"Generating Some Thoughts!"

An Ad I created for Honda...

 A "Throwback Thursday" Day, y'all.

Two days ago, Tee and I had breakfast with our old friends from the "Gus" days. We hadn't spent a lot of time together over the last year, but we sure made up for that with a two hour plus visit at Covington's "Fat Spoon."

Just keep pouring the coffee, ma'am!

Of the many topics of conversation was hurricanes, past, present and in the near future. It was a "Clash" of discussions, that is, "should we stay or should we go" when the next one comes.

Then, if we stay, what kind of generator will suffice besides the Generac size behemoths. Linda wanted one that was easily portable, while Therese kicked around the possibility of a Generac.

All this talk brought to mind the many magazine ads I designed and comped up for Honda. I seemed to be hired frequently when a client needed an artist to make the mundane sexy. Okay, at least, interesting. I was pretty good at that.

I actually seduced myself into thinking I needed to buy a medium size generator. It would be good to have one when we lose our electricity which seemed to be occurring more frequently. So, I bought one in '05 after Hurricane Katrina and, at first, it seemed a good idea to protect my computers from current spikes and power fluctuations.

UPS units changed all that.

Then, I only frequently incorporated the generator to power my electric drill in the outdoors. Since I replaced that drill about ten years ago with the battery charged version, I've not used the generator in about, oh, ten years!

Linda's husband, James, spent most of life as an auto mechanic. In the process of repairing all things "four wheeled", James likes to tinker with other things. And, he's damn good at it.

"Hey, James, you wanna fix my Honda generator? Or better yet, buy the damn thing? Whad'dya think?

I kinda feel it in my bones that we will be leaving town come the next storm... Ha!

First cup a brewing!

Copyright 2022/Ben Bensen III

"Sometimes, The Mindless Is The Bestest!"

The Elusive Bird...

Good "Friday" Morning, all bodies!

Well, I reluctantly left the coffeehouse knowing that there was so many things I needed to do that I just didn't want to do. Like a buddy of mine, who decided to leave as I did, admitted he, too, was just procrastinating.

As I drove along the driveway, a small branch from one of the oaks, brushed along the roof of the car a bit more heavily than the day before... and the day before that, and the day before that.

"Okay, okay, I said to myself, that'll be the first thing I will tackle this morning!"

But, when I opened the car door, there was that bird song that some folks tell me belongs to a wood thrush... and maybe it is. I took out the pole mounted pruning saw and headed straight for that driveway branch, but the bird's call seemed to get closer and closer.

What IS that bird?

I can't miss an opportunity like this, I thought. I need vindication!

So, I headed back into the kitchen to grab the best of the three binoculars I own and headed back out to get a glimpse. Oh man, it was so close... so close as I carefully maneuvered my way into a shady position where I could comfortably hold up the binoculars and scan the mid morning sunlit trees.

At 10:30, I was already feeling the heat.

With my back up against a pine tree, I followed the song with every move from one branch to another, but never found the sound. Within ten minutes of my aerial pursuit, the treetops that surrounded me, became silent. The bird's warbling song was not gone, but migrated from one tree to another and every momentary peek I had following that noise produced one regular yardbird after another.

I snuck up onto some commotion in one of our blueberry bushes, only to see a female cardinal fly away with a big, ripe berry in her beak.

"Hey, Lady, I said, glad to be of a service to you!"

The bird call became distant, then, just above me. Then, to the left of me, then, to the right. There had to be more than just one "cheep, cheep, cheree!"

For over three summers now, from late Spring to early Fall, there's a vibe that I can hear, but can never see and maybe, for me, it is just not meant to be. So frustrating!

Seems like we, as a species, always have to find a solution, fix the problem, make all the pieces fit logically, have some sense of reasoning, attempt to explain or justify our existence, and maybe, to seek and inadvertently, destroy.

I don't know, but once again, after wasting about an hour chasing that sonic dream, maybe, just maybe, I'm better off allowing some mysteries to stay mysterious... and magical.

It was something to contemplate indoors, in the air conditioned studio, with a ginger ice tea. And, ya know, that hanging tree branch will still be there hanging tomorrow!

First cup!

Copyright 2022/ Ben Bensen III

 

"A Salvation Army Special"

Celebratin' a holiday... for some folks!

 Good "Salvation" Friday Morning, all bodies.

It's National Donut Day... Who knew?

