Hello all.. my name is Faye. I’m writing MG’s post today.

Though you can’t tell by the way I look, I’m a chef who doesn’t cook.

I don’t dust or run the sweeper, other than that, I’m a good housekeeper.

I’ve never washed a dirty window, or had a mop or bucket in tow.

I don’t bother the webs spiders make. On birthdays I go buy the cake.

Dirty dishes I just toss. Queen Murdo Girl is my boss.

To her nothing is a travesty, as long as I say “Her Majesty.”

Just last week I threw a fit! As a matter of fact I almost quit!

You should see what she brought home. A funny looking dog she calls Jerome.

Jerome was frightened by what I said, and scurried to hide beneath the bed.

“Please stay Faye!” Murdo Girl pleaded. (She knows how much I’m needed.)

I’ll bet that poor, scared puppy cowers, when she brings home water towers.

I guess the worst thing that can happen is he might wake me when I’m nappin.

I suppose I can play it by ear, but if he sheds I’m out of here.

I’ve now decided he’s okay, so if she wants him he can stay

Hm! It seems I’m the only one in town, who doesn’t have a royal crown.

That won’t do and I forsee, that crown he wears will just fit me.

Whatever he has seen or heard, I know he won’t say a word.

I know what pleases Queens and Kings. I give them lots of bones and Bings.

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21

PLAYMATE

Moline, Illinois…submitted by Karen Lindquist

This lucky tower has a great view of a children’s playground. What fun to watch the kids slide down the slide or climb on the monkey bars. This has to be a one of a kind location and as in all things of value, location and uniqueness add to the pricetag. A little kid playing would have been nice.

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22

REED ALL ABOUT IT

Denison, Iowa…submitted by Eddie Jackson

I almost put this in my “drive-by” category, but it sits in Denison, Iowa , the home of Donna Reed, and I rather like the feathery clouds and different shades of browns in the photograph. The viewer’s eyes are eventually led to the image of the tower in the distance. I’m sure Donna would be proud of this representation of her town.

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23

PRETTY AS A PIMPLE

Rapid City, South Dakota…submitted by Sherri Miller

The lines of this photo would be perfect if not for the utility pole appearing to tower above the tower. Nevertheless, the colors are pure and sweet, and just look at the perfect feathery clouds floating in the sky at dusk. Thank you Sherri.

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24

ROCK MY WORLD

Rock Valley, Iowa…submitted by Jerry and Julie Elrod

This style of tower is built to last, and it can hold some water!  No one will have to guess the name of the proud town the water receptacle belongs to. Rock Valley makes a bold statement here with black capital lettering against a stark white background. Thanks Julie and Jerry for this great closeup shot.

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25

A TOWER BY ANY OTHER NAME IS JUST A TOWER

(Or Defiance for short)

Defiance, Iowa…submitted by Eddie Jackson

44.8 miles from Omaha, Nebraska.. (along the West branch of the West Nishnabotna River.) I’m not sure exactly what draws me to this photograph, but I think the rolling hill adds to the ambiance. I can almost see a horse drawn buggy along the road making it’s way to the top of the hill the dark tower sits atop. Blue skies and green grass seal the deal.

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26

HIGH HO SILVER

Camp Verde, Arizona (near Sedona),…submitted by Mary McNinch

Though I prefer the older styles, this water towers caught my eye because of the shiny silver set in a landscape of sagebrush and sand. The hills, cast in blue, appearing in the background almost seem like a mirage.

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27

LEAVE THE LIGHT ON

Eustace, Texas…submitted by Pat Davis

This tower named itself. So far, it’s the only one in my collection to have a lamp beside it, and it’s only the second one to boast the school mascot. I understand there is much to be proud of if you’re a Eustace, Bulldog. While the immediate landscape is somewhat drab, the unique design sends a welcoming message. Thanks Pat

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28

FRATERNAL TWINS

Somewhere in Northern Utah…submitted by Mary McNinch

Because I can’t figure out the exact location of the twinsies, this submission would not normally qualify for the collection, but I personally think that little flaw is offset because there are two of them, and I’m only counting them as one. They are out in the middle of nowhere and the colors are really pretty.

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29

MEET ME AT JUNCTION 513

Loan Oak, Oklahoma…submitted by Lewis Williams

Once again, a submission virtually named itself. Remember…any unique characteristic adds value to the piece. The unique design of the banner saves the tower from being too plain. Also you could tell someone, “meet me at Junction 513 by the water tower with a banner on it.” It would be a hard to miss landmark. It didn’t escape me that the photographer’s thumb is in the picture. I didn’t take value points off because I could always crop it out.

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30

Full of Blarney

Athens, Texas…submitted by Pat Davis

Athens, Texas is the home of the hamburger. (LOOK IT UP IT’S THE TRUTH.) This beauty would really be pricey if it had a good ol’ cheeseburger painted on it; anyway it looks like it’s Irish to me. It does have green lettering and the design is reminiscent of Ireland.

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This ends the third in a series of showings highlighting pieces from my Water Tower collection. I believe you will find this to be one of the best collections of it’s kind. Please continue snapping pictures of these beauties. There could be a prize for “Best of Show.”

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SAY CHUM..ARE YOU A WATER TOWER? I HAVE A COLLECTION

It’s Monday morning at the Brick House. Everything appears to be back to normal after the New Year’s Eve party that didn’t happen. Let me rephrase. It’s as normal as it ever gets around here. It seems the constituents had better things to do New Year’s Eve than sit around a cold old school house and eat beans and bacon. Oh well, the team/cabinet members were all here, and beans taste better the second day anyway.

Murdo Girl is at her desk preparing for the day. Every paper on her desk is a demand for money, and since she has no money, there is really nothing to do to prepare for the day. As she contemplates this, Yram Sicnarf walks into the Oblong Office.

MG: Well hello Yram. Dare I ask what you’re up to today? The New Year’s Eve debacle was rather unfortunate, but then again, what would a Brick House party be without a debacle or two?

Yram: Yeah, or three or four. I just stayed out of the way and took notes. Although it probably wasn’t the best night to do one of my crack up reports, I had to get my quota for the year. I set goals for myself you know. It’s real professional to do that. I turned it into the Coyote so they could get it in this week’s edition, but they gave it back to me.

MG: Because of content?

Yram: No, because it was fraught with misspelled words and incorrect punctuation. Some of the words I used didn’t mean what I thought they did, so it has to be corrected. It’s pretty depressing…guess I need to read the dictionary. I heard it’s one of those books you just can’t put down.

MG: Okay Yram, hand it over, let’s see what you’ve got.

New Years Eve at the Brick House

by stuff writer Yram Sicnarf

On December 31 of the year 1977 we had a spectacle party to sellabrate bringing in the New Year. (That’s why they call it a New Year’s Evening sellabration.) It was a real snoozer. Since there was not a televised means to watch a ball dropping finale, we put the Town Crier up on a ladder and gave her a ball to drop. She was supposed to wait until it struck midnight, but she dropped it early and it struck an inibrated guest who is usually inibrated, but functional. Now he’s no longer a functional inibrated guest. I guess you can’t even call him a guest, because he was forcefully, without his content, driven here by Lav, because she didn’t have enough gas to get him to be imprisoned where he normally sleeps off his stupid, or is it stupor?

,

Later that same evening, it was still 1977. Pico brought out a game of something or other. The name has failed me. It’s one where you can’t talk. You do whatever you think will make the people on your team guess what a card you pick says you are. They have to get it before the time is up. Everything went along fantastical until two very critical things happened.

Number one.. A I wanted to throw Sherri the Photographic drawer out of the game, because it was the census of everyone that she was cheating. That turned into a big bruhaha until MG (The Pres) said just because Sherri could draw better than everyone, and thought they were playing another game where you draw a picture; that would not be considered classical cheating. Finally that all got settled and Sherri was allowed to back in.

