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mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Oct 22, 2013 - 12:01am PT

"My ideel."
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Oct 22, 2013 - 10:56am PT


Hi and howdy doody, Tacoville.

Enjoy today is all I need say.

[Click to View YouTube Video]
zBrown

Ice climber
Brujo de La Playa
Oct 22, 2013 - 09:06pm PT
Not many folks cover Sunshine Superman, but Donny did get Jimmy Page in on the act and some guy called Royal Albert (apparently not related to Royal Robbins).

[Click to View YouTube Video]


mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Oct 22, 2013 - 10:11pm PT
Guest Editorial

RECOVERY DRAG: The Age of Cheats.

One day in the 1980s my father called to share some exciting news. A shot-putter on his track team—Dad was a high school athletic director—was breaking all the state records. “This kid spent the whole winter in the gym, lifting weights. Real dedication. A testament to hard work.” Then Dad paused and added, “He has a terrible temper. The coaches don’t know that to do with him.”

“That’s interesting,” I said. “Does he happen to have a lot of acne on his shoulders and back?”

“Yes,” Dad said. “How’d you know?”

“Steroids, Dad. The sudden bulk, the bad temper, the zits. Classic signs.”

Then Dad said something that betrayed the weak link in his optimistic and innocent 20th-C American attitude: “Our kids would never take steroids.”

I truly believe America is going through a bad patch that future historians may well call “The Age of Cheats.”

MLB was at a low ebb after the 1994 players’ strike. Then saviors appeared in the form of sluggers with the bodies of Greek gods: Mark McGwire, Sammy Sosa, Barry Bonds. The assault on the home-run records of Babe Ruth, Roger Maris and Hank Aaron began. America was hooked. But some inconvenient details were overlooked. Sosa was a former 165-pound rookie who weighed 220 pounds the year he banged out 66 homers, chasing McGwire’s 70. Bonds was the best natural athlete ever to play baseball. But the fast and graceful Bonds, who used to hit 40 home runs and steal 40 bases with exceptional agility when he weighed 185 pounds, suddenly bulked up to 230 pounds and could barely bend over to tie his shoes. His spirit turned mean. But he hit 73 home runs one year. And America loved it.

We also fell in love with a cyclist, Lance Armstrong, who beat cancer and won the Tour de France seven times. Armstrong claimed he was clean—and still does. But how many clean athletes pay a consulting doctor who was banned from sports in his native country, Italy (and recently from all Olympic sports in all countries)? The US Anti-doping Agency says Dr. Michele Ferrari advised Armstrong and teammates on how “to inject [banned oxygen-enhancer] EPO intravenously in order to avoid the drug showing up in a urine drug test.” The way one cheats in endurance sports is to boost the oxygen-carrying capacity of the blood. Drugs like EPO will do that as will blood transfusions. Armstrong may have some or all of his Tour de France titles stripped [a done deal—this piece was written for August, 2012, publication].

Cycling and Olympic sports are often cited as the dirtiest sports, but that’s only because pro team sports, abetted by their players’ unions, turn a blind eye. Does anyone seriously believe that NFL players are cleaner than, say, Olympic swimmers? To believe that is to believe that the arc of human evolution suddenly jumped the curve in the late 1980s, producing a race of 300-pound men able to leap tall buildings and run the 40-yard dash like a bullet.

As Go Sports...

Cheating in sports is but a single facet of the cheating that’s rampant today in everything from education to finance to government. The financial meltdown of 2008 was a bonfire of bad behavior on all sides. Fannie Mae is built on the lie that every American is capable of paying a mortgage. Mortgage lenders steered victims into loans they could never pay. But the victims were not all innocent. Many lied on loan applications, claiming incomes the never had.

President Obama wrote a biography based on fabrications, which he admitted to this year. The oddest of those lies concern the “girlfriend” he now says was a “compression” of real people. Even small lies reveal character.

[I, personally, have never heard of this allegation/confession. Feckin’ feds. Never a dull moment!]

