As Kurt has pointed out to me, people are dying everyday. Interesting. According to the CIA World Factbook something on the order of 155,000 people die each day worldwide. Our local paper reported the news today that Fred Travalena has died. If you don't know who Fred is, I assume you haven't watched enough of Hollywood Squares. Here's his photo, it may jog your memory. No help? Anyway, this is a comment that appeared in our local paper in response to the news of Travalena's death. It is from a woman named Christine.

Ed McMahon Farrah Fawcett Michael Jackson

Billy Mays Gale Storm Fred Travalena

I worked in the nursing field for 30 years, the saying was "they always die in 3's". I've been keeping track for years and its fairly accurate.

Unfortunately for Christine, it is not accurate at all. Since Ed McMahon cashed it in on June 23rd, until the 28th when poor Fred bought it, about 750,000 people died if the CIA is to be believed. Christine, like most of us can only name 6. The deaths in threes is an example of confirmation bias. Our brains are programed to confirm what we already believe. On Christine's list I see six names, but she sees two groups of threes. In addition she makes the logical fallacy of appeal to authority in her reference to her years of nursing. Nothing in being a nurse qualifies a person as an expert on demographics. That would be a demographer. Superstitions are interesting, though. Oh, Mrs. Sneed is a nurse and an expert on everything, but she is the exception. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky

The Merle Wayne Sneed organization and Mr. Sneed himself was distressed by the number of people who greeted the news of Billy Mays' death with the reaction, "Who's that again? Oh, him, ugh!" When it comes to dead celebrities and dead sort-of-celebrities it seems, if you ain't Michael Jackson, you ain't sh*t. Michael gets headlines, a public memorial, crazy people wailing over his star in Hollywood and all sorts of hoopla. Farah, Ed and Billy get zip dot squat. Many people were willing to overlook the fact that Jackson was a weirdo and had a unnatural fascination with kids, because he could sing and dance. Hang your kid out the window by one leg? Self destruct before the world's eyes? No problem as long as you can moonwalk. It's just sick. Celebrities who conduct themselves with some semblance of decency and dignity are relegated to the "Who, now?" wing of the museum of fan interest. Those stars of yesterday who had the misfortune to outlive their stardom, die unappreciated and forgotten. Saturday another unappreciated and forgotten celebrity died. Gale Storm, most famous for the 50s TV series' My Little Margie and The Gale Storm Show died at 86. As a boy, I would come home from school and watch reruns of those shows. I found Miss Storm to be quite fetching and a talented actress. Even those of us who still remember Gale's Storm's pioneering television work, forget that she was also a successful singer, after her work in the movies and television. Michael Jackson stood on the shoulders of earlier giants like Gale Storm to become the star he was. Did he ever acknowledge her, even a little? Hell no! Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky

Another legendary television pitchman is gone. Infomercial icon Billy Mays was found dead this morning at his Tampa, FL home. You may have already heard the news. Mays' death follows closely on the heels of another, albeit lesser-known television spokesman, Ed McMahon. McMahon died June 23rd at 113 years of age. Mrs. Sneed took the news rather hard, thinking it was the legendary slugger Willie Mays. When told it was Billy Mays, she said, "Oh, that guy. Hey, isn't Willie Mays already dead?" It is not clear what killed Mays, but he was involved in an airline mishap the day before his death. Evidently, during a rough landing on a US Airways flight Saturday, the overhead compartments jostled open and some thing or things struck Mays on the head. Mays told MyFox Tampa Bay, "It hit me on the head, but I got a hard head." Maybe not hard enough, Billy, maybe not hard enough. US Airways spokesperson, Linda Buckholder said that the airline is sorry for this tragedy, but added that Mays left the plane under his own power and she categorically denied that the airline was in anyway responsible for his death. "He left here okay and whatever he may have bumped into after that is on him, not us. How do we know what know what he might have done last evening? He might have fallen out of bed, slipped in the shower or whatever. Besides the other 90 people on that flight are fine." Watch the whole last Mays interview here, courtesy of the Fox affiliate in Tampa. Around Hooterville the news of Mays' death stunned the citizenry. Many people flocked to a hastily arranged memorial service in a local park. People shared their reflections about Mays and his career. Citizen Dave T. said, "This is crazy. First the Shamwow guy gets put into the hospital. Now this. He should have sought medical attention if his head was hit. All sorts of delayed things can happen." Like being dead, Dave. Billy was the Shamwow guy, dude. Ed C. thought Mays' death demonstrated a well-known fact. "Things always happen in threes. Ever notice that? Ed McMahon, Michael Jackson, Farah Fawcett and now Billy. It sucks, but it's true." How can you argue wth that? Jim C. took a more spiritual tact saying, "Heaven will now be a little cleaner." Let's hope so. And then there was Phil P. who offered, "Well, now I'm glad I didn't write that letter telling him how I hated his shouting! High-energy, my foot. All he could do was shout and it was extremely irritating. I won't miss that for a minute." For the record, Billy Mays never said an unkind word about you Phil. Pietro R. weighed in with this, "Some sort of Hollywood Jim Jones KoolAid thing going on." Keep taking the meds, Pietro. Merle Sneed commented, "All in all Billy Mays seemed like a nice man. Such a loss." And it is. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky

At 1847 local time, Michael Jackson remains dead. Arizona schools were on the minds of the Supreme Court yesterday. They issued two ruling in cases that originated in our fair state. Generally speaking, if anything that reaches the high court originated in Arizona, you can count on it being fairly odd. In the case of the Safford Unified School District #1 v. Redding, the court ruled on the legality of the strip search of a 13-year old middle school student by Safford school officials. Safford is a small town in Southeast Arizona, made most famous by the Albert Brooks movie, Lost In America. Safford is the place where Brooks and Julie Haggerty finally decide that returning to their old lives isn't such a bad idea. Safford student, Savana Redding was accused by another student of possessing Ibuprofen and Naproxen, the active ingredient in Aleve, at school. Miss Redding denied the allegation when questioned. School officials searched her clothing and then ordered her to strip to her undies and pull on the elastic bands so that anything hidden in her drawers, might fall out. The search found no contraband on her person. In case you think I made this up, check for yourself here. Why we need SCOTUS to sort this out is a mystery to me. Any right-thinking person should be able to see the constitutional violation in this. The court relied on the fact that the drugs in question are legal and relatively benign in making its ruling. I don't care if she had a thermonuclear device in her skivvies, strip searching a 13-year old at school is way over the line, especially if the school administration is doing the searching. This zero-tolerance nonsense is for the birds. In the second case, Horne v. Flores, a group of parents in the Nogales, AZ. school district sued the state contending that not enough taxpayer money was being spent to teach Spanish speakers English. The federal district judge, who presides right here in Hooterville, sided with the parents and not only ordered the state to pay more in the Nogales district, but ordered it to pay more in all districts in the state. In this case the court voided that lower court ruling basically saying the the lower court judge should have gathered some facts about the other districts before summarily ruling that the state needed to provide more money to every district. One last bit of educational news from here in Hooterville. The superintendent of schools for one of the upscale districts, The Tanque Verde School District, was arrested by the ICE this past week. It seems he signed up for an excursion to Mexico where he hoped to have sex, or as his enrollment form called it "relaxed intimacy" with a 13-year old boy. He was arrested trying to enter Mexico, but has pleaded not guilty. Unfortunately for Mr. Albert Thomas "Tom" Rogers, the FBI orchestrated the "tour" in order to catch guys like him. Mr. Rogers remains in the slammer in Yuma, AZ, being held without bail. He did do the right thing and resign his post. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky

Poor Farah Fawcett had the misfortune to die on the same day as Michael Jackson. She becomes the, "oh, yeah and..." in conversations all over the country. I was never a Michael Jackson fan, but then again, I was never a Farah Fawcett fan either. In fact, I've never seen a moment of Charlies Angels. Thriller? Never listened to it until today. After their respective big successes in the seventies and eighties, they went in different directions; Fawcett toward obscurity and Jackson to infamy. And yet Jackson had a strong following despite all his troubles, which says a lot about pop culture, I suppose. The Kindle arrived today and I am just getting acquainted with the thing. It uses the Sprint network to communicate and it isn't as fast as a normal connection, so that takes some getting used to. We'll see how it works out. We had cool temps and a bit of rain today, so golf was pleasant. The Seafood King brought his brother and his dad along. they are visiting from Texas. The brother played golf and Dad, who is pushing 80 hard, walked along for awhile. Then he went back to the clubhouse and waited for us. And now my pet complaint of the day. No wait, I have a preliminary complaint before my actual complaint. AP ran a story about some some poor French tourists in New York who were involved in a police chase because their cabbie has operating illegally. My complaint is the the AP used the word "goodies" in the story.T he tourists were given some NY goodies as a goodwill gesture by the city. Just so everyone knows, I hate the words goodies and veggies. Just saying. Okay, the main complaint. I have an awfully hard time getting in a nap around here because the damn phone rings all the time. Seeing as how I have a mutual don't call policy with my few friends, it is incredible the number of times the phone rings in the course of an afternoon. I got a call from my doctor's office reminding me that I have an appointment Monday, a call from some 800 number, a call from Son Sneed's doctor and a couple of others I can' remember. How's a guy supposed to get his rest? Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky

I have irreparably offended a fellow blogger and he or she seems to have banished me from his or her blog. Or maybe taken the blog private altogether, or even deleted the blog. All I know is that I can no longer visit it. I feel terrible over this offense and I did issue an apology, but it was obviously too little, too late. The blogger in question is a wonderful storyteller and fine writer. I enjoyed reading his or her blog regularly. Now I just get a message telling me that the blog is protected. Without giving away too much, the post in question was eerily similar to a nationally syndicated column that I had read the day before. I was stunned by the similarity and couldn't quite figure out how to ask the author if it was a reprint that he or she forgot to credit or merely a coincidence of unlikely probability. I tried to compose a comment designed to tactfully ask the question. In the editing, rewriting and rethinking my question, I inadvertently sent what looked like an accusation of plagiarism. I immediately sent my apology for the directness of my blunt comment. The author responded that he or she had not read said article and the rest is history. So, present situation aside, here's a question. Does the taboo of plagiarism apply to blogs? Does it really matter? Okay, that's two questions. And should I have just kept my big mouth shut? Three. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky

For those who asked, my swell new Kindle is the Kindle 2. It is the in between model. The newest and swellest version, the Kindle DX, will be available later this week from Amazon and will be bigger than the one I chose. It is also $125 more. My rationale for the Kindle 2, aside from the additional expense, is that the beauty of a reading device is in its transportability. The biggest version begins to resemble a laptop in size and who wants to drag something like that around? I had a startling experience at the hardware store today. A customer who I did not recognize, walked by me and said, "It's a lovely day in Hooterville." That set me back a bit, since only my friends and family know about my blog. Maybe a coincidence? A minute later he stopped next to me and said, "Merle Wayne Sneed, I presume?" Turns out that he is a guy my niece has been dating for sometime and those wacky youngsters thought it would be a hoot to mess with old Merle. Good one. Can we talk about God for a moment? I'll begin with a story. Many, and I do mean many, years ago, Mrs. Sneed and I were in a group discussion of some sort and I offered the observation that "church" was primarily a social activity. This caused a guy named Mike to go into a state of complete meltdown. Mike was a nth generation, back East hardcore Catholic, for whom the Church was sacred in some vague sort of way. I'm betting he couldn't articulate what he thought the Church was, but it damn sure wasn't a social activity and he told me that in no uncertain terms. Fast forward to yesterday. I'm listening to an interview with a guy who is espousing the position that the Church is largely a social activity that brings people together and fulfills our basic need to be connected to other people. He talked about secular Jews and secular Christians who don't for a minute believe all the mumbo jumbo you hear in a most mainline congregations. They just enjoy the company of other people in that setting. As he said, it is important for people to care for others and be cared for by others. Plus people coming together can do a lot of good in the community. Of course the problem is that every church has rules that no one follows well enough to suit everyone else, so there's lots of drama going on. Plus you really have to suspend disbelief to buy into the mythology. So here's my thoughts. What if there were churches with no dogma, no guilt, no afterlife stuff, no higher authority and no God? Just a place where you could meet others of a like mind, learn something that is actually useful in real life, plus have a nice time? Bars don't count. Current skeptics and secular groups tend to exist to beat up on the concept of God and the various superstitions that accompany organized religion. Believe me, sitting through that discussion is as tedious as the worst of sermons, by the dullest of ministers. So, this might be a retirement gig. Pastor Merle Wayne Sneed, Church of the Here and Now. Our creed could be, "We could always do better, but we're doing okay." Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky

One last photo from Father's Day. Balloons, not my favorite thing. My dislike of balloons dates back to my younger, more nervous years. Steve hit it on the head, it is the danger that they will pop unexpectedly that bothered me. Anyway, there is excellent news on the Verizon Wireless front. The excellent news was not delivered without another dose of their ineptness, though. Many among you might wonder why I would be like a dog with a bone over $8.85? In fact, some have asked me that. I wish I could explain it better, but I just can't stand these companies doing stupid shit and expecting the customers to sort it out. Besides, sending me to collections over a few dollars is insane and I wanted them to admit it. So, that has become my mindset when dealing with buffoons. I may not always win, but you will know you've been in a fight. And now, back to the saga. I got a response to my strongly-worded email this morning, directing me to call Verizon at a different 800 number. When I called as instructed, I was redirected to the the same old voice response hell at the collection agency. So, I decided to take another run at the Verizon customer service number, seeing as how I was now doubly pissed off and all. To my surprise I got an actual thinking human, who put me in touch with someone who could fix the "sent to collection" situation. The guy I spoke to today said that Verizon should not have sent me to collection, since, and get this, I never owed them anyway. Plus, they have a policy of not sending less than $20 to collection. So, according to the latest, I'm in the clear once more. I've given up on the Miata. I did order the Kindle though. It will be here on Wednesday and I will be reading my little, okay giant, heart out. I think the Kindle will be great for killing the lunch period at work, too. I was forced into the Kindle purchase by Aiden's folks, who gave me an Amazon gift card for Father's Day, that went a long way toward paying for the thing. They included a note to shut up and buy it already. So, I did. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky

Life's Tragedy is that we get old to soon and wise too late. Benjamin Franklin Sunday was an all day celebration around here. Two parties with a break for a nap in between. I also got to watch the US Open golf tournament all day. I'm probably the only fan in America that openly roots against Tiger Woods, so I was happy to see him back in the pack for once. Not to say he might not still win when they finish tomorrow. Don't get me wrong, Tiger is the greatest golfer of my lifetime, but it keeps things interesting when someone else wins once in awhile. Aiden was engrossed in a Travelers Insurance commercial, during a break from golf . Miss Riley learned to stand up and cheer for her old grandpa. Okay, I inferred the cheering part. Noah came prepared with his own balloon. Did you know that Merle Wayne Sneed dislikes balloons? Noah and his folks leave Wednesday for a two plus week motor home trip. I will miss the little guy. Merle Wayne Sneed is a lucky guy. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky

It was back to work for me today. Everyone professed to have missed me, but some people didn't mean it. I can only say that I didn't miss work a bit. Isn't it funny how it takes a lot of living to figure out what is and isn't important? For years I worried about work while I was away from it. What I found was despite how important I thought I was, at the end of the day, I wasn't. I like it better knowing that. My battle with Verizon and their idiot collector continues. I got a robo phone call this morning from the collector. The recording said that if I was me, I should press one. Pressing one only caused the idiot machine to ask the same question again. And again and again and again. Then it said that it was sorry I was having problems and hung up. So, they can't be called, their website is bogus and when they call they hang up on themselves. I hope Verizon gets their $8.85 worth. Lastly, Mouse wondered if there were pictures of Me, Megan and Annie together? That would have been a good idea. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky

This is going to be a long post. I have several days of accumulated complaints. I'm back from my not so secret trip to a famous American city. I can't tell you which city, but I'll give a hint, it has L.A. as its initials. The highlight of the trip, by far, was meeting bloggers Megan and her sister, Annie, for dinner last night. We had the best time. But then, as Mrs. Sneed likes to say, we returned to our junkie lives. Why does aggravation arrive in waves, can anyone answer me that? First of all, we flew home on Southwest Airlines, which is usually, no, almost invariably, a pleasant experience. For those not acquainted with Southwest, they do not assign seats. Rather, you get a number in one of three boarding groups. A 1-60, B 1-60 or C 1 through however many seats are left. Today, we had B-10, 11 and 12. We should have been the 70th, 71st and 72nd passengers aboard a plane that seats 138. Unfortunately, LA was a connecting point on a flight from San Jose to Hooterville. So, when we boarded, there were through passengers already on. I walked all the way to the back of the plane looking for two unoccupied adjacent seats. Every row on both sides had one vacant or no vacant seats. It is the nature of travelers to take the window and the aisle, but leave the middle unoccupied. Finally I asked a friendly and professional flight attendant to help me because, while Mrs. Sneed and I could sit in non-adjacent seats, I had a nervous five-year-old in tow. Because Southwest only employs travel professionals, the professional flight attendant told me that she couldn't help me. She did make a half-assed attempt to ask the people in the last two rows to help. No one volunteered. Then, she shrugged her shoulders and said, "Sorry, there's nothing I can do". She also suggested that I should have preboarded with the families. Never mind that the guy at the gate wouldn't let us and that families get priority after 60 passengers have boarded. I was forced to announce in my loudest voice that I would place my nervous passenger in one of the open middle seats and that I would select the passengers who seemed least likely to be pleased by his presence. She found us two open seats a few seats apart. After we were seated, a guy next to Noah offered to switch with me and all ended well. Until we got to the parking garage and discovered that our car had a dead battery. It appears that someone left an inside light on for 5 days. Luckily, Noah's dad had come to pick him up at the airport and he saved us. Then, when I opened the accumulated mail at home, I found a collection letter from the dumb bastards at Verizon Wireless for $8.85, that I allegedly owe them from January 23rd. That's right, I was a Verizon customer for a single day in January. The account was set up in my name and the next day changed to Mrs. Sneed's name. Somehow in a single day, I managed to rack up almost nine bucks in charges. As outrageous as the charge is, it is more outrageous that the aforementioned dumb bastards didn't send me a bill for it. Instead the sent me a collection letter from their in-house collection outfit, IC System, Inc. Calling them proved to be futile. The website address they provided is a bad address and the dumb bastards at the regular Verizon number say they can't help. They can hang up on you though, as I found out. Apparently, the only way to pay them this $8.85 is to snail mail it. Dumb bastards, may be too mild a description. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky

It seems to me that this summer has not been as brutal as most others. Maybe it is because we have a swell new air conditioner or because I work inside at the hardware store or maybe that it really isn't as hot as it typically is. Our first official 100 degree day was on May 8th, a couple of weeks early. Even though we've had 16 days over 100 this season, it hasn't been oppressive. In fact June has been 5 to 10 degrees cooler than normal, thus far. I hate to leave this glorious climate at a time like this, but I have to undertake an important mission in a large national or international metropolitan area this coming week. I will be working undercover and posting will be difficult. Tomorrow morning a jet will pick me up and will fly me and my team to our destination. We will be met by a chauffeured vehicle for the final leg of our journey. I will also be meeting with one or two influential members of the blogging community, where I'm fairly certain important matters will be discussed and possibly adult beverages consumed. The agenda will be determined after we assess the local situation. We really won't know much until we have boots on the ground. I really have said too much already. Until I return, that is, if I return, take care and chat amongst yourselves. If all goes well, expect a dispatch no later than Thursday next. If you haven't heard from me by the 20th, assume the worst. I really must go now, they're watching me. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky

I don't own a Miata or a Kindle yet and if history is any guide, I likely won't for some time. I did call the guy about the Miata. I wanted to know it's mileage, because it is two years old. I don't want to buy a used car that someone drove the bejeezus out of. It has 29,500 miles. I made the mistake of mentioning that we bought a car from them once before and now they are calling me about scheduling a test drive. Salesmen!! A funny thing is happening on the way to taxing the crap out of the rich. I don't know if you remember things the way I do, but I was lead to believe that no one making under $250,000 would see a tax increase while President Obama was in office. I guess it depends on the definition of tx increase. Has anyone seen the Democrat idea to tax employer-provided health care benefits? I have to say that I'm not crazy about that idea. The guys at Tedious systems claim that they pay $7000 a year subsidizing my health insurance. That's 7 grand that some jackasses in Congress think I need to pay taxes on. For a guy like me, that translates into $1750 more a year in taxes. The idea behind this bogus idea is that people getting employer-provided health care benefits drive up the cost of health care for everyone, because they use it too much. The President, was against this swell idea when his was a candidate, but now he seems like he's wavering. And it isn't just the sluggos in Congress that are thinking of ways to stick it to the little people. Here in Hooterville, the City Council chickened out on the 2% renters tax, as predicted by me. Instead they are adding a new 2% tax on electricity, telephone services, gym memberships, tanning salons and some other stuff. The cost to pick up our garbage is going up a couple of bucks a month and the cost of water is too. In the meantime, our super swell new City Manager, sent two of the mean and nasty old City Manager's trusted lieutenants to work for some quasi-private development company, with the citizens of Hooterville picking up their salaries. This will only cost us $200,000 per year, plus benefits. Then, he hire a new guy for $140,000 to replace one of them and promoted three of his people, with generous raises. One of his underlings is our former police chief, who "retired" and was hired in the City Manager's office. A classic double-dipper. I'm sure he is imminently qualified. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky

Sometimes, I have to talk myself down off of a financial limb. This despite my reputation for being a tightwad, a skinflint or a miser, depending upon which of the Sneed family members you consult. I am currently pondering two purchases, with pondering being the operative word. First of all, I would like to buy a Kindle reader. Mostly because I think that it the way newspapers and other printed media is headed. Plus, I don't read so much anymore, because I am too busy (lazy) to go to the book store or the library. When I drag myself to either place, I find that I wander around hoping to find something that interests me. Mostly I never find it. It's kind of like Netflix. The movies I have sent to me, invariably disappoint me. On the other hand, the movies that I can watch instantly from Nexflix on my computer, are either to my liking or I just stop them and try something else. That's how I think Kindle will work. If I download a book and it sucks, I could just download another. Of course, parting with the $353 is the part where I'm stuck. For some reason, I can't make myself order the damn thing. Part two of my angst over stuff is more substantial. It involves this, a Miata convertible. The guy we bought Mrs. Sneed's Honda from has a 2007 low-mileage Miata convertible like this one, same color, for $16,000. There are about 100 good reasons why I don't need this car. I have a perfect good 9-year-old truck with 59,000 miles on it. I drive about 400 miles a month. I might need the money I blow on it, and on and on. The only good reason that I have for wanting it, is wanting it. I'm guessing I buy the Kindle before I get the convertible. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky

This is the word-for-word text of an obituary appearing in the Hooterville Daily Dish. It is a reprint of the news reports of the fire.

