A very unusual big tree with a bear inside

I found this photo on a greeting card at an old-fashioned hardware store in rural Washington. On the front it says, "Two natives of Washington, a bear den and dwelling in a Washington Saw Log." You can see the bear inside its den on the left side of the photo. After a bit of research, I learned that the photo was once on a postcard, with the following description on the back: "This log was cut four miles from Aberdene from a spruce log 40 feet from the Butt which was 13 feet in diameter at one end and eight feet at the other. It is 40 feet long, 9 feet in diameter at one end of eight feet at the other, cut to show at the St. Louis Fair, and is now in Belle Isle Park at Detroit, Mich. There are chairs, settee and table cut inside of the log. When in St. Louis it housed two bears and a large cougar."

Do you know anything about this saw log? Maybe if you are old enough you once saw it. It's not at Belle Isle Park in Detroit anymore. If it is still around I would like to know so I can visit it someday. It reminds me of the One-Log House in the California Redwoods. That one is a little smaller, cost a dollar to go inside, and never housed any bears.

Barbie -- the perfect woman of my youth!

Oh, man! Check out this Barbie TV commercial from 1959. Here she is, the perfect woman -- the image of femininity young girls of my generation aspired to be when they grew up. Ken, Barbie's guy, didn't come along until later. I never wanted to be Ken. He was way too stiff, too plastic. . . boring! Really, really boring! My sister owned a Barbie or two. I remember seeing her naked -- the doll, not my sister. She was only partially realistic, and not interesting to a young guy just producing his first testosterone. Fast forward a few decades. My daughter entered prime Barbie age and passed right through without paying any attention to the most popular doll in the history of mankind. What a relief!

Anyway, check out this commercial with its swell music.

Peaceful pond in busy city

I discovered this pond the other day while on a shopping mission. It's in Lynnwood, Wash., about five miles from my home in Edmonds. From the photo you would think it's in the middle of nowhere. But, actually, Scriber Lake Park is surrounded by a busy city. It looks peaceful here because there's no sound. But it was noisy with cars passing by only a few dozen yards from where I snapped this photo. The ducks were upset that I didn't bring them any snacks. After checking me out they paddled away.

An amazing turkey I once met

Here is an essay I wrote many years ago. I offer it again as this year's Thanksgiving holiday approaches.

His name was Tom and he lived in Douglas, Wyoming. His owner was a man named Jim Herrick, who makes and sells jackalopes. Jim's uncle, in fact, invented the jackalope in taxidermy. I ran into Jim one day while RVing through Douglas. He said he'd show me his jackalopes. So I went to his workshop, where there was a wall-full of jackalopes. It was an impressive sight.

Jackalopes, in case you do not know, are half jackrabbit and half antelope. They have antlers. Jackalopes are nocturnal, which is why you seldom see one in the wild. They generally show up only outside rural taverns late a night. They mate only during lightning storms. Males and females sing duets. People who have heard them say they sound like Roy Rogers and Dale Evans.

Afterwards, out front, I met Tom. He was a big turkey — not handsome, nothing special to look at. But he seemed friendly. Jim told me he had a special talent. I asked what. "He belches," Jim said. I didn't believe him. But Jim showed me. He grabbed Tom, wrapped his arms around the bird's chest, squeezed, and -- wowie! Tom let lose with a belch the size of all Wyoming! Jim told me more about Tom. Not only did he belch, but he wanted to better himself. "Everyday he walks to the bus stop with the kids when they go to school," Jim said. "But everyday, the driver leaves him behind."

A FEW WEEKS LATER I returned home from my trip. And I wrote an article about Tom. I wrote about his impressive baritone belch and his desire to get an education. It was just a little story. That's what I thought.

In mid-November, my phone rang. It was the Tonight Show. "We want Tom on the show," a producer said. "We want him to burp on Thanksgiving." She asked if I could help them find the fowl. I said sure.

I called Jim. I asked about Tom. "He's not here," Jim said. "He's dead." I was stunned. "He got hit by a car on the way back from the bus stop. Somebody ran over him on purpose."

It was a sad day. I told the Tonight Show that Tom was unavailable to belch due to death.

And that was that.

No more sleep for me

If I live to be 80, I will have spent 26 years in bed. Frankly, I've got better things to do. Like drinking coffee (legally required in Seattle, where I live), writing, driving my motorhome or dining at a roadside cafe where the waitresses chew gum and call you "Hon."

