always being read and how the Foley catheter is in place at all times that took me back to the five days I spent in CICU back in 2005. Based on that I figured they would make him right as rain and he would be back to cooking the food that he loved so dearly. I got up, went home, why didn't Chip? I guess there are many things I don't understand about medicine.

Anyway, those beds are way cool and ever since my stay in one I have wanted to get one for my house. I have a feeling they cost more than a Sealy Posturpedic.

One's personal medical history and one's family medical history play roles in all this. Just today I was recounting much of those histories to my own doc, told him how no male in my family has made it to age 73 yet, how all of my predecessors died, what carried them off this mortal coil and that got me to thinking about such things. Morbid, perhaps, but reality, nonetheless. Each and everyone of us reading this blog could tell stories about illnesses, close calls, NDEs, and so on. I know I could. So far no apparitions or spirits or angels or imps of any manner have showed up to usher me one direction or another. Of course, for an old dude such as myself to talk the rheumatiz or arther-itis is just annoying to everyone involved. Organ failure - been there, done that, but like so many things in life, timing is everything. Don't do that all at once. 

Today the doc told me no more salt. "No salt for you!". He must have gotten me confused with Trooper - that's a natural mistake, the resemblance is uncanny. So no more salt for me. So it goes. I am going to miss salt. Salt was one of my major food groups, along with water, bread and meat. Once again, I will adjust.

I am still out there, still trying to outrun the grim reaper, the doc said that I am probably better off running rather than not running, so I will keep doing that.

We have lost a valued member of our blog community. That time comes to us all. It would be nice if we could all leave as big an impression as Chip did - but he was truly exceptional.

One of my brothers drank himself to death.

I can see the Chatham county line from my house.

When they want to run some tests.

Play this one as they carry me away...

This is a bit more somber:

As the years have passed I have become the spitting image of Mr. Natural.

I don't know whether or not I concur, but that seems to sum up what I know.

Also, keep on truckin'.

WKRLEM: What would happen if Elmer Fudd owned Stop and Shop

Trooper York's Word of the Day


  1. serving or intended as an ornament; decorative.
    "an ornamental fountain"

           an oriental with big knockers.

RIP my friend

Many of you have posted moving comments about the passing of our friend Chip Ahoy. He was a one of a kind character and will be really missed by all of us..

When Lem first set up this blog Chip was a frequent commenter. When many of the original contributors went crawling back to pay homage to Mordor it resulted in  Chip became a contributor here. A vital one. So much so that Lem put him in charge when he had to step away the first time. Chip was a prolific poster. Sometimes posting up to three and four posts a day while still posting like crazy at his own blog. He never failed to be interesting by sharing his interests which I think are more accessible then mine. He would post about food, Egypt, his youth in Japan and of course his beloved pop up books. He never failed to be interesting.

Of course he could have a prickly personality at times as all of us here do. His posts began to mention his health issues and the effect it had on his everyday life which we can all relate to as we get older.  In the end as he got sicker he decided to leave. I can understand that as posting all the time can be a lot of pressure. It's not fun when you are not feeling well.

My favorite interaction with him was in a post back in the day when we were making fun of Joe Biden's pretend Catholicism. I posted some ridiculous comments like "Joe Biden is so Catholic that he thinks Padre Pio is when Tony Glynn takes a leak in the outfield." For some reason that struck his fancy and he posted about thirty or forty puns or jokes about obscure Catholic arcane that Joe Biden would screw up. One after another like a machine gun. It was a tour da force I tells ya and very funny.

I enjoyed Chip's post and valued his contribution. I considered him a great  internet friend if you know what I mean. I am sorry that I didn't get to tell him that. I did email him a few times since he left to ask how he was doing but he never responded. Which is fine. He had enough to deal with. I hope he realized how we all felt about him.

So long Chip. I bet you are showing St Peter how to make an avocado toast that you can turn into a pop up book. You will be missed.