Fire, Children of the Hermosillo, Sonora (Featured Guest Book)	View/Sign Guest Book
Arizona Daily Star Monday, June 8, 2009 Edition: FINAL, Section: NEWS, Page A1 A day-care center fire Friday killed 42 babies, toddlers and other young children in the Sonoran capital of Hermosillo. The fire started at an adjoining tire and vehicle warehouse leased by the state government. It spread to the roof of the ABC Day Care, sending flames raining down on the children, an Hermosillo fire official said. When the fire broke out, an estimated 142 children, ranging in age from 6 months to 5 years, were in the day-care center along with six staffers. Authorities have said most victims died from smoke inhalation. Dozens of children remain hospitalized in Mexico and the United States, some in critical condition.

We have been following this story closely. Hermosillo is a couple of hundred miles due south of Hooterville. Could anything be more heartbreaking? Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky

More proof positive that time marches on. Miss Riley has learned to sit up. The hooligans are laughing uproariously because her brother is pretending to put horns on her. Tomorrow, both of the boys are spending the day with me. We plan to go bowling and then to meet my friends for our Monday lunch. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky

Fireworks over Hooterville. photo by JOSHUA TRUJILLO / Arizona Daily Star 1996 Democracy is the art and science of running the circus from the monkey cage. H. L. Mencken As regular readers know, I am a critic of our local government. Our city government is made up of people whose chief concern is to feel good about themselves. The beauty of this governing style is that every decision becomes the right decision. The latest dust up here in Hooterville is over our annual 4th of July fireworks display. The geniuses at City Hall decided to cancel the event to save $65,000. After all, times are tough and the City is broke. What the City didn't cancel is the real story. It didn't cancel about $300,000 in support for other events, events which benefit much smaller constituencies than does the fireworks display. Demographically speaking, Hooterville breaks down this way. 50% White, non-Hispanic. 40% Hispanic (overwhelmingly Mexican in origin) 5% Black 4% Native American. 1% something else. So, you can see that when the City canned the fireworks, but chose to give thousands to the Juneteenth celebration, it rubbed a lot of folks the wrong way. As did money for the Ceasar Chavez Day celebration, Fiesta Grande and the Waila Festival, a Native American dance festival. Each of these events is important and worthy of civic support. The point lost on our leaders is that when times are tough and cuts must be made, simply choosing the option that makes you feel good about yourself, isn't good enough. Our kindly old mayor tried to explain things this way; "...the city looked at the value of the fireworks and realized they only last for a couple minutes and it "all goes up at once." Presumably then, if the City spaced out the rockets a bit more, the fireworks display would have made the cut. Another councilperson added, "...the Fourth of July was targeted, rather than some of the more limited-appeal activities, because it's hard to pick between events." Someone failed to tell her that governing isn't always easy. She also went on to say, "Every one of these things I would argue strongly for," Trasoff said of the city-funded festivals. "There are very few I would argue against." Maybe it's just me, but that is the oddest quote. Trasoff is a former news reader. Without a script, she is inclined to say the strangest things. Anyway, several local companies and organizations stepped in to pony up the money, so the fireworks are back on. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky

There is in life only one moment and in eternity only one. It is so brief that it is represented by the fleeting of a luminous mote through the thin ray of sunlight--and it is visible but a fraction of a second. The moments that preceded it have been lived, are forgotten and are without value; the moments that have not been lived have no existence and will have no value except in the moment that each shall be lived. While you are asleep you are dead; and whether you stay dead an hour or a billion years the time to you is the same. - Mark Twain's Notebook, 1896 By 1896 Twain's once perfect life had come apart. He reflects on the folly of living for the past or for the future. Now is it and maybe all the it we get. A school mate of the older two Sneed children died suddenly a few days ago. He was 39 years old. Daughter Sneed was particularly hard hit by his death. Humans are thought to have evolved about 195,000 years ago. Our 80 years of life represents about a minute in the history of humanity. Not that much. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky

Mrs. Sneed gets Newsweek and I was happy to see them taking on that kook Oprah in the current issue. Oprah has become a champion of and a vehicle for the credulous masses, who believe that we would all be in perfect health, look fabulous and live forever were it not for big pharma and the medical establishment. I don't know why people want so desperately to believe in the unconventional and unproven. Our cleaning lady is going to Mexico for six weeks to seek treatment for a back ailment that US medical science cannot treat to her satisfaction. She evidently believes that some unapproved treatment in Mexico is just the ticket. Not to belabor this heat in Hooterville business or anything, but it is supposed to be 103 or 106 today, depending on whether you believe the weather service guys or the television weather guys. Either way, it is too hot for my tastes. Speaking of too hot, a woman came in the store yesterday sweating more than I've ever seen a woman sweat before. She was young, scantily clad, fit and breathing hard, more or less a 60-year-old guy's dream gal. Sweaty Woman was in need of a couple of keys and as luck would have it, I was making keys when she jogged in. She trotted up to the key counter, talking up a storm, as my old mom would have said. She was wearing an earpiece making it hard to know if she was singing along to music, talking to someone on the phone, talking to me or talking to imaginary people. This lady had been out running in the 100 degree sun, which made her a bit loopy in my estimation. A generous guess. My estimation proved to be spot on. She announced that the store smelled funny and that she didn't know how I could work in a place that smelled so bad. She plopped down her key, announced that she couldn't stay in the store, due to the smell and all and asked me to make two copies, which she would come back for in five minutes. Since I am a helpful sort, I told her that I would take her keys to the front register, so that she wouldn't have to come all the way to the back of the store to get them. I made the keys and took them to the register. I gave the cashier a description of the customer, and the cashiers pointed out the woman, now jogging in place in front. "Her?" About quitting time the cashier told me that the jogger never came in for the keys. I guess the smell was just too much for her. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky

It doesn't really look like the ugliest street in America, does it? Well, it's not, no more so than dozens of others across the country. Hooterville is a city that should not exist, at least in its current form. Along with Las Vegas and Phoenix, Hooterville is terribly ill-suited for the desert environment. The great Desert Southwest should be populated by widely-spaced towns and villages, not major metropolises. The great American love affair with the car is what made Hooterville and Phoenix what they are today. The car and the interstate highway system brought people here and made the towns into sprawling eyesores on the landscape. I think most of our environmental woes can be traced back to the car. Southern Arizona is a beautiful place, but Hooterville does not add to its beauty. And speaking of cars, the other night when we went to the movies, there was a commercial for Chevy's latest incarnation of the Camaro. I checked out prices on the web and it looks like Chevy dealers are asking $2000 over MSRP for their new Camaro. Strange behavior for guys begging the government to save them. Here are some answers to questions you have asked. The street is called Speedway because it was considered to be a quick way to go all the way from one end of Hooterville to the other, back in the day. This neighborhood, in all its glory, was here before our house. Our house was built on a vacant lot 14 years ago. We live a block off Speedway, back in a residential area. Speedway is another world to us. The little dry cleaner doesn't have a drive through. That car was simply parked in the shade of the building. In our store we have little CIA ear pieces. We can hear on another, but the customers can't hear us. And Barbara, I don't know how I stand it either. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky

We live on a cul-de-sac directly behind this bar. On the weekends there used to be overflow parking into the neighborhood by bar patrons, but not so much anymore. I'm not sure why. Speedway used to have many, many billboards, nowadays, there are fewer. The little yellow car advertises an auto parts place. A bus headed west to downtown. This window is at the Twist and Shout record store. Until I took the picture, I didn't know this place existed. A fairly typical Hooterville strip mall. this one is about 50% vacant. Catheys is an old-timey business, specializing in servicing and selling vacuum cleaners and sewing machines. People tend to throw away rather than repair these days. Another old-timey business is the radiator shop. It has been at this location for years. I'm not sure if the sign for Apex Banner and Sign right below is an advertisement or if they share space. This is a mural on the side of a flower shop. The previous owner of this once-thriving business nearly ruined it by using his signage to rant about George Bush, rather than concentrating on selling flowers. He sold out and the new owner is back to the flower business. This dry cleaning business has a tiny lot in between two restaurants. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky