The Rat Race

Thumbing through a magazine recently, I came across the phrase 'the rat race'.  The synapses fired: Bingo!  Got out my scissors and cut it out of the magazine.  I had been casting about for a theme for a new painting, a semi-abstract, nighttime, cityscape collage.  I wanted the painting to mean something, or say something, or ......... something.  Something more than just random pieces of stuff glued to canvas - plus a mess of paint, of course.  Rat race equals city in my mind because my corporate years were spent in large city office buildings - and airplanes, rental cars and hotels.

The Rat Race

Acrylic Collage on Canvas

18" x 24"

20 pieces of paper, mostly single words, are glued to the canvas.  Several are easily discernible, even in the small photo, above.  It's a 'come hither' thing, though: the closer you get, the more words you see.  The Dilbert cartoon in the lower right is the bait. 

I'm finally getting into semi-abstract mode but it's a struggle.  Gotta keep mentally slapping myself upside the head and pushing myself away from the details.  I'm not alone in this struggle: "It took me four years to paint like Raphael, but a lifetime to paint like a child."  Pablo Picasso

BTW, ever read the definition of synapse?  Didn't think so.  Okay, gonna put you in the know, big time.  Warning: reading this on a full stomach is likely to cause indigestion and nausea, in addition to the common side effects of vertigo and disorientation.  Here you go:

Synapse:  a region where nerve impulses are transmitted and received, encompassing the axon 
terminal of a neuron that releases neurotransmitters in response to an impulse, an 
extremely small gap across which the neurotransmitters travel, and the adjacent 
membrane of an axon, dendrite, or muscle or gland cell with the appropriate receptor
 molecules for picking up the neurotransmitters.

Turds of Mystery

Why are mice having parties on the tile just outside our front door?  Several times a month we find several mouse-sized turds there, and, occasionally, we notice a few insect body parts as well, wings and legs.  This has been going on for some time.

The crime scene 

Recently, the pest control guy was here to do the annual termite inspection.  I told him about the mystery turds, asked him what he thought was going on.  "Bats," said he.  Bats?  Really?  Okay, yeah, that makes more sense than mice taking dumps in our entry but nowhere else that I've noticed. Besides, mice aren't known for their ability to leap into the air and catch flying insects.

I thought bats flew around at night catching bugs, snarfing them up on the wing, and when they had their fill, or got tired or dawn rolled around - whichever came first - they returned home and slept all day.  Is our entryway 'home'?  Never saw any bats hanging out (the original hanger outers) there in the daytime - nor the nighttime for that matter.  I monitored the area for several days and nights. Nada.  Nary a bat did I see.  However, evidence continued to pile up.  So to speak.

Apparently, the bats were using the entryway the same way I used to use a public park near my office.  During nice weather, I'd take by brown bag lunch outside and consume it on a park bench.  Well........, not exactly the same way: I didn't crap on the bench after lunch.

It's 2 AM.  Ding and Wom, bat siblings, have been on the fly since dusk.  Ding squeaks, "Hey Wom, I'm beat!  What say we each grab a large bug, head on over to Mike's, have a leisurely snack and hang out awhile"  Wom: "Sounds great, Ding!  I have to take a crap anyway - and it's always fun to do it at Mike's, really pisses him off.  See ya there."

Entryway ceiling with shiny ribbons hanging in corners.

Pest guy suggested hanging shiny objects from the entryway ceiling, said it was an effective bat repellent.  So, yesterday, I tacked up some shiny black and silver curly ribbons, one in each corner of the ceiling (and scraped the bat guano off of the upper stucco walls while I was on the ladder).  I'm thinking I should add another shiny hanger from the light.  We'll see.

Beep

It's 12:30 AM, been asleep for 3 hours, something wakes me up.  Huh?  What?  I try to go back to sleep...........  Beep.  Shit!  Friggin smoke alarm.  Needs new battery.  Maybe I can sleep through it............  Beep............beep...........beep.  Nope, ain't gonna happen.  Trish is awake, too.  "I'll take care of it," I mumble, getting out of bed.

I get dressed, listen for the next beep to determine which one of the 6 usual suspects is the current offender, which turns out to be the one in Trish's sewing room.  I get the stepladder and a fresh 9 volt battery and install it.  No more beep.  But, I'm fully awake now so I turn on the coffee machine and do my usual wee-hours routine: email, online Scrabble, study my in-progress painting and determine next steps.

Smoke alarms have saved many lives I suppose, but man are they pain in the ass!  Besides being awakened by the beeps, the damned things go off whenever there's a tad bit of cooking smoke, making an incredibly loud and piercing noise, enough to wake the dead.

Dogs, with their sensitive hearing, really get nailed by the screeching.  They get traumatized and tremble like a bowl of jello being carried by a person with Parkinson's - or like the Ghost of Christmas Future just revealed that the world would run out of dog food next week.  It takes them nearly an hour to recover.  We solved the problem in the RV by simply removing the battery - but that wouldn't be a wise move in the house.

Several years ago, the state of Oregon added a statute to landlord/tenant law: all smoke alarms in residential rentals must have 10-year batteries.  The newer, long-life batteries are lithium; conventional alkaline batteries don't last nearly as long.  After changing out the bad battery, I recalled that OR statute, and decided to equip all 6 smoke alarms with lithium batteries.  Both Lowe's and Home Depot had them in stock at $6.50 each.  No beeps for 10 years.  Yes!

You're probably aware that lithium is used to treat numerous illnesses and mental conditions including bipolar, depression, anemia and anorexia.  However, I think medical lithium has a different formula than battery lithium, so if you're depressed, sucking on one of these batteries is unlikely to prove beneficial.  Nope, don't think you'd get a charge out of it.

I apologize for the screamingly obvious pun, tried to resist but just couldn't.

Hualapai

What's a Hualapai?  First and foremost, it's the name of a Native American tribe that lived in the mountains near Kingman, AZ.  They now live on a reservation several miles northwest of their original stomping grounds, in and around the village of Peach Springs.  The word Hualapai means 'people of the tall pines'.

It's also the name of a scenic mountain range near Kingman, AZ, and a county park that was partially built by the CCC in the 1930s.  And, it's the name of a lodge/restaurant that's located near the county park at an elevation of 6100'.  We had brunch at the restaurant yesterday.

The restaurant serves up a decent buffet brunch on Sundays

and they get a goodly crowd of diners.

Elk hang out near the restaurant.

After eating we strolled around, got within 25' of the elk.

They're used to people, didn't bat an eye.

Our excursion to The Hualapais was mainly inspired by curiosity about the campground.  Trish and I had planned to camp there just prior to our return to LHC last summer, but bagged it.  Cabin fever. There are 2 campground areas.  The older one is a wooded maze of narrow, sometimes steep, winding roads with several log and stone cabins, plus spots for tents and small RVs.  The newer area is essentially a gravel parking lot but it can handle larger RVs, has full hookups and great views of the surrounding mountains.  

The general store resides near the lodge.

It's the size of a single-bay garage and, generally speaking, doesn't live up to its name.

It has a few clothing items, cold drinks and ice cream, that's about it.

The Hualapais are the folks who own the Grand Canyon Skywalk, 

a cantilevered walkway that extends out over the cliffs.  It's located

towards the southwest end of the Park.  Here's a picture of it:

 http://www.grandcanyonwest.com/the-grand-canyon-skywalk/

Fess up: you thought Hualapai was a Hawaiian pineapple dessert, didn't ya?