Number two.. DM being the competition guy he is, went a little too far with his pretense and took the ball that was dropped too soon, and set it on fire. You have probably already figured out he was trying to portend, “‘Goodness, Gracious, Great balls a Fire!” Just to refresh yourself, I believe it was a song written and sung by the late, great, and our very own, Jerry the bean counter. He is still alive so he must be late a lot.

Oh Goodness Gracious! I have misspoke and misswrit. Jerry the Bean Counter did not scribe or sing that song. It was Jerry Lee Lewis who is still alive, but always late, so I wasn’t too far off on what I sumerized. Sorry Jerry the BC if I offended you in anyway. I have no way of knowing if you’re late or on time, because we’ve never had as much as two beans to rub together, euphorically speaking, so we could buy a wall clock, which you can get for down to $5.00 at Gambles. It sure would have helped to know for sure what time to drop the ball. You know, through the fault of nobody, many good ideas don’t reach frutition.

The whole thing kinda reminded me of the humane Nativity we portrayed at the Court House, when Lav the star, fell out of the sky onto Jerry who was holding a burning lantern which fell on Pico. Somehow it involved a tumbleweed, but anyway the whole thing went up in a ball of smoke .

The lesson learned here is to not use fire in your skits and games.

So, that’s about it. Carol led us all in a rendition of ” Josie can you see?” Treason, who was wearing a festive, patriot shirt, handed out celeberatory bowls of beans and bacon to everybody.

THE END

MG: No wonder I left early. Who put out the fire Yram?

Yram: No one… it just had to burn itself out. It was in the Gym. In a way it was a good thing because your invitation song said we were going to have fireworks. Do you want me to go see if it’s all the way out MG?

I’m Murdo Girl’s brother Billy (33) and this is MY team. We had better things to do than eat beans and start fires.

Like almost everyone in the free world, I woke up New Years Day with a resolve to get into shape. I didn’t set the bar for myself too high because I think that is the reason why others who are lacking in self-discipline might fail. I decided my plan would be to exercise a few days a week and stop eating anything white. I couldn’t start right away because of our New Year’s trip to Galveston. Under those circumstances, I have no control over what other people feed me right? Don’t be saying that it’s not what, but how much I eat that counts. I don’t like to hear that nonsense because if the truth hurts, I wear it!

For years, I was so committed to fitness, I didn’t have to worry about a fitness resolution. That all ended a long time ago and shortly after that, I came to the end of the years when I could start over anytime and results would be quick. Now, there is no more elastic in the skin. The pores stay visible no matter how much the pore cleanser/shrinker stuff costs. The eyelids hang and the bags stay no matter how many cucumbers try to lift them up. All of those things don’t really bother me that much, but there is one thing that does, and I experienced it yesterday in the midst of a yoga class.

I was already humiliated enough when I discovered if I tried to stand straight with one foot against my calf, I would fall over. Then the instructor said to move the foot upward toward my knee while still balancing on the other foot, and continuing to pay attention to my breathing. She said we could use a block that she had placed beside us if we felt “unsteady”. I hope she didn’t notice that my eyes were crossed and I was very close to hyperventilating. With very little oxygen going to the brain, I couldn’t feel my arms, let alone remember if I was supposed to hold them out like airplane wings, or above my head. I cannot breath right when I am trying to look at the sky through my right arm while I make sure my fingers are spread wide and my eyes are actually closed. By this time, my friend and the instructor had stopped making eye contact with me anyway.

When I was supposed to have my eyes closed, I caught a glimpse of my feet. I looked at my right foot. Not bad, I thought. My nails were clipped and filed and I had painted them with a couple of coats of orange-ish colored polish. I was pleased since I hadn’t realized you did yoga without your shoes on. It really does pay to be prepared for anything. I couldn’t see my left foot yet because it was still trying to get to my knee.