Monday, April 19, 2021

On Clicks and Caladiums, In Memory of ChipAhoy,


The picture above portrays one of the real results of the many enthusiastic recommendations delivered by and received from ChipAhoy, during his time as a commenter, co-contributor and blog host at Levity.   

His recent death on April 1st, leaves those who appreciated him and the seemingly boundless bounty and overflow he offered, with a deep sense of loss.  And that sadness is accompanied by keen appreciation for the many unique contributions he made and the humor and creativity he revealed.   

I wish I could find and post another picture I recall that conveyed even more essence along with his desire to follow his interests, engage with life and make a difference that mattered; but I can't find it, so a description will have to do.  It was a photo he'd taken of the front of the tall tan colored apartment building where he lived in Denver that showed a green rectangle of verdant life filling up and spilling over the edge of a balcony situated in the middle of the building--the balcony that held the garden he'd planted (from seed and bulb) and tended outside his slider door.  It was the only spot of life and color on the face of the building, and it looked like an oasis of an abundance in the middle of a desert of sameness.  At the time I printed it off as a visual example of the positive difference one person can make when they follow their interests and heart.  

There was often a link at the bottom of his posts on the food blog he maintained, "Things Wot I Made Then Ate," that was labeled "magnificate to full glory".  And clicking on that link would lead to more story, pictures and description.  While I'm guessing magnificate to have been one of his words, it captures what could and often did happen through the many clicks that took place to connect with the pictures and stories, pop-ups  and animations, enthusiasms, opinions, and information he shared.  

Whatever rest or invitation the afterlife might hold, it’s my hope and belief the clicks of goodness realized through him and invested in on this side of things will continue to grow, invite wonder, and reveal glory.   I'm planning on planting more caladiums in the swan this summer, and may even use the word magnificate if I come on an occasion that calls for it.

Update:  Here it is!!  Chip's balcony garden,  Aug 20, 2017

Sunday, April 18, 2021

On Blog Connects, Considerations of Unfairness, Boundaries and Borders, Mentions of Heaven and Hell, and The Ways Things Go as Time Moves On


Under the way things go, coming across a mention a year ago at the Althouse blog of a book that had just been published prompted me to order a hard copy.  And that resulted in, How to be an Artist, by Jerry Saltz, arriving to reside in my art studio as part of a stack of books I randomly pick up to read before I begin painting.  It’s also how the photo a-TOP this post came to be here as part of my ongoing Considerations of Unfairness, stirred by a recent post on the subject at Levity.

On the Good Friday before Easter (and the Advent of the Second Great Comment Shutdown at the Motherblog), I happened to sit down in the afternoon (after reading TY’s post on Unfairness as the Word of the Day) to open the Saltz book to a chapter entitled, “Picasso and Matisse at the Border”. In doing so I was exposed to something I hadn’t seen before, which involved the two different approaches to borders revealed by those two artists in their paintings. In Saltz’s words, subjects in Picasso's paintings “don’t run off the canvas. His figures and faces aren’t cut off.  Almost every shape, body, plane, line, breast, anus, face, or form he painted fits within the four sides of the canvas.

His friend and rival, Henri Matisse followed no such classicism. In his paintings "legs and feet go off canvases, heads are cropped willy-nilly, elbows are cut off.  Patterns shoot right past the edges of his work.”

Also mentioned was the painter Eric Fisch (whose work I hadn’t seen before), who describes “heaven” and “hell” compositions like this: “In heaven compositions, things are orderly, homogeneous. Priority is given to the whole over the parts. Hell composition is marked by chaos; it’s emulsifying, broken, textural and it can veer to extremes.”

Curious as to what types of compositions Fischl put together and painted,  I looked him up on my phone to find numerous paintings of differently sized men and women in differently sized bathing gear, before landing on the painting posted at the head of this post.  And when I did, I sat there sort of stunned for a moment.  I felt intrigued and amazed, and a smile of wonder started to form as it dawned on me, I’d landed on an unusual and unique representation of unfairness that covered (and uncovered) a whole lot of ground!  Ground that extended beyond the more obvious young to old man comparisons, and the loss of standing, vitality, potency and naivete that life and time (as evidenced by the worn watch?) can bring.  