The Salvation Army established National Donut Day in 1938 to honor The Salvation Army's 'donut lassies,' who made history when they risked their lives to raise spirits and fuel hope by serving thousands of soldiers during WWI, in part by delivering donuts and other sweet treats to those in the war.

In 1917, Salvation Army volunteers traveled to France and set up makeshift huts on the front lines where they provided essential goods and sweet treats to boost morale. The donut was then, and continues to be, a taste of home and a symbol of comfort for Americans, so says the promo by the Salvation Army today.

And, it just happens to fall on a First Friday Folsom Business and Community breakfast at Giddy Up. How fortuitous!

First free cup!

Copyright 2022/Ben Bensen III

"Such A Pleasant Surprise!"

Welcomed visitors...

 Good "WTF" Wednesday Morning, y'all.

"Therese, c'mon, we're gonna be... What the?"

Looking out the living room window, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It was a visit from a Canadian Goose couple and their Mallard sidekick grazing on, I guess, grass seeds. And, to think that I was gonna cut the grass later in the afternoon. I actually left the coffee shop early to fill up my gas containers with ethanol free gas in preparation.

If we get another visit like the surprise one we received this morning, it may be a while before I crank up the mower.

Such a special treat for us since we've lived here for over twenty years, we've never been able to attract any kind of waterfowl with our two ponds. Occasionally, we'd flush out a kingfisher or small green heron, but not much else. Just about every morning and evening the geese will honk and breeze in their "V" formation pass our property choosing better spots to graze.

About ten years ago or so, Tee succumbed to those cute little chicks and ducklings that are traditionally displayed around Easter at pet and local "feed and seed' stores and purchased two. She raised them to adulthood and enjoyed having their clowning around for over a year or so. The male, who we named, "Duckman" was ever as goofy as the cartoon character and Therese fell in love with him, his antics, and his protective ways.

He actually displayed such personality!

Seeing in the goose couple what we perceived to be an ever vigilant, protective male struttin' around the other two birds with his head raised up high perusing the landscape, reminded us of "Duckman."

When we had to leave, the birds were not at all fazed by our presence as we got into the car and headed out. All three waddled a bit more spritely to the front pond allowing us passage halfway down the driveway. Naturally, when we returned later in the day, the group was gone.

It will be interesting to see if they will return this morning, and if so, will they be towing along with them their sidekick? We're still a bit perplexed by the presence of that seeming confused male Mallard...

First cup, y'all...

Copyright 2022/ Ben Bensen III

"Double Oh Seven Styled Stuff"...

Shirt foundations

 Good Thursday Morning, all bodies.

Last Saturday, at the Scenic Rivers Gallery show, my friend, Peggy Usner, noticed that I was wearing a new shirt. I don't know how she knew that other than the fact that I haven't bought any shirts since my stay in Palm Springs with the American Society of Aviation Artists three years ago and had seen over time every shirt I ever owned.

"Did you buy a new shirt?" she asked.

"Yes, I did. Why?"

With a twinkle in her eye she said that I forgot to take a tag off. I froze. I froze because a few days earlier, I bought three or four shirts and none of them fit once I tried them on at home. Two of the four were on hangars and the other two were created by structural engineers intent on making the deconstruction most difficult.

And, of course, once the shirts were taken apart in order to expose hidden internal assumptions and be analyzed, it was nearly impossible to put back together again. The shirts never looked as good as they did all neatly packed firm and tight.

On one shirt, which I came close to buying, I confidently snapped the plastic line that held the last possible deterrent. I was so sure it would fit, but it didn't.

"You shouldn't have broken that seal," my wife belatedly commented.

"They won't take it back now even if you have the receipt," she said.

Well, I certainly wasn't gonna keep a shirt that I'm not gonna ever wear, I thought to myself.

"Maybe, I'll just donate it to some needy shirtless dude," I said.

While stuffing all the deconstructed parts to the shirts in the original bag it dawned on me that I could mend the plastic strap by heating a screwdriver and melting the two ends back together again.

It always worked in my model airplane building days when glue no longer worked to hold two broken pieces together. Oh, the tactics of a fashionably covert shopper.

Once the tricky operation was completed, I tugged at the plastic cord with the label attached and it held together perfectly. The proof of my handiwork would be vindicated at the return desk...

... or sent to jail for defrauding J.C. Penney.

So, with the tags securely intact, I carefully rebuilt the two shirts that I had originally stuffed back into the shopping bag. I rebuilt them to the best of my knowledge with stickers, pins, collar inserts, cardboard backing and tissue paper folding them ever so neatly and hiding the repaired labels so the cashier would not suspect a thing.