A new and growing form of cheating is taking place in our high schools. During tests, particularly SATs, kids are popping speed and prescription drugs meant to treat attention-deficit disorder. Anything for an edge.

Make no mistake, our Age of Cheats is a sign of rot. The US government fudges its numbers (by way of the monetary printing press). Our pols call reduced growth rates “cuts in spending.” Our biggest banks take obscene risks and cry poor when they don’t work out. But we’ve risen above moral rot before. The US has transcended slavery and civil war, as well as periods of rampant corruption and paralyzing resentment.

Let’s hope the Age of Cheats is drawing to a close, because a full recovery won’t be possible until it’s over.
--Rich Karlgaard, Forbes Magazine, August 2012


[I ripped this magazine off from the VA Clinic. Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea culpa.]


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JshczTJaj70

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milli_Vanilli

“It’s not what you do, it’s what you get caught doing.”--A CHP officer on the Bay Bridge in 1977. (Too frequent lane changes—I coasted on that one.)

I know I’ve cheated---in my heart, anyhow. (Jimmy Carter famously got away with this, so I can, too, I feel.)

I have Fifth Amendment rights, however.

Plus, and this is the most important thing: I’ve never been caught!

And I admit to having watched and not called attention to Cowboy Larry’s gleeful and ebullient use of a “cheater stick” on the roof pitch of the South Face of Washington Column.

If you are gonna cheat, Washington is a fairly safe bet.

But I can’t take the guilt any longer, even though I refuse to be called a true hypocrite, just a real smart-ass.

I’m not sitting here on a velvet throne, laying down dictation. It’s up to you if you want the REAL DEAL or some dissatifying thrill that soon fades in your own mind, clouded by the guilt.

As the foul-mouthed parrot learned to say, “YOU know!”

Go for it, hang-dogs.
zBrown

Ice climber
Brujo de La Playa
Oct 22, 2013 - 11:16pm PT
Earl Clark (Mr. Universe and proprietor of World Gym) tried to recruit Leonard Sell into his steriod regimen back in 1962 in Chula Vista. The result, Lenny got more pussy than Ronnie Hawkins. Did either one cheat on his wife? Did either wife cheat on the body builder? Was Len Sell gay.

These are the questions that haunt our times.

Like the Naked City, there are millions of these stories, questions and answers.

[Click to View YouTube Video]


mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Oct 22, 2013 - 11:59pm PT
Calling all Cragmens!

I refuse to post that picture again tonight!

zBrown, don't you do it here, pull-ease!

mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Oct 23, 2013 - 12:02am PT
[Click to View YouTube Video]
zBrown

Ice climber
Brujo de La Playa
Oct 23, 2013 - 12:28am PT
A little known fact is that the HA phone prefix, as in HA 0-2020, is the short form of Hancock. For a good time and some steroids, call it.




Meanwhile. Failure to communicate.

mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Oct 23, 2013 - 12:35am PT
How trivel.

I hate to burst your bubble, but can't you do better than that?

Like the DD in Naval Hull Classification, which really means only "Destroyer."

And the Z classification is full of hot air, mostly.

Airships

ZMC: Airship Metal Clad
ZNN-G: G-Class Blimp
ZNN-J: J-Class Blimp
ZNN-L: L-Class Blimp
ZNP-K: K-Class Blimp
ZNP-M: M-Class Blimp
ZNP-N: N-Class Blimp
ZPG-3W: surveillance patrol blimp
ZR: Rigid Airship
ZRS: Rigid Airship Scout

The smoking lamp is lit.

The USS Handjob was the ship of choice for my bud and Merced Flame, Jack Meade. His buddy Lurch, a Wisconsonian, was my tripping partner on Saturdays in La Ciudad, its home port, when I was st TI.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/USS_Hancock_(CV-19);

A CV may be likened to a small, self-propelled, floating National City.

I am full of hot air. Blimps are filled with non-flammable gas, hydrogen, I guess I think I remember.

Don't put me in charge of flotation, OK, Chief?

There was a sailor who hung on the end of a blimp's rope a bit too long and the craft rose so quickly he could not safely let go and drop to the ground, and so he waited until he could no longer hold on.

This happened in La Jolla in the days of infamy.

And up in the SF Penisula there is this good story from 1942.

http://www.historiesmysteriesandstrangeness.com/2013/09/the-ghost-blimp-of-world-war-ii.html

Observe the change in airship hull classification from L to Z-whatever.
zBrown

Ice climber
Brujo de La Playa
Oct 23, 2013 - 12:38am PT


mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Oct 23, 2013 - 01:03am PT
EVERY picture tells a story.

STring them together and you have a big story.

The doctor, however, will not stay away, because THE DOCTOR NO LONGER CALLS AT YOUR HOUSE.

IT TAKES FOREVER TO GET TO SEE HIM IN THE OFFICE, TOO!

Nice story, zBrown!

See what you done done?

[Click to View YouTube Video]I wouldn't mention the fact that that was recorded in Canada, Toronto, to be specific, ordinarily. But nobody tells me what not to tell.

zBrown

Ice climber
Brujo de La Playa
Oct 23, 2013 - 11:10am PT
It's interesting to just apply your own stories to the photos while they rest. However, that last is identified as James Dean in New York.

On another front.

Dame dulces o te convierto en un hipopótamo!

Or as the lawyer said to the doctor, asked and answered.


Mexican children gather sweets for el día de los muertos, not for Halloween, so they're not 'trick-or-treating', even if they appear to be doing the same thing at pretty much the same time of year (if you follow...). Salen a pedir el muerto.

They chant (in Zacatecas, at least):

El muerto quiere camote
Si no se le cae el bigote
La viuda quiere una ayuda
Para su pobre criatura.

If you give them sweets, they then say:
Esta casa está bendita porque nos dieron comidita.

I've forgotten what they say if you don't give them anything (equivalent of 'trick').
zBrown

Ice climber
Brujo de La Playa
Oct 23, 2013 - 08:56pm PT

You talkin' to me?

mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Oct 24, 2013 - 04:36pm PT
Where did you dig up those black and whites, Mr. zBrown?

zBrown

Ice climber
Brujo de La Playa
Oct 24, 2013 - 05:19pm PT
I've been trying to figure that out myself. Mr. Mouse.

The James Dean with camera is ez, the others above are giving mew fits.

http://25.media.tumblr.com/WiihaJRTRmxdgm2qI41FQsDCo1_500.jpg

EDIT: Those photos were on a site with tons of historic photos which I have been unable to navigate back to. If a picture is worth a thousand words and I have access to tons of photos, how much will the book weigh?



mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Oct 24, 2013 - 07:53pm PT
If the mew fits, wear it.
zBrown

Ice climber
Brujo de La Playa
Oct 24, 2013 - 08:40pm PT
"mew", I believe, is the contracted form of "me and you", though it's also my mom's (married) initials.

meanwhile, not black and white




This photo was the main prize winner in Swiss Press Photo 2007. It was captured on the Aletsch Glacier to highlight the vulnerability of the melting glaciers. It was organized by Greenpeace in collaboration with a US artist Spencer Tunick, August 18, 2007.


So Hank Williams died when Emmylou was five, me too (me2? didn't die, but I was five). Even weirder, Sam Cooke died, one week before my (high school señor) birthday, at the Hacienda Motel at 9137 South Figueroa Street (down the road apiece from Gower Avenue, nee Street).

Still looking for someone who gets outa this world alive, or the corollary, is not gonna die.

[Click to View YouTube Video]
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Oct 25, 2013 - 01:15am PT
So, on that note, let me real-ate the sad news of Lem's passing, happened during Facelift, his face lifted to the Lord, washed in the blood, he was.

I visited with the mother of the Rev on the phone, hoping for better news, but it happens to the best of us and the rest of us.

Saw Jeff and Denny yesterdy, havin' been to Arch Rock, Cascades, and Crane Flat look-out.

