Thursday, August 3, 2017

As the season wanes

It's cool and lovely this morning with a solid overcast. It doesn't yet feel autumnal -- and little wonder, it's only August 3! No, it feels more like a cool summer day, and those are anything but unknown in these parts.

We are well past summer solstice, with days growing shorter and nights longer. It's still summer and there will be plenty of hot weather to come, but those days are numbered. It'll be county fair soon, which usually means hot days, but sometimes means cool weather as well.

And that little train of thought dredged up an amusing memory...

Would have been nearly 50 years ago. It was county fair time, and the day of the Beef Show. Very sunny and very hot, and we beef showing youths were decked out in our finest non-faded blue jeans and short-sleeved, white, button-up shirts. I think everyone wore cowboy boots, and I know that everyone had their contestant number (printed on light, white cardboard) safety pinned to the back of their shirt. IIRC, most of the boys sported straw cowboy hats while most of the girls did without a hat. Other than the hats, the girls wore the same uniform.

Yes, those are sheeps, but I wanted to show the Titan I missile in the background.
Regarding the girls, their white shirts were rather thinnish, and a young lad couldn't help but notice that the girls all wore that mysterious brassiere contraption underneath. Well, I couldn't help but notice, being of an age to notice such things.

As the beef show came to a close a thunderstorm blew up unexpectedly and pounded the venue with cold, stinging rain. The temperature dropped from mid-90's to mid-60's almost instantaneously. It was pandemonius for a bit as the youngsters dragged their beeves to shelter.

Once my calf was safely tied up in the barn, I took a look around, and noticed with some satisfaction (and more than a little yearning) that for the girls, the combination of thin white cotton and their physiological reaction to cold and wet had made the view generally, er, delightful.

Well, on with the show.

I mentioned yesterday that my military background doesn't often come up in my day-to-day life.

But sometimes it does!

There was an Air Force convoy moving north on Highway 71. In this part of the world that means Minuteman III support. They may or may not have been moving a crowd pleaser.

I remember flying in Hueys on lovely summer days, looking down at the poor mortals toiling while I soared above, nearer to god, as it were. Now I look up and I remember.


  1. The looking up and remembering can be hard.

  2. More sounds of freedom. Thanks for the post and videos.

    Paul L. Quandt

  3. Hueys really don't sound like anything else.

    1. No they don't. That main rotor introduced a new sound to the world.