Merry Christmas from Walden Pond

I am spending Christmas in the Boston area. Yesterday I walked the two mile trail around Walden Pond. Here, 152 years ago, Henry David Thoreau lived in small cabin and wrote his famous book Walden, where he discussed, among other things, his simple life there. "Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you've imagined. As you simplify your life, the laws of the universe will be simpler," he wrote. Today, virtually nothing remains of the cabin besides stone markers that outline where it once stood.

I took a photo of the cabin site with my cell phone camera. As I did, I noticed that I was receiving a broadband connection with the Verizon cell tower. I thought that if I had brought my laptop computer along with me I could sit on the ground inside Thoreau's cabin and write a little essay and then post it to the Internet right there and then using my high speed cell phone connection.

I wonder what Thoreau would think about that. I think he would either be horrified or impressed. But I really don't know.

Oh. . . by the way, if you want to stay at Walden Pond today you can hole up at the Thoreau Bed and Breakfast Inn.

Where's Clark Kent?

Okay. . . so where is Clark Kent? And where is Superman? They need a road, too.

Rockin' and Rollin' in Wal-Mart parking lots

Meet two guys who travel in an old black motorhome playing rock and roll in Wal-Mart parking lots. "We played at 30 so far," one of the guys explains, but he never says how many of them they were kicked out of. See them perform and listen as they explain their theories on life, fame and Wal-Mart. Then try to figure out what the heck they are saying, as you scratch your head thinking "Huh?" Hey, it's a weird world, what can I say? (it takes about 20 seconds for the video to start).

Ouch, ouch and ouch!

This is why when you drive a recreational vehicle that you must pay attention to details. Such as: how low is the bridge that you are about to go under? How low is the overhang on the gas station you are about to enter? And in this case, how low is the bar that you will need to fit under in order to proceed? Hopefully, you will never replicate the situation you see here.

Chipmunk invader

This little fellow invaded my campsite in the Lassen National Forest in Northern California. He was seeking crackers. I gave him a few bites. This was in the days before I became politically correct and quit feeding wild animals. But this guy was not wild at all. But, yeah, I should not have feed him. Sorry. Anyway, I put a cracker in the botton of my empty coffee mug, which I placed on my picnic table. It was a boring day. I was alone. This was the best entertainment. Anyway, I like this photo.

Fifteen cent burgers

Yes, there was a time when you could purchase a McDonald's hamburger for the grand price of 15 cents. I did it. I know. Then they went to 18 cents. I actually remember ordering lunch -- couple a' burgers and a Coke -- and giving a dollar bill in payment, and getting change back. Yup. True. And maybe you think I am old, so that this was a long time ago. Yeah, I'm sorta old, but not that old. It wasn't so long ago. But time flies, so what do I know?

A turkey with a certain something extra

Pictured is a turkey. But I have a picture of another turkey to show you that is perhaps 500 times more interesting. But if you are easily offended by fake sexual images, then do not look. In other words, if you are humor-less or cannot appreciate a great sight gag, then please move onto another web page. On the other hand, if you have a sense of humor and do not plan to write to me about how awful I am for telling you about this photograph, then please look here.

Video of full-time RVing family: Part One

Here is an excellent report from ABC TV's Nightline program about a young family that is living and traveling full-time in a motorhome. Here is part one of the two part series. Check back next week for the conclusion.

Two excellent things

Here are two excellent things. The first is licking a knife after you have used it to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The knife has both peanut butter and jelly on it, and when you lick it, it's a tasty treat. Maybe it's good, too, because it is a taste from your childhood. The other excellent thing is the smell at the instant you open a can of ground coffee. I don't experience this smell anymore because 10 years ago I moved to Seattle where it essentially illegal to buy coffee in a can. We have to buy beans and then grind them up. If you buy coffee in a can you must do so when your friends are not looking. It's kind of like buying pickled pigs feet: you don't want to be caught with it at the checkout counter.