Sweating bullets as the cashier took the two shirts off the hangers and placed them aside, she took the receipt out of the bag and never even checked to see my "cloak and dagger" handiwork.

It was a bit of a tense moment when she looked me straight in the eye and then... handed me my refund. I thanked her and walked off looking back to see her take the bagged shirts and throw them in with the other returnables.

Double Oh Seven styled stuff, I tell ya!

Second cup...

Copyright/2022/Ben Bensen III

"What IS That Sound And Where Is It Coming From?"

 

Good Saturday Morning, all bodies.

S'been some pretty good weather, lately. The French Quarter Jazz Festival got lucky, for sure!

"Damn, what's that sound," I said to no one.

About a month or so ago, I borrowed a book from a friend that I started to read before we had to leave. It's not a great book and it is only about two hundred pages or so, but I'll be damned if I can stay focused on it.

I've always been amazed at my wife's ability to concentrate. When were first dating, I noticed that she did her college homework in the kitchen that had two or three brothers in and out looking for something to eat.

Amazing!

But, I can't be any where where there's the slightest bit of a distraction if I plan to understand one sentence from any book I am interested in reading. Guess that I've always been that way...

Wait... what's that noise?

Locked alone in my bedroom, I attempted to read my book. But, there was this low constant drone that I hadn't noticed before and I just couldn't continue to comprehend one page until I found out what the noise was and wearing it is coming from.

I found it somewhere between page 121 and 124. I don't remember a thing about those pages, but I found that what I was hearing was a timer that I had left on the lamp after we returned from our trip to California. I tried to ignore it, but could not.

It got disconnected!

I few nights later, after Therese went to bed, I sat down with a chardonnay that I had bruised with some ice cubes, and continued my perusal about why we draw. I think I got to, I don't know, page 126, when I heard a beep, beep, beep.

"What the hell is THAT?"

For the next twenty minutes, I attempted to ignore the sound. Beep, beep, beep. I finally got up to investigate our cell phones, and that wasn't it. I walked to the office. Surely, it must be the shedder or one of those battery back up systems that's supposed to protect one's computer from electrical spikes...

No, that wasn't it.

What IS that sound and where is it coming from?

I checked each and every room trying to determine the location.

Maybe it's those frogs that just love to croak at the moon this time of the night. Each species seems to have their own style. Beep, beep, beep!

The beep, beep, beep, seemed too insanely rhythmic and constant, but against my better judgement, I went outside anyway. We've got a frog or toad, can't tell which, that actually barks like a small dog. It sounds like a dog that trying to get someone's attention... Kind of a yelp!

I stood out there for a minute or two and still heard the beep, beep, beep. It obviously was not coming from my noisy amphibian friends.

I just knew that I'd never get another page read until I stopped the beep. By now, my glass of wine was more water than wine, so I moseyed over to the refrigerator to replenish my muse, and whad'dya know... there is was beeping loud and clear.

It was our new refrigerator telling me, all that time, that the freezer door was not completely shut. How thoughtful!

I shut the freezer door, put the wine glass in the sink, closed the book, turned the lights out and went to bed.

Sherlock Holmes got nothing on me... Ha!

Second cup!

Copyright 2022/Ben Bensen III

“Art Is Where You Find It”

 

Good "Easter weekend" Saturday Morning, all bodies.

"You mind the garlic bulbs in your crawfish," the young server at Pat's Seafood in Covington asked.

"No, I said, not at all... Why?"

"Well, some folks don't like garlic I guess, though I suspect they think they're getting gypped!"

"You mean they think you're replacing a crawfish or two with garlic?"

"Wow, I wonder what's the weight difference between half a bulb of garlic and one or two crawfish," I said.

"I don't know. With some customers, you just never know," she replied as she served up to me a ten pound bag of cooked mudbugs.

You know, file it under, “Art Is Where You Find It” along with crafts like wine cork fleur d'lis, painted oyster shells and decorated slate tiles ...

On the way out of the seafood store, just behind the bevy of cashiers, was what I'll call, “The BeerBottleCap Crab!”

I love how the artist stayed with the cap theme and didn’t try to solve the pincers and legs of the beast with some other easier solution. Upon closer inspection, staying with the theme of bottle tops, the artist bent and twisted the caps into the shapes needed to complete the entire art with the same materials… beer bottle caps!

"Happy Good Friday, sir," she said as I departed.

"'Tis the Season, right?" I replied.

First cup!

Copyright 2022/Ben Bensen III