When we were again seated on our mats, I saw my left foot. How in the world could I have forgotten to manicure the toenails on my left foot? Did the phone ring? Did the doorbell ring? Did I run out of time before I had to shower and dress for work? I don’t know!! Now what? If I stopped to put my shoes and socks back on, that might draw more attention to my dilemma, and later people would ask me why I decided to put my shoes on in the middle of the class? I guess I could have told them I got cold feet, which would have been true. Instead, I did my best to put it aside and continued to struggle through the remainder of the class. Even though I was sitting, I still felt like I was falling. During the drive home, I made a Thursday resolution to never let that happen again starting Thursday. Now for the remainder of my life my left foot will be on a different schedule than my right foot.

I remember a time when my Grandpa Sanderson was showing me something, and I noticed that his fingernails were flat. I didn’t make the connection between flat nails and aging. I just noticed. I don’t know when it happened to me, but I have flat fingernails too. Are you looking? There is nothing you can do about it.

This is me after running in the Boulder Bolder in Colorado in 1995. Suzanne Brost started with me, but by the time I came in, She was already halfway back to Murdo.

Kip believed he had something wrong with his skin because it bruises so easily, and it didn’t used to do that. His skin has become thin. I told him that happens as we age. He must have believed me, because he cancelled his appointment with the dermatologist.

The bottom line is, you cannot outrun mother nature. Even if you have everything lifted, tightened, tugged and sandpapered, you will not look young forever. Your knees will still sag and so will your bottom. It will be more difficult to stand on one foot, and getting up from the floor hurts. Your smile really will look like a frown turned upside down and you cannot live in dark shadows forever. You can whiten your teeth now unless you have a mouth full of crowned teeth like I do. Crowns don’t whiten, which is the only thing I have found negative about a crown.

I found this in some things Gus brought me when he was here for Christmas. Mom was much more modest than I am. I didn’t know she was a Murdo High School cheerleader for 3 years, and she won the Miss Murdo contest with a vote of 1499 to 710

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Don’t be laughing men. Take a look at yourself and you will look at others differently.

My mother said, “Mary, you will get to a certain age when you have to decide if you are going to be plump with a good face, or be slim with a lined and sunken face.” She said to stay plump and sit down a lot. Thanks my forever beautiful Mother. I’ll do my best, but I will go back to that yoga class..as soon as I can find the time for a mani-pedi. How much do they cost now anyway? I think I’ll have someone else do it.

I think I’m supposed to write about this today. The reason I think so is because lately, I have asked myself and others the question, “What made you think of that?” I go through tons of pictures looking for the ones I need for the blog. I always know which one I need, but finding it is another thing. This speaks more to my lack of organizational skills than anything else. I usually run across another photo or two that starts a chain of thought.

I saw this photo of an exercise class at the YMCA in Richardson, TX. I recalled taking the class years ago. The YMCA I belonged to wasn’t too far from the office where I worked, so some of my co-workers decided to join me for an aerobics class. The two in this photograph could each fill a very entertaining book, but for the purpose of this example, I am going to tell you a little about Jeri. (She’s the one in the red T-shirt. I’m in purple, and Kathleen, also a co-worker, is the red-haired lady to the far right.)

I should give a little history here.

When Kip was transferred to Texas, I was able to transfer to my company’s Dallas office, which helped a little as I contemplated the move. I doubted very seriously that I would like Texas. I loved Denver. A day or two after I started working in Dallas, two of my co-workers, Jeri and Barb, invited me to go to lunch with them. This started a routine that continued for many years.

Barb and Jeri always went to the mall, which was right across the street from the office. I assumed we would walk over there, but I was wrong. We got into Jeri’s very nice car and drove. We usually parked in the Dillard’s parking lot, because if we parked elsewhere, we didn’t remember we did, and we went to the Dillard’s parking lot first anyway. Then we had to backtrack. Finding the car at Dillard’s even proved to be a problem. Every time we walked out the door, Jeri would say, “Does anybody remember coming?”

The routine was to drive to the mall, and shop for 30 minutes before meeting somewhere in the food court, where we spent another 30 minutes eating. We didn’t count the drive over and back as part of our lunch hour. Jeri didn’t count her commute from home as part of her office hours either. Unlike the rest of us, her work-time started when she left her house. Nobody cared that she usually arrived at least 45 minutes late.