My break into show business

This is where I broke into the entertainment business, in this little block buildling in Grass Valley, California. I was in high school. Inside was a 24-hour weather station for the then-new local cable TV franchise. A small black and white camera would automatically move left and right and then back, showing weather dials -- temperature and wind speed, plus the local time. At both ends were two slots where ads painted on card stock could be dropped in for local businesses. If you pulled one of those ads from the slot, the camera would look into a big empty space behind it. You could pause the camera there. That's what we did once a week for my very own TV show, "Spotlight on Teens." We would read news and conduct interviews. There was just the one camera, which was stationary during the show. One day I interviewed a guy name Tom Adams, who went to my high school. Everything was live, mind you, as there was no video tape then. Tom was very tall. I didn't know until later that his head was chopped off for the entire interview. One time the little studio flooded and we did our show in six inches of water. I never got to see the show because it was live. My guess is that maybe a dozen people watched. I got a phone call once from a viewer who told me it was a good show. That was the only time I ever got any feedback.

The rainmaking machine

This is my aunt and uncle, Frank and Linda, Woodbury. They live in Lindsay, Calif., which is in the central California valley south of Fresno. The device between them is a rainmaking machine. There are many such devices through the region. My aunt and uncle are paid $100 a year to host the device on their small ranch, where they also have orange trees, horses, dogs and llamas. When the climatic conditions are just right, the company that owns the machine phones them and tells them turn it on, which they then do. A propane tank heats up the rainmaking machine's tank, which then shoots fumes of some sort into the sky. The idea is stimulate clouds to drop their moisture rather than hold onto it. That's the theory, anyway.

Stupid RV design

Here is a picture of a overhead sleeping area in a Class C motorhome. Notice the placement of the bed. Notice that there's about three inches of clearance between the mattress and the bottom of the TV cabinet. If two adults were to sleep on this bed, the one on the outside could be no taller than about five feet unless they had baby-sized feet to slide underneath the TV cabinet. This is an example of totally stupid RV design. Someone got paid to design this. Someone approved the design. And probably someone bought this RV at the show where I photographed it. The moral to this story is that when you buy an RV be sure to look at every little thing. Do not assume that the people who built it knew what they were doing.

Alien in disguise

I do not know where I saw this telescope. It was at a tourist place, that's all I can tell you. But do you think it looks like an alien? I do. I waited for it to say, "Take me to your leader?" But it never did.

Smokes at the health food store

A few years ago I was grabbing breakfast at a cafe in Prescott, Arizona. It was a local place around the corner from Prescott's main town square. There were many funny sayings attached to the walls. I forget them now, sorry. I ordered ham and eggs. The place was full, not an empty seat. I am pretty sure that the waitresses chewed gum. I was eating my breakfast when a guy walked in the front door to the counter and said, "excuse me." The woman behind the counter asked if she could help. He said yes, he was wondering if the cafe sold cigarettes. She said, "No, we don't, but you can get them across the street at the health food store." I thought that was pretty funny.

Little flower faces

As I walked along a pretty residental street in Sacramento, Calif., I spotted these two yellow pansies by a front porch. They looked like cute little faces peering out at me. What do you think?

Old West "Ladies" honored

The 1849 California Gold Rush brought swarms of wealth-seekers to the American West. But for quite awhile they were almost entirely male. Not many ladies were interested in a meaningful experience with a gold pan in the middle of nowhere. But a few hearty women made the trek, and some found better ways to strike gold than stand by a stream and break their backs. These "ladies of the evening" are remembered today in Nevada City, California, a beautiful Victorian community right along California Route 49, which was named for the "Forty Niners." If you want to see the monument for yourself, look in the parking lot of the National Hotel, which just so happens to be the longest continually operating hotel west of the Mississippi.

Thoughts about happiness

I was flipping through the TV channels the other day and stumbled upon a program that showed people's funny home videos. There was one where a woman, probably about 20, went crazy with happiness when she opened a present, which was a cell phone. She screamed and ran around in circles and finally started crying because she was so happy.