Painted in 2016, and entitled “Late America” that painting by Fischl was part of a collection supposedly done to invite awareness, or perhaps skewer or provoke a response regarding Trump- era Privilege.   Five years later, when looked at in light of what’s transpired to bring us to 2021, an even later view of America can be considered with a touch of irony .  Making me wonder what can be seen inside the border and what might be standing outside the border?  A female Secret Service agent?  A nippy dog?  A seemingly endless line of  undocumented immigrants awaiting for their chance to clip more hedges, straighten more pool chairs, or serve as paid-under-the-table care givers to children with teddy bears?

I had fun with this painting, enjoying the opportunity to consider the way one artistic representation can serve multiple purposes.  And I wondered, "What do others see happening?  What thoughts and/or feelings might this scene provoke or bring up today with regard to Late America in 2021?"  

Friday, April 16, 2021

WKRLXFM-side band with modulated amplitude

Kids these days can't even cut mask loose.

Or vice versa.

Champion Jack Dupree has expressed my mood precisely.

 King Curtis.

My Cajun roots showin'.

Coffee is for closers!

As you were, lads and lasses.

And upon review, damn, King Curtis sure could play. Did I mention DAMN!

Spring's Here

                             Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
                             Is hung with bloom along the bough,
                             And stands about the woodland ride
                             Wearing white for Eastertide.
                             Now, of my threescore years and ten,
                             Twenty will not come again,
                             And take from seventy springs a score,
                             It only leaves me fifty more.

                             And since to look at things in bloom
                             Fifty springs are little room,
                             About the woodlands I will go
                             To see the cherry hung with snow.

                             A.E. Housman, A Shropshire Lad, 1896


WKRLEM- Chickie said it was Aqualung (Official Music Video)

Thursday, April 15, 2021

Okay, I will take my own advice

 I read that my neighbor Bernie Madoff died. Aw, poor baby. He only stole billions in the largest Ponzi scheme ever. Ponzi himself was probably thinking "I should have dreamed up a bigger scam!"

We are currently living under several scams, the stolen election, the Chink flu and others, such as Climate Catastrophe - what a bunch of bullshit that one is. In 4.5 billion years the climate of this planet has never stayed the same for long. But mindless mask wearing morons think that if they throw their money at politicians then every day will be perfect. My disdain for their idiocy knows no bounds. It's as if they all live in Madison - nothing else can explain that level of imbecility. 

But I have a better scam. Sure, Bernie got billions, the climate boys get trillions, but they need to buy into my new scheme - and this is going to cost quadrillions - make your checks out to cash, please.

If you just send me all of your money I will stop plate tectonics. Think of it - no more continents roaming willy-nilly all over the face of the planet, bumping into one another - nope - I will put an end to all of that random crap. It's going to require that everyone dig deep but think of the utopia that will result - no more volcanoes (I am looking at you St. Vincent and Iceland), no more earthquakes, no more mountain ranges getting loftier, no - the sea will remain where it is and never again will it split North America asunder from the Arctic Ocean to the Gulf of Mexico - that crap will not be permitted. And tsunamis - fugedaboudit!

So there you have it - the scam of all scams. I need some four color posters and maybe a Power Point slide show with bullet points, but I think this will be a winner, given the proper publicity.

Get in on the ground floor, before some sort of geologic uplift causes the ground floor to relocate to higher ground. 

I saw flars on my walkies

 That title alone should trigger the snowflakes.

Some of these were in my yard, some weren't.

This last one is a self portrait:

This here playin' is a purdy as a pitcher of a flar.

Trooper York's Word of the Day


  1. relating to or affecting cattle.
    "bovine tuberculosis"
  1. an animal of the cattle group, which also includes buffaloes and bisons.