As Jeri approached her 50th birthday, certain things started to concern her. I remember walking by a lady sitting in the food court. We all observed that she had a very noticeable outline drawn around her lips. The fill-in color was not even close to the color of her carefully traced outline. When we sat down, Jeri had this horrified look on her face. She very dramatically said, “I will never wear lip-liner again!” I told Jeri it probably looked worse because of the fluorescent lighting in the mall, but she dismissed that explanation pretty quickly. A couple of days later, I walked into her cubicle and she had her compact mirror out. She said, “I am so disappointed in my lips. They haven’t aged well.” I made no comment.

On her 50th birthday, Jeri came to work wearing a sparkling, pink dress and some sort of headband with a pink feather attached. She looked like a cabaret singer from the 20’s. There was always a theme for her birthday parties, and they were always lots of fun. Each summer she and her husband Bill hosted Olympic games in their back yard. I hate to brag, but through the years, I took home several trophies and blue ribbons.

Each year our office participated in a chili cook- off. There were two parts to the competition. One was the chili and the other was the entertainment. Jeri had some influence over the chili recipe we used, but she and our manager B.J. always choreographed the entertainment.

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The year that stands out most in my mind was the year of the Marilyns. We all wore blond Marilyn Monroe wigs. An hour or so before we were to take the stage, we heard a high shrill voice calling, “Marilyns! Marilyns!.. we must rehearse!” When Jeri got excited, she always sounded like Julia Childs. We sang “Happy Birthday Mr. President,” just like Marilyn Monroe sang it to President Kennedy. Jeri became a little irritated when we were laughing so hard we couldn’t finish, but my memory tells me we won that year. We always took home a trophy for either the chili or the entertainment, or both. 

The Queen follows a chain of thought…or maybe it follows her.

“Oh yes, this reminds me of the time Charles got angry with his sister Ann for taking his biscuit. It happened years ago, yet he has never forgiven her Judge or is it Magistrate? I spend a lot of time in Murdo these days. It’s Judge in the States. Have you ever been to the States my lord? Anyway, to this day, Charles hides his biscuit behind his teacup. It really messed with Ann’s mind when he pressed charges. Then he… What Judge? Oh yes, I’m here to pardon Ann. I can do that can’t I Your Magistrate Judge? “

My brain is deader than a door nail today. Hmm, I thought door nail was one word, but spellcheck tells me no. I used to think spellcheck was two words, but spellcheck told me it’s one. Sometimes I get tired of spellcheck being so much smarter than I am. The only voice that makes me feel dumber than spellcheck is that of the GPS lady. If I decide to deviate 2 feet from the route Ms. GPS has me on, she gets very excited and says things like, “Make a U-turn in 400 feet!!!” At that point bells and whistles go off, and the screen starts going in circles and flashes, “Rerouting! Rerouting!” I know she’s thinking, “I gave you a route AND an alternate route, can’t you just pick one and stick to it??” I don’t like my every move put into question. In the first place, it’s rather unsettling to have inanimate objects telling me what to do all the time. Kip and I find ourselves whispering if we’re contemplating an unexpected stop. Is it really worth it if it gives the poor woman a coronary? Do I really have to go that badly? (Shh)

Truth be told, I’m worried that I can’t live without GPS or spellcheck. It all sounds like an example of a sick and twisted relationship doesn’t it? (According to spellcheck, I have misspelled 4 words so far.)

I think that I am pretty even-tempered. I don’t get ruffled too easily. I have tried to be really good-natured about all the age related teasing. (Spellcheck tried to change natured to matured.) I have listened to all of the advice of well-meaning people who seem to think it’s time for me to change my ways. This all became more of an issue when I reached the age of 65 last week.

I was standing behind a woman in line at the supermarket checkout yesterday. She was leafing through a health magazine. I guess she thought I needed some helpful suggestions because she said, “Do you know that regular exercise is the best thing you can do to promote longevity?” I said, “I’m over 65. Pushing 70 is exercise enough for me.” Then I added, “These Jelly donuts are for my 102 year old sister.”

I just spelled exercise incorrectly 3 times. I’m glad I finally paid attention. Spellcheck changed it to supersize, then to oversize. Sometimes it tells me, (not in so many words), “Hey, I got nothing for you.”

As far as GPS goes, I can be standing in Walmart and look at my phone to see what time it is, and there will be a message that says. “You are in the Walmart store in Gun Barrel City, Texas. Would you like to add a photo?” Why would I want a photo of myself standing in Walmart? What I would really like to know is why am I there? Please don’t tell me where I am unless you can tell me why.

The way I look at it, middle age is always 10 years older than whatever age I am. You are old if you add, “God willing” to every statement. One of these days I’m going to get brave and drive somewhere without the GPS lady. If I have a map, I know I’ll be able to figure it out, God willing.

For heaven’s sake, our ancestors lived without all the electronics hystrionics. (I spelled hystrionics wrong, but I like it better my way.) I carry so many devices and chargers everywhere I go, I look like I’m ready to climb a telephone pole. Do we even have telephone poles anymore?

I used to try to say growing up in Murdo did not prepare me for automation. Then someone provided me with a list of all the people who graduated from Murdo High School and went on to do things I can’t even pronounce. The list was 3 pages..front and back.

Oh, hello teachers who taught me in High School..Oh, hi John (Thune). Did I ever tell you about the time I won the coveted Miss Betty Crocker Homemaker of Tomorrow Award?

You were awarded what?

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 I do have something exciting to tell you about. A few days ago I received a package from Billy’s wife Liz. I will tell you more about the contents another time, but one of the items was the William Francis Plumbing and heating pink porcelain, toilet stool ashtray someone gave Billy several years ago. I only know of three of them still in existence. One belongs to my cousin Greg Miller and one of my Murdo Girl readers has one. There used to be bathtubs too, but I don’t know of any that have surfaced.

Liz said in her note to me that she knew how sentimental I was about such things, and Billy agreed that I should have this tangible reminder of days gone by. She said she knew I would welcome this treasure back into my life and that I would appreciate it and give it a great place of honor. I’m trying out a few places. Don’t you think the commode bowl displays my crown perfectly? I think Dad would like the idea, but I will try out a few other places before I decide.

Anyway

The degree of my success will be a moot point as soon as I get my water tower collection ready to show. Who doesn’t like viewing water towers? I’m sure “The Collection” will finally and forever put my name wherever they put the names of successful people.

The Tin Man..Valerie Halla..Location, somewhere in Northern California or Oregan. She doesn’t remember for sure

Leave the Light on..Pat Davis..Eustace, TX

The Coffee is on..Eddie Jackson.

Presho Pride..Sherri Miller..Presho, SD

Here is just a sampling of those submitted by Murdo Girl readers. If you highlight the photo you will see what I have named each of my beauties and who submitted the photo. I will include the locations as soon as I have them all alphabetized..With the help of spellcheck of course.

It got a little crazy here today..figuratively and literally. When you’re losing it, the Brick House is the best place to go right?

I thought we’d do a little reminiscing about all the places MG took us last year. Let’s see..was it 1978 or 2016? I guess it doesn’t matter. It was a whole lot of fun for this Murdo Girl.

Lav’s next. Yeah..she has to sing on the blog. She doesn’t know it yet, but I know she’ll do it. I’m not sure, but I think she can carry a tune.

I promise, this will be the last time for me this year..whatever year it is.

I gotta get some older pics in here

Main Street

I gotta have a pic of the Brick House. I heard they had a great party there New Years Eve. “Put on your good dress Queenies..Put that crown hat on your head.”

Homecoming

Mom and Gus with Bill, Liz,. Erin and Damon

Old Murdo High School

Just pretend Eddie and I are seniors

Elna and Billy

Valerie and me with Suzanne Brost

The unknowing accomplice

Old Highway 16

Wayne, Loretta, Ella, Helen, Jeff, Elna

Wayne Sanderson, and Jeff Sanderson

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We arrived home from Galveston just as darkness was creeping over the land. We packed up what we needed for the night, grabbed the dogs, (put a towel over the cat’s head so she wouldn’t freak out on the way to the house), locked up our rolling house, and settled back into the house that stays in one place. Then we took a deep breath just as you are now. Everything else can wait until tomorrow to be transferred.

We’re almost home girls

I said “Watch me Now” Lav!!

I was determined to wrap-up the rap everybody is holding my feet to the fire to perform, so I figured out a way. We are going to suffer through this rap if it’s the last thing I do as the self-appointed Murdo Girl. (That may be overstating the worst case scenario for me, so forget the “last thing I do as MG” part.) The only problem was, I didn’t bring any of my crowns in. I had packed every single one of them for the trip. You would think I would have had one laying around here somewhere, but I didn’t. I was happy to see my new T shirt in the mail. It has a crown on it so I forged ahead.

They call me Mellow Yellow..That’s my song

As you view this exceptional display of talent, try to remember this whole thing got started because I can’t sing. Val was trying to help me participate in the karaoke NYE/birthday party at the Jamaica RV park in Galveston. I did perform the rap along with 3 friends, but there was a recording snafu, and at a karaoke party, there are no rap do-overs. So here you go. I have performed.

THANK YOU

“Watch me Now”

Written by Valerie Halla and rapped by sometime rapper and full-time   Murdo Girl

This is Val/Lav..If you ever need a rap song, she writes them. She likes to hang out with the stars.

I hope all of you reading this post are enjoying this first day of a brand new year. 2016 was a year I will continue to relive as long as this, now 65-year-old brain will let me… and the best thing is, I won’t have to embellish one bit. It was magical because of all of you.

You might be wondering about the title of this post. When we got back to the RV last night, we turned on the TV to check out what was happening in New York. We watched the ball drop at 11:00 p.m. at the NYE/birthday party, but didn’t catch much of Mariah Carey’s performance. It sounds like she experienced a lip syncing snafu. Her comment as she walked off the stage was, “It doesn’t get any better than this.” I don’t think she meant it.

My experience, and later remarks, were heartfelt to say the least. The Moody Queens..let’s see, how can I say this? Well, let’s just say “Watch me Now” was right up there with the performance of the night. After a little bit of a rocky start, we finished on a “high note.” Everybody was watching except the cameraman.

I only stomped my feet and pouted for a little while. You have no idea how badly I wanted to show all of you the fun and funny rap song Cousin Val wrote for me. My team of volunteered singers were such good sports, and Ron Spahlinger, the real talent of the night, did his best to support our efforts. Thank you to Ron, his wife Barbara, Linda Goode and Bev Hartenbach. Bev and Linda each sang beautifully later in the evening.

All is not lost my friends. I sang again later too. I performed my old standby, “I’ve got Heartaches by the Number.” (An old Ray Price tune.) Two people recorded it for me and as soon as I get it downloaded, I will ready it for your enjoyment. You WILL enjoy it, or at least say you did okay?

Meanwhile, here are a few pictures of our glorious, fabulous, and fun New Years Eve and my 65th birthday celebration.

It’s all good and best of all, I’m now eligible for medicare. I hope you are having a great day with family and friends. We are going to enjoy a long walk on the beach followed by dinner with our camping family.

READY OR NOT, HERE I COME

WAIT!! I’M NOT READY

WATCH ME NOW…

NOW WE’RE HAVING FUN…WE CAN GET DOWN WITH THE GROOVE IF SOMEBODY HELPS US GET BACK UP!!

THANKS GIRLS, FRIENDS AT HOME, AND BACK HOME, FOR THE BEST TIME EVER AND FOR HELPING ME “MAKE IT THROUGH THE NIGHT.”

THANKS KIP FOR GIVING ME THE GOODLIFE

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Heartaches by the number, sung by Murdo Girl. There was a lot of background noise. Apparently some weren’t impressed. They talked amongst each other and took the opportunity to visit the restroom.