It was too hot in the sun yesterday, maybe a reason why these two yellow chairs were unoccupied. Or, the owners were at work earning money to pay for the privilege of having an unobstructed view of the Pacific Ocean. Photo taken at Aptos, California.
With water a precious, expensive commodity on the north coast, these three iron cacti stand watch over zero water maintenance landscape. No further explanation required.
As expected the American Kennel Club’s latest list of top ten dog breeds did not include our three dogs. Our rescue dogs have peed on some of the most expensive properties in the world. They deserve something. So here they are in all their glory yesterday, wondering why they were snubbed again by the AKC.
Ivan(foreground) is a chow chow with a tinge of lion.
Molly (middle) is the closest to a pure breed with blonde border collie taking the lead.
Teddy(rear) is a fearless samoyed something dog always first to line up for dinner.
“At some point, and I want to be politically correct here, a hit man or woman has to retire if he or she is lucky enough to reach a ripe old age. At a time like this it is important to have a hobby…”
Dennis tapped the mike, then squinted as he tried to assess the audience’s mood. He usually had a smile and a light laugh by now. But tonight there was nothing but silence, so he went off script.
“Am I keeping you up, or is it that you didn’t like checking your gun at the door?”
He heard a laugh, one laugh.
“Who was that? I think it might have been the gentleman over there with the bulge in his vest pocket.”
His brother stood up with a very large bulge in his sport coat vest pocket.
“You must be Vinny?”
His brother was a fall back ploy in cases when Dennis’ opening was going flat, although it was doubtful that anyone in the audience knew Vinny’s true identity unless they caught the act at some other club when the laughs weren’t happening. So, Vinny played a great hit man and the laughs became roars on this night just as had been the case whenever Vinny stood up.
After the show the brothers sat in a dark corner of the lounge eating hamburgers and drinking scotch.
“Hey, I think we should put me in at the top of every show,” stated Vinny.
“Bro, you like the limelight don’t you?” asked Dennis.
“It helps. But keep your powder dry. I ‘ve got big plans for us.” Dennis studied his younger brother’s reaction. It was accepting, but in a resentful way, he thought.
Later that night Vinny was behind the wheel of a late model sedan with Dennis in the passenger seat, eyes closed, but he was very much alert. He was ten years up on his little brother and reluctant to concede that Vinny got most of the laughs. When Dennis started out with lounge comedy, his brother was a goof-off in high school with no ambition beyond the next pool game and, he was by Dennis’ own admission, a great pool player. But that was 25 years ago. Now Dennis was having trouble remembering his lines. He needed Vinny more than ever, but to concede that he’d be admitting his career as a headliner was ending, if it hadn’t ended already.
“You want to drive, Bro?”
“Do I look like it,” responded Dennis, eyes still closed.
“Can I put on the radio?”
“Sure, kid, only nothing loud.”
Vinny didn’t see the tears sliding out of the corners of his brother’s eyes.
Maybe l let him jump in at the top. He’s a good kid and really good at playing a dumb tough guy. I’ll give him the news at the next motel.
Soft jazz from the car radio put Dennis to a dream sleep where he had a heart attack about a mile from The Comfort Zone Motel. He didn’t die, but his speech was slightly slurred. The car jolted to a halt on the gravel parking lot.
“I can talk,” yelled Dennis.
“Hey, goofy, what’s up?” asked Vinny.
“Okay, let’s start the gig with you at the top—you’re ready.”
Six months later Dennis and Vinny were a warm up act a major Vegas hotel.
(Fast Fiction every Sunday here and at http://twivelist.wordpress.com where there are over 200 quick reads.)
Balanced ocean rocks pop up every now and then along the coast. This attempt was one of the better ones by an unidentified artist. The Pacific Ocean is a stone’s throw away.
The Audubon Field Guide reports that golden-crowned sparrows forage under dense brush. These sparrows love our front yard since it is one big undergrowth of Carmel creeper. Took these shot yesterday right before the rain. Most of the sparrows were under the brush.
After cleaning out the flower on the right, this industrious honey bee moved to the next flower to complete filling its pollen sacs before returning to a hive somewhere by the Pacific Ocean.
We have a solar light that no longer works except if sunlight strikes it–the glass comes alive. It is fitting that the “broken” light is next to a metal spinner that no longer turns, instead, it gathers cobwebs. These items have become broken art.
The symmetry of a green sea urchin shell is one of nature’s perfect handprints. The are 950 species of this marine mammal invertebrate found all over in the world’s oceans.