Thinking about the time I waste sleeping bothers me. It's not just the sleeping itself. Before you sleep, you have to get ready, which means brushing your teeth, taking a few pills to keep yourself alive, and changing into your pajamas. Getting up is worse. You look terrible with your hair all messed up, and there's stuff in the corners of your eyes, and you have morning breath. So you have to waste precious time preparing yourself to look as good as you did before you went to bed the night before. So why not just stay up?

Some scientists say we sleep because when we were cavemen it was tough finding food. So we holed up in caves at night to conserve energy — so we could get by on less. I guess if you're in a dark cave, there's nothing better to do than sleep. There was no TV or Internet back then, so sleep was logical.

But now we have plenty of food. Just look around. Half the guys in America over 40 have bellies that sag over their belts.

And frankly, I've been thinking about what it's like to be asleep. You crawl into bed, close your eyes, and for the next eight hours trust God that Charlie Manson won't show up.

So I'd like to announce that I will not sleep anymore. I have plenty of food to eat, so I don't need to conserve energy. And, frankly, I'm totally bored with getting out of bed, doing a couple of chores, squeezing in a few meals, then getting back into bed, then doing the same thing over and over again. I've already slept for at least 18 years. Enough is enough. Now that I have decided not to sleep anymore, I plan to use my extra time learning how to tune up engines and seal RV roof leaks.

On the road: dead cars here, dead cars everywhere

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 your old car ends up? Used cars don’t last forever. One day, your old car will die. 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 -- along the road, in back of a store, or in a front yard.

Travel the back roads as I do, and in a year's time you will see 20 dead deer, 50 dead jack rabbits, 3 dead coyotes, 22 dead snakes, 35 dead squirrels, 17 dead skunks, and 5,000 dead cars. I believe that in 50 years people will consider our present day automobiles primitive. If you really think about it, they are already primitive. But they’re the best thing we currently have for personal transportation.

Cars break down a lot because there are so many moving parts. Auto makers have improved the performance of cars through the years, but in doing so they have made them so complicated that a backyard mechanic can no longer do his own repair work.

My first car, a 1958 Volkswagen, was a bit more powerful than a go-kart, but I could do a lot of the mechanical work myself. Now, with all sorts of sophisticated electronic gizmos, you need a Ph.D. in mechanical engineering to figure out what to do when something goes wrong. Someday they’ll look back at our slow, gas-eating, polluting vehicles and laugh -- sort of like the way we think of Stanley Steamers today.

Why you cannot please everyone

You cannot please everyone. You can please many people, but you cannot please everybody, except maybe every once in awhile. Sometimes you can be very kind, but people will get mad at you. You may ask "How can that be?" Here is an example:

Think about the last time you were in your car in a crowded parking lot. Perhaps it was at a sporting event or movie. Usually, everybody will leave all at once. That creates a traffic jam when drivers need to squeeze out of two or maybe three exits.

Some drivers will butt in while others will wait to be let into an exit lane. But, all in all, it's basically a free-for-all.

Now here is where you can be a good person and a bad person at the same time. The driver you let in line in front of you will think you are very kind. He or she might even smile or wave a hand to thank you. Maybe you are feeling especially generous and let in another car. Now you are extra nice, right?

No. Because the drivers in the cars behind you will think you are a creep for letting cars in ahead of them. Now, they just have to wait longer to get home, which does not make them happy. Waiting in a parking lot is not fun. It's boring. And those people behind you will not be happy at all when you just make them wait longer.

This is just one instance when you cannot please everyone, even if you think you are being kind.

Warm things are nice

Not to long ago I was camped in Mesquite Springs Campground in Death Valley. It was winter, and the temperature dropped to about 20 degrees that night. Before retiring to bed, I took a walk to get some fresh air. Burr! I was so cold! But then I returned to my little motorhome where it was warm. It was such a good feeling to be in such a cozy space when all around me for miles it was freezing cold.

Heat is a very good thing -- a wonderful thing sometimes. Here are some great heat-related experiences:

--Putting on warm socks right out of the dryer on a cold morning.
--Taking a hot bath or shower after being the cold all day.
--Lounging in a warm lounge at a ski resort after a morning of skiing.
--Sitting in front of a campfire on a chilly evening.
--Eating hot, homemade soup on a cold winter afternoon.
--Climbing into a bed heated by an electric blanket.
--Snuggling up with your sweetheart in bed on a cold night.
--Stopping at a cafe for a cup of hot coffee or hot chocolate.

I am sure there are many other good, warm things. Maybe you can leave a comment with a few of your favorites.