Battery in the camera died. Nothing to get in the way of our re-hashing of our lives, our tales of woe, outright lies and wishes for the future.

Chicken dinner, eggs and taters and bacon and toast and jam for breakfast, a gift from Denny, even though today's her 60th birthday.

And I just got off the telephone with sister Lenna, turned 62 today and called to remind me it's her birthday, too, yeah!

They share the 24th of October, just like Bob shares his BD with me and Queen Victorinox.

I had a terrific journey these last couple days, beginning with an ALPINE START on Wednesday, going to El Portal with the early-morning commuters from Mariposa and the area. This is not recommended if what you as a driver is a quiet cruise in the early-pearly.

These guys know the road and run right up your butt, tail-gating shitheels is what they are, driving in their car, prolly late for work, or amped on coffee, thinking they are in a race.

"Fecking touron, outta my way!"

I used to be the same ass-wipe type. And they all passed me, with my permission. I could have gotten really pissed and done something like speeding up so the jerks might learn to respect the other drivers, but hey, they got jobs and families, so let them earn their bread, and know they'll either die or get wise driving so uppity-like.

And why make an unsafe, useless gesture in the dark? Pointless, futile, and not cool.

Let's see...Lenna's Lieback on Swan was done this date in '70 or '71, by Dennis Miller (the Millis) and the Mouse, so she would have been turning (you do the math--I've had too much white zin) and she was a young mother, married to a Mormon softball and golf nut who shot himself in the stomach over not being acceptable as a life partner for their daughter by the Bermingham elders, Boomer and Bobbye.

As the world turned into the future, who would have perdickted a divorce?

Mom.

He smoked POT!

HAPPY GIRTHDAY TO DENNY---start eating oatmeal!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO LENNY---keep on eating what you do, you loook FABULOUS, MAH-VELOUS, even, for a waitress at Woods Creek! They all got something to which they might aspire.

Love ya, sis!

(Lenna's a LURKER, so beware.)

Want to shout out to Khanom and Vicky, too. I almost thought I'd stop by to say high, but I was intent on the Rev's loss. Next time...and I'll call in advance, like polite folk.

For my dear sister Lenna, for dear Denny, and anyone who is a fan of Mr. Knot, there.

Dance, ya fools!

[Click to View YouTube Video]









mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Oct 25, 2013 - 01:45am PT
Tim Bermingham of the Senior Sarazen flight probably had the best day of anyone on Sunday. Bermingham, playing out of Jamestown, came out on top in his first ever tournament on tour and he won two skins worth a nice chunk of change. Bermingham’s enduring round of 80 was one better than Cupertino’s Lewis Kidd (81) and shot him to the top of the Senior Sarazen Order of Merit.

WAY!!!!

http://thegolfchannel.bluegolf.com/bluegolf/thegolfchannel14/event/thegolfchannel1477/recap.htm?r=11c6cd01-46a8-4798-ae5d-5d647e90b2bf

Tim, the fishing guide, has a lot of balls.

I'm tellin' ya, fish find HIM! They want to be stars on AnglerNet.

I know this cat that has ALL the episodes on CD.

http://www.facebook.com/tim.bermingham.7?fref=ts

Anyone who's serious about the Merced River needs to speak with Tim and my older bro, Mike. You think I like the river? I love the river.

These two depended on it's rich bounty for a major portion of their lifetimes.

I'm sort of like a passerby in comparison.

But I'm a better photographer, IMHO.

And neither of them climbs.

Check out the light on the trees on the top of the Lost Arrow, here.

MICE LIGHT IN OCTOBER.




mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Oct 25, 2013 - 02:04am PT
This set's for my li'l BC buddy, Big Mike.





Addiction is both a terrible and beautiful thing.

I want to do this with you when you return to Yosemite.

I managed it when young. I will spot you and e'en supply a top rope if you want one (you will).

Mike came from BC looking for crack.
When he finally found it, they told him,
"Go back. We're closed."
Mike got hosed.










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