is an easy to use, index web page listing links to hundreds of my original photos. Clicking the link
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The MW Review of Books is where I issue eloquent and frank book reviews the everyday reader can comprehend and use as a factor as to whether to purchase the book or not. Go figure, a book reviewer you can believe.
In the early 1970s my union warehouse job at the Revlon plant located on Lower Buckeye Road here in Phoenix, Arizona paid $3.23 an hour, and it was more money than I could spend. I bought my 1950 Desoto in the late 1960s for one hundred dollars cash. Also along that time I won an AHRA competition at Mel Larsen's Dragway near Whitman and was awarded a single, crisp, one hundred dollar bill. And when, on the way home, I went to spend it with my pals and the lovely Connie Boone, the manager (and I assume, currency expert) of the Bob's Big Boy was called over to examine the bill before I could spend it.
Also, gasoline in the early 70s was somewhere around twenty five cents a gallon. So, the other night, when I saw this total on a gas pump, I was slightly taken aback. And yes, I am quite aware of the effects of inflation. For example, my mentioned $3.23 an hour in today's money would be somewhere over $13.67.
One of the few phone numbers with its own blog page 800 575-0517. Apparently hundreds of people have been getting calls from this same number only to pick it up and hear nothing. Mr.Wonderful has gotten his share.
Being simply an 'empty shirt' to my boss, and my corporation, my pleas to repair the dome light in my patrol vehicle, used from 10am until 6pm, (when the sun is not visible) were ignored. However, your Mr.Wonderful came up with his own solution. As Jesus said, "Don't hide your Maglite under a bushel."
Out in my grocery store parking lot on Cave Creek Road this morning, being it is AM, and not PM, I don't have to fret about dodging bullets flying from the barrel-end of a machine pistol held by an Illegal Alien running on meth and cerveza. But that doesn't mean I am completely safe, here you can see me avoiding certain disaster.
With urban battles soon to break out in Phoenix, Arizona, with the Illegal Aliens and the members of the unbelievably greedy Greater Phoenix Chamber of Commerce behind one set of barriers, and the well-armed citizens behind the other, the elected sheriff of the 9,226 square mile Maricopa County, the honorable Joe Arpaio, proposes a new design of school bus (to keep the children of self-centered parents who would rather drive new cars, take vacations, attend professional sporting events and eat out three times a week) safe while they journey to and from their 'free' government schools.
Never a dull moment in Phoenix, Arizona, the fifth largest city in the United States. Here we see a fire engine headed west on Bell Road near Cave Creek Road. The star to the left is not on a collision course with planet Earth, but only the logo of a Carl's Jr. restaurant.
Setting my miniature SD200 Canon on self-timer I got this surreptitious photo of a quite healthy Fidel Castro at a Phoenix, Arizona, Borders book store. I wasn't sure it was him until he sauntered over and offered me a box of cigars for the photo. A box of Cuban cigars. I declined. Luckily I noticed Cuban Security Forces stationed outside the store (they all look like Che) and, using my intricate connections, was let out the back and escaped to spy and write another day.
Most of us imagine that former NBA players retire to a life of leisure, and many do, but some have to go back to the work-a-day world. Here is what happened when one community hired former NBA players to staff its fire department.
While on patrol this morning, little odd things kept happening, nothing to scare or upset me, just things that annoyed me, and I didn't really know why they annoyed me. Then it all came clear as I quickly drove by a fleeting object, made a u-turn, and came back to catch this (St.Patrick's Day) Leprechaun changing himself into a fire hydrant. They are sneaky little devils, and since the Arizona Powerball is over $200 million, I know I have a greater chance of winning that than catching this little guy and getting his pot of gold, so I let him be.
Coming home at 6:30am on Saturday, March 1st, 2008, my progress was again blocked by police activity on the corner of Union Hills Road and Bell Road in Phoenix, Arizona. Apparently the action at my favorite (see 'Cave Creek Cops' below) Circle K convenience store never ends.
Caught this UFO Wednesday morning southbound on I-17. UFO, in this case would refer to "Unidentified Freeway Object". I don't know why I'm always seeing these things, it's as if I were being targeting. I would feel different if I was swigging my tequila and enjoying my Terazosin & Wellbutrin cocktail, but that's not happening at 6:00am in the morning. So, I guess this is real.
People in and around Phoenix, Arizona, drive like morons, tailgate, and regularly exceed the posted speed limit by 15 mph and more, thinking they cannot be injured. Every now and then, their thinking is impacted by reality.
At seventy-five dollars, this is the highest fill-up price I've seen yet. Of course I'm sure the recipient was an Escalade XL that some ego-sucking, dumbass bought. A Cadillac Escalade rather than purchasing the identical vehicle badged as a GM Denali, or better yet, something a little smaller that might get better than 12 MPG? After all, how often do you need to carry nine passengers and accelerate from 0 to 60 in under 7 seconds? Well, outside of Baghdad, Iraq, or Stockton, California, that is?
No, come to think of it, this seventy-five dollars probably topped off the tank of an H2 Hummer. The truck made for men born without a penis. As I've articulated in the past, "H2 Hummer, How to say 'I'm an asshole', without opening your mouth."
Here's something you don't see everyday. Not an Injun, oops, "Native American", shopping at a store, hell Arizona has the largest Indian, oops, "Native American", reservations in the nation. What's odd is that they normally use smoke signals to send their greetings, not Hallmark.