I was thinking about that woman today. I was thinking about happiness. The thought struck me that it would be great if we could install a little meter in ourselves that we could look at to determine how happy we were. Sometimes it's hard to really know because we are experiencing many conflicting emotions at once. I never get as happy as that woman was about her new cell phone. I'd die if I got that happy: my heart would stop.

I don't consider happiness a goal. I think more about my level of contentment. I strive to be content.

But today, as I drove down a pretty highway on a beautiful sunny day, I thought that when I am driving on a road like that on a day like that, and I am in no rush, I am about as content as a person could be. I don't feel like I have a care in the world. Everything seems right.

I don't think I should aspire to a feeling better than that. I think if I had a meter installed in me that measured contentment, its gauge would be right near the top. Does this make any sense to you? What do you think?

The Claw

I dined at a Denny's Diner this afternoon, my first Denny's experience in a few years. The restaurant is called a Denny's Diner, but to me it looked like a regular Denny's. I ordered a Chicken Fiesta, which was a chicken fried steak with a fancy name and a few canned veggies on top. Inside the restaurant's front door is a game where for a dollar you try to grab a stuffed animal with a mechanical claw. It looks easy. It's not. I spent a lot of money on such machines when my daughter was young and I never won, not even once.

Today, a young couple with a boy about four tried to win. The little boy was wide-eyed as Dad deposted a dollar and maneuvered the claw directly over the animal of the boy's desire. Alas, the claw wimped out, failing to grab the toy. The boy was sad.

I asked my waitress if anyone had ever won. "Oh, yes," she said. "A little girl this morning had two dollars and she won two animals." I was surprised. I figured she would say something like, "No, nobody ever has won anything and I have worked here for two years."

My waitress told me that when the man restocks the stuffed animals he packs them tight. "One day I offered him $5 for a really cute toy," she said, "but he wouldn't do it. He said, 'why don't you just put in your $5 in and try to win one.'" But she told me she didn't do it.

Cheap stuff at fancy places

I wrote below about how the long and formal-looking dining table at Hearst's Castle would always include a ketchup bottle and a jar of mustard. The plates were normal, just like you would find in a cafe. Same with the silverware. Nothing fancy. Hearst was a millionaire many times over. In today's dollars he would be a multi-billionaire. He could afford good china. But sometimes people with new money don't have the high taste of old-money blue-bloods who can't even comprehend the concept of poverty. Which reminds me:

Have you ever been to Graceland, where Elvis lived? The house is called a mansion, but I'm telling you, it's one tacky place -- with ugly shag carpet, couches that look like they came from Woolworth's, and stuff all over the place that doesn't match. Elvis liked junk food, too. I don't think there was anything fancy about his dinner table. I bet he used TV trays.

Years ago, when I was in college, I was invited (long story) to spend an afternoon at Hugh Heffner's Playboy Mansion when it was in Chicago. I remember walking down the stairs to the basement, where there was a tropical, cave-like bar that I had seen a hundred times in Playboy Magazine. There was even a life-sized shark hologram that floated right in the middle of the room -- very, very cool! But what I have always remembered the most about the mansion were the bare colored lightbulbs that dimly lit the stairs to the basement bar. I thought to myself, "This is just like guys put in their dormitory rooms to impress girls." The food was good at the mansion. Servants in formal attire were at our disposal, as they were 24 hours a day. Playmates walked around in skimpy white bathrobes. I was a college guy filled with massive numbers of very young, raging hormones (as opposed to the approximately 57 partially comatose ones that still remain). You might imagine how I felt when one of those centerfolds brushed by me and said hi. Sort of like what the Wicked Witch said before she died: "I'm melting." Whoa! That was tough just looking and not touching!

This Morro Bay, California business believes in honesy in advertising when it comes to its name. I would have asked the owner about the origin of the businesses name, but as you can see, it was closed.

A fancy pool for commoners

I bet you have never seen a swimming pool as grand as the one at Hearst Castle in San Simeon, California. This is William Randolph Hearst's pool. But as I said in my entry below, the pool was not popular in Hearst's day. According to my tour guide, people weren't avid swimmers then. Today, the pool gets plenty of use, but not by the rich and famous. Nowadays it's used by the employees of Hearst Castle, which is the main attraction at Hearst San Simeon State Historical Monument. In the summer, when the daytime temperature can reach 90 and even 100 degrees, employees may use the pool in the evening after the park closes, and they can bring along guests. "I never knew I had so many friends," my guide said. The Hearst family uses the pool on special occasions, too. But, mostly, it's for the commoners now. By the way, the pool is heated by the sun. In the old days, oil heat was used, but that's long gone. When I visited on November 11, the water temperature was only 55.

Heart Castle: what a place!

I visited Hearst Castle today. A two-hour tour costs $20, which includes a bus ride five miles to the castle, which is high atop a hill at 1,600 feet overlooking the Pacific Ocean. It's an amazing view. When you get to the castle, you have to make sure you are not chewing gum. Apparently some people have spit it out on rare oriental carpets, which is one big mess to clean up. The castle is packed with statues, paintings, Greek vases and other art treasures. I can't begin to explain them all. Just believe me when I say they are beautiful and impressive. The main castle, called Casa Grande, is where William Randolph Hearst would stay. It alone has more than 60,000 square feet. All together, counting the main castle and the smaller guest "cottages," there are 52 bedrooms, 102 bathrooms and 41 fireplaces. In the big dining room, on the very long table, are mustard and ketchup bottles. Even though he was filthy rich, Hearst didn't go for fancy stuff at the dinner table. Even the dishes were "Blue Plate," the same thing you would find in a cafe at the time. I was amazed at the outdoor swimming pool. It's as big as maybe three average size houses. But my guide said that Hearst's guests didn't use it much. "People didn't know how to swim like they do today," she explained. Did you know that William Randolph Hearst didn't even start the castle until he was 50 years old? That's true. I can't even imagine living in such a place. It's too much for me. I prefer a little cottage or a motorhome. But this is a great tour. If you are in the area you should take it. Be sure to make reservations ahead of time. It's one busy place!

Cute pig and smiling girl

This cute little piggie was in a store window in Cambria, California. I was walking the Main Street after woofing down a Morning Scramble breakfast ($7.95) at the Cambria Cafe, where a very attractive young waiter-person served me with a big smile. She had perfect teeth. I'd say she was about 18. Ever since I spent $5,000 for braces for my daughter, I have noticed the teeth of other young people. This young woman not only smiled when she served me, but all the time. Even when she went into the kitchen, she was smiling. When she brought my Morning Scramble, I asked her, "Do you always smile?" I don't think she was ready for the question. If I were younger, then I would have assumed she thought I was trying to make a pass. But I am nearly as old as a fossil so I know that such a thought could not have crossed her youthful mind. So she said, "I try to," and that was that. It has been my observation through the years that 5% of Americans default to a smile and 15% default to a frown. The rest just sort of look neutral. So this young woman was special. The Morning Scramble had too much meat and not enough egg. It was just okay. After breakfast I walked around town a little, just checking things out. That's when I saw the pig in the window, which I thought was pretty good looking for a pig.

Recycled toilet paper

I happened upon some recycled paper earlier today. It was toilet paper. EcoSoft, "100% Recycled" it said right on the toilet paper packaging. It's good to recycle, that's for sure. For a brief minute this morning as I pondered the paper before me, the thought of recycled toilet paper did not seem right, and provided a good laugh.

Cotton along the roadside

I drove right through the heart of central California's big valley yesterday on state route 46. It connects the main north-south roads of the state, Highway 99 (the old main highway) and I-5 to the west. There is nothing much to see -- dairy farms, many ugly unattended brown fields, and acre upon acre of cotton fields. I bet many people do not know that cotton grows on plants. As a kid, when my family would pass through this area on family vacations, we would stop alongside the road and pick up cotton that lay on the ground. I did that again today -- to show my daughter when I get home. Cotton is picked by machine nowadays, a speedy process compared to olden times when "cotton pickers" did the job. In 1793, Eli Whitney invented the cotton gin, a machine that quickly and easily separated the cotton fibers from the seedpods and the sometimes sticky seeds. That was a big deal and enabled the cotton industry to move into warp speed.

Bragging about grandchildren

A car ahead of me today had a license frame that said, "My grandchildren are cuter than yours." Now why would anybody make such a stupid public admission? Everybody is proud of their grandchildren and most think they are as cute as can be. What does a person who advertises such a slogan hope to accomplish? Is to make others laugh? If I were a grandparent, I would be offended if I came upon this slogan. I would want to drive up alongside the driver, roll down my window and say, "No your grandchildren are not cuter than mine!" Don't ever put such a message on your bumper. If someone gives you such a license plate frame as a gift, put it on the wall in your den, but not on your car.

A memorial to the tragic death of James Dean

Actor James Dean died in a violent head one car crash along California State Route 46 on September 30 1955. He was just 24 years old, and already a movie idol to millions. Today, at a lonely outpost on the still-remote highway, a memorial near the crash site pays tribute to the young actor. Dean had just wrapped up shooting on the film Giant and was on his way to compete in an auto race held in Salinas. He had originally planned to tow his Porche Spyder to the race, but at the last minute decided to drive. Speeding 85 miles per hour down a long hill near Cholame, he collided with another car. Dean was killed instantly. Alongside the memorial plaque are a small cafe, a pay phone and a mailbox, and that's all there is for miles around. But people stop all day long to pay their respects. Had Dean lived, he would now be 75 years old.

The Sun-Maid maiden, then and now

Some people never age. Oh, in real life they do, but in other ways they never do. Like in advertising. In 1915, Lorraine Collett Petersen posed for artist Fanny Scafford in San Francisco. The result was a smiling young Lorraine wearing a brilliant red bonnett and holding a basket of grapes. At the time Petersen was earning $15 a week as a part-time seeder and packer. Chances are good you have seen Loraine's portrait hundreds of times on packages of Sun-Maid Raisins and other Sun-Maid products.

Soon after posing for the artist, Lorraine landed a small movie role in ''Trail of the Lonesome Pine." Later, she ran a Fresno restaurant for two years, then converted a former hospital into nursing home and retired as a nurse. She died in 1983 at age 90. The watercolor portrait of Lorraine was recently modernized, but the current image closely resembles the original.

I don't know when the photo above of her was taken, but you can see it in person and learn more about Lorraine at the Sun-Maid Visitor Center in Selma, California. Be sure to stop at the Sun-Maid store next door, where you can buy lots of good stuff made with raisins. I bought a big jar of chocolate covered raisins. Selma is a few miles south of Fresno on I-5 and is the "Raisin Capital of the World."

Multi-level marketing at Starbucks

I am at a Starbucks in Madera, Calif., to work on my blog. I'm trying to write, but a guy named Tim and his wife are a few feet away, pitching a multi-level marketing program to another couple, and it's hard to concentrate because Tim has a loud voice. "Don't worry about money, it will come," Tim just told the other couple. Tim says he and his wife are Masters -- that's some sort of level they've achieved in the organization. Tim said he and his wife have been in other multi-level marketing programs, but this one, which involves nutritional products, is the very best. Tim said they took out a second mortgage on their house to finance the business. The other couple seems interested, but it's hard to tell. Tim and his wife have a big chart that they keep flipping. I can only see the back, but the type is too small to read unless I stare, which would be impolite. Tim's wife said to the other couple that "Tim and I are pioneers." Tim said that everyone needs the product. He just told about a couple that started this business and only four months later were making $4,000 a month. I'm sorry I can't tell you the name of the product, but I can tell you that I have learned that it is powder-based. Anyway, I'd write more, but I have to leave. Tim and his wife look to be in their early 40s. Tim said that he plans to retire in less than four years, which is pretty impressive.

Businesses that rhyme

These businesses need to get together. Ho Hum is in West Yellowstone, Mont. Yum Yum is in Madera, Calif. I think they should open side by side. You could stay at the Ho Hum and eat donuts at Yum Yum. When someone asked you your plans, you could say, "I will stay at the Ho Hum and eat at Yum Yum." People would be impressed. Really, though, these two businesses should merge into the Ho Hum Yum Yum. That would get a lot of attention. The world needs more places like that -- places you can remember. Staying at Motel 6 and eating at Krispy Kream Donuts is boring. I say stay at Ho Hum, eat at Yum Yum. That has a nice ring to it.

The aroma of Blind George's Newsstand

If you are downtown Grants Pass, Ore., and you are hungry, then you may end up eating popcorn. At Blind George's Newsstand on G Street, the popcorn machine is almost always popping, and a vent pipes the buttery aroma right outside. If there is even a slight breeze, the yummy smell will travel a few blocks. Blind George's was founded in 1922 by blind man George Spencer, who first operated out of a tent with an investment of less than $50. Today, the business has a huge magazine rack -- as big as you'll likely ever see outside a big city, plus a big selection of out of town newspapers and a cafe, too. But popcorn is the star attraction, not just to local folks but to people around the world. Every day, countless packages in several flavors are mailed to all corners of the USA and even the world. If you are in Grants Pass, you owe yourself a stop at Blind George's Newsstand and a bag of popcorn. Chances are good that you will smell the store before you see it.

Bumper sticker crazy

I do not have a single bumper sticker on my motorhome. This RVer has plenty. How many stickers do you have? Why do you suppose someone puts so many bumper stickers all over his or her motorhome? Are they proud of where they have been? Are they bragging where they have been? Maybe they are sticker collectors. That could be it. But what do they do with all those stickers when they are ready to sell their RV? I bet they are hard to remove. I guess the owners of this rig probably figure they will worry about that when the time comes.

Incredibly tender steaks

This is an excellent business slogan. Most restaurant owners would just put up a sign that said "tender steaks." I don't notice those boring kinds of signs. Most of the time the steaks aren't tender at all. You can't miss this sign. I didn't eat here because it was between meals. But it if was dinner time, I would have tried a steak just out of curiosity.

George Washington and the big cherry pie

George is a little town in Washington. The proper way to write its name would be George, Washington. But some people just write George Washington, with no comma, as in the father of our country. George is right along I-90, just east of the Cascade mountains between Ellensburg and Moses Lake. Don't blink as you go by. Every year, the locals bake the "World's Largest Cherry Pie," in honor of President Washington, who chopped down a cherry tree when he was a little boy. But he really didn't. That's just a folktale that gets passed from generation to generation. There used to be a good place to eat in George. But Martha's Inn has closed. A new Subway sandwich shop opened a half-mile away right at the interstate exit. Sadly, most motorists opt for a familiar place over the unknown. I can tell you from experience that Martha's Inn was a whole lot better. There were good things tacked to the walls - pictures and calendars mostly - and the waitresses chewed gum and called you "Hon." Nobody at Subway calls you that.

Death Valley and its oasis

I took this photo in Death Valley, California. It looks desolate, and it is. It can get as hot as 130 degrees in Death Valley in the summer. I have been there when it was 122 degrees. That was something else. Death Valley is a national park these days and one of my favorite places. I usually camp at the Furnace Creek oasis.

If I had turned my camera the other direction from where it points in this photo, you would see the oasis. There are thousands of palm trees. Cool spring water gushes from the earth: look carefully and you may see tiny pupfish swimming. Don't bring your fishing pole: the pupfish are maybe an inch long. Furnace Creek has three campgrounds: one is a giant gravel parking lot for RVs only.

The oasis also has a tavern, museum, gas station, visitor center, a couple of restaurants, a swimming pool, small airport, and "the world's lowest golf course." It's a beautiful green course thanks to all the spring water. In the summer you can play for free (if you can tolerate the heat). But watch out for the coyotes that rest on the cool green grass. I have been visiting Death Valley since I was a kid. The big difference between now and the olden days is that TV signals didn't reach there back then. You really felt far from civilization. Then about 15 years ago, Death Valley got a satellite dish and all of a sudden you could watch 500 channels. Now, it doesn't feel so far away.

Postcard from the past

I don't think people send as many postcards these days when they travel. Take me for example: I carry a laptop computer and digital camera. Every couple of nights I upload my photos to my computer. And I usually end up sending some to my friends and family. But I miss sending postcards like the one above. This one was sent July 27, 1959 from Adrian, Illinois to a Mr. W.S. Christian in Pasadena, Calif. I guess Mr. Christian was sick because Lorna, who sent the postcard wrote, "We should have brought you to the country. You would be getting well in a hurry. Wonderful food and lots of fresh air." Back in 1959, Pasadena was pretty much a smog pit, so I think Lorna is right about how Mr. Christian would have been getting better with some good air. Even though Mr. Christian couldn't come on the trip, apparently Lorna's children did. "These kids are sure having a good time," she wrote. "They dug for potatoes and Deb said someone hid them in the dirt. They really have a time feeding poultry."

The best job I ever had

I live and work in a complicated world. It wasn’t always so. I once owned a Kool Aid stand. At times it was a lemonade stand. I was young, of course, maybe 10 at the height of my beverage stand career. It was good work. My mother furnished the raw material. She bought the Kool Aid or furnished the lemons. My job was to paint a cardboard sign offering my service and to haul a small table and pitcher of beverage about 40 yards to the side of busy Lark Ellen Avenue, which provided plenty of drive-by traffic and customers.

Of all the businesses I have ever owned, this was the most profitable per sale. There was no business license, no taxes to pay, no rent, and the cost of the goods I sold was free thanks to my mother’s generosity. So every penny I made went into my youthful pocket, to be spent later on such essential kid items as red licorice, root beer and comic books. Today, whenever I pass by a Kool Aid or lemonade stand, I purchase a drink to support the young entrepreneur or entrepreneurs. Really, here’s the rationale: I pay 50 cents for a drink there or I can keep on driving and pay $3 at Starbucks. So, as you can see, after all these years, roadside beverage stands are still providing an outstanding return on my investment.

For cubicle dwellers

For anyone who works in a cubicle. A song for you: http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=538904508463219292

Dead cars

What do you do when you buy a new car? For one thing, you trade in your old one. But have you ever wondered where that old car ends up? It won't last forever.

If it dies in the city, it will be hauled to a junk yard. But if it dies in the country, it will be hauled nowhere; it will remain where it dies -- in a front yard, alongside a barn, or, often as not, in a field where nature can slowly reclaim it.

I interviewed a rodeo cowboy once named Wilson Tate. He was in town for the big Folsom Rodeo in northern California. He went through cars like most of us go through razor blades. His last car had died in the outback of Nevada. "I just pulled out my gun and shot it," he said. And then he walked away.

Travel the backs roads as I do, and each trip you will see 30 dead deer, 60 dead jack rabbits, 3 dead coyotes, 34 dead snakes, 23 dead squirrels, 17 dead skunks, and 6,000 dead cars.

Say it isn't so. Pluto no longer a planet!

Did you hear the news that Pluto is no longer a planet? That's right. The scientific community has ruled that it doesn't qualify. So now there are only eight planets in our solar system instead of nine. I am sad. I liked Pluto. It was my favorite planet, I think because it was the little guy of the planets and also because of Walt Disney's Pluto, a terrific cartoon character. Jupiter, on the other hand, is huge, dwarfing Earth and making tiny Pluto look like a planetary pea. And now, scientists say Pluto can't be a planet at all because its oblong orbit overlaps with Neptune's, and the rule is that one planet cannot overlap another which seems like a silly rule to me. In Flagstaff, Arizona, the Lowell Observatory is most famous for having discovered the planet Pluto. But now all it can brag about is discovering a dwarf planet, which is the new classification for Pluto and some asteroids. Discovering a dwarf planet is no big deal.

Variety Stores

Maybe your grandmother shopped here. Maybe you did if you grew up in rural America. You don't find many variety stores anymore. And when you do, boards are likely nailed against the windows.

Wal-Mart is the new Variety Store. I suppose Mom and Pop stores like this could compete better in an age where there wasn't as much "variety" -- when there were three brands of toothpaste instead of six dozen like today.

Woolworth was a good variety store. It had its day. After awhile there got to be too much variety for even a big store like that.

Henry Ford doomed the Variety Store when he built his first Motel T car. Suddenly, people could drive a few miles to shop, spreading business around. When the roads got better, they could drive even farther. And if they didn't want to drive at all, Mr. Sears had his catalog. Main Street became less relevant. Then Sam Walton reasoned that people would drive 50 miles to save $10 on a toaster. And so he began building Wal-Marts, quickly outpacing competitor Kmart that, alas, had the corporate IQ of a chimp.

If you ever find a variety store like the one in this photo, and it is still operating, would you please stop in and ask the owner how things are going? Is business good? Or is it on its last legs? Please let me know.

Mike The Mover's motorhome

Mike The Mover owns an Edmonds, Wash., moving company. He also runs for local political offices, but he's never won. Most recently he ran for Washington state governor. In 1981, Mike legally changed his name to Mike The Mover so he'd get free advertising on voter ballots. To be clear about this, his middle name is "The." Mike owns this motorhome, which is called an Ultra Van. It was made a few decades ago. Not many are left. This one is painted up, so it doesn't resemble a rolling marshallow like the few dozen other surviving Ultra Vans, most painted white. Ultra Vans are gutless RVs, powered by tiny Corvair engines. I spotted Mike's parked next to the Washington State Ferry holding area in Edmonds, where motorists wait for a ride across Puget Sound to the Kitsap Peninsula. I bet it gets a lot of laughs from passengers waiting for a ride, and it's probably good for business, too.

Vacations No More

According to a survey by a New York executive search company, more and more Americans are continuing to work even when on vacation. The result is that they often return to the office more stressed than when they left for vacation. Laptops, e-mail and PDA technology coupled with cell phones and voice mail has created a virtual office environment easy to take with you from just about anywhere. And so, rather than a vacation being a refreshing respite from the day to day grind, people are working as they go, squeezing in a bit of play along the way.

The National Park Service recently reported that visitation is down in parks across the country. The reason: vacationers would rather play with technology than spend time with nature. I was in Yellowstone National Park two weeks ago. Inside the Visitor Center, a boy of about eight huddled in a corner playing with his hand-held Game Boy. One hundred yards away, Old Faithful was only minutes from erupting.

My daughter and I headed out to wait for the famous geyser to spout. A crowd of several hundred other tourists waited with us. Next to me, a man placed a call with his cell phone: "Guess where I am?" he asked. And then he talked a little business.

About 10 feet away, a jovial fellow surrounded by friends was asked why he didn't have his camera ready to photograph the geyser. "If I want a picture, I can get it off the Internet," he said.

I wrote recently of my new Verizon cell phone plan that allows me to connect with my computer anywhere Verizon provides service. In metropolitan areas, the connection it at broadband speed. In the boonies, it's still respectively fast -- about two to three times faster than dial up.

In Yellowstone, I parked outside a campground to see if I could get a cell connection. I was curious to learn if I would be able to get online if I camped there. Yup, not a problem. For me, RV travel is often part business, part vacation. So I need my computer. Years ago, when I pulled into a campground, I left the outside world behind. Now, if I want, I can bring it right inside with me. Is that necessary? Is that the way to enjoy a forest or seashore?

I was talking to my 15-year-old daughter today about this. "You know, Emily, if we were camped where there were no Internet access, if I asked you to sit by the campfire with me, you'd love to do it. But if you knew that you could stay inside the RV and get onto your MySpace account or chat with your buddies, I bet you would beg to stay in the motorhome." She smiled and nodded. Like me, she knows the lure of the Internet.

It's great that our new technology allows us such incredible freedom to stay in touch pretty much wherever we are. But we're paying a price for it, aren't we? We're losing our ability to simply relax, play. . . and let the world take care of itself for awhile.

That's not good.