Monday, July 7, 2008 ... Standpipe, SW 4th Avenue

From Merriam-Webster online: standpipe
Pronunciation:
\ˈstan(d)-ˌpīp\
Function:
noun
Date:
circa 1850

: a high vertical pipe or reservoir that is used to secure a uniform pressure in a water-supply system

I wonder why I don't remember noticing any of these fire fighting devices--as well as the other styles I've seen and photographed in Portland--in the cities where I've lived as an adult: Jackson, Mississippi, Kansas City, Missouri and Kansas, Houston, Texas. Just now, sitting in our 4th floor apartment with the windows open, a cool breeze blowing across the room in July, for Pete's sake, I've decided I know the answer. I never really walked around in those cities like I do here because the weather often was too hot and humid for me to want to be outside. Or it could be sheets of rain, blowing in the wind, so I didn't want to be outside.

I like being outside in Portland, walking. So I notice more. And I carry my Nikon D50 with me most all of the time, ready to take photos of whatever strikes my fancy. Then I get to download the photos and find other neat things I didn't see in the first place, like this parking garage reflected in the granite.

Ain't life grand?

"The Closer," G. W. Bailey, Dave Robicheaux, Boris Said and NASCAR, and some random thoughts

"The Closer" update: Doggone it! I can't tell you anything 'cause I don't wanna give it away in case you decide to watch it. Oh, I will tell you that Barry Corbin is playing Brenda Leigh's daddy Clay! And the wonderful Frances Sternhagen plays her mama, Willie Ray. (Try saying Willie Ray real fast, over and over. Give me a report on what happens, please, and then I'll tell you what happened to me.) About tonight's episode, suffice it to say that Mama and I spent every minute with our faces pointed straight at the TV, our ears tuned to every word. At one point, I excitedly asked Mama, "What wuz tha-yet?" She turned toward me and calmly said, "A lotta shootin'." She sounded just like Lt. Provenza, for some reason, which got me to laughing throughout the entire commercial break.

Any of y'all remember G. W. Bailey from "St. Elsewhere"? Was he a psychiatrist on the hospital staff? He played Capt. Harris in those Police Academy movies. Now he's Lt. Provenza on my favorite TV show. I found out on the Internet that Bailey's originally from Port Arthur, Texas. And get this, he grew up with Janis Joplin! Port Arthur is one of the dozens of towns we lived in in Texas, back when Daddy had that job working on cooling towers when I was little. Mama says Port Arthur is where my hair lost its natural curl; she blames it on the salty wind that blew in from the Ship Channel. I can testify that the curls never returned unless aided by chemicals and a beautician!
Here's some photos I found at Google images:

Bailey's on the back row, with the glasses and the camel-colored vest. Oh, how I loved "St. Elsewhere." Remember it and "Hill St. Blues"? Ground-breaking series that sucked me, I'm glad to say.


My goodness, I had no idea that Lt. Provenza would clean up this good!

If you're wanting a book to read, let me recommend James Lee Burke's "Pegasus Descending," one of his Dave Robicheaux series. Whew. It's heavy, wonderfully so. It's a hundred percent Louisiana bad and Louisiana good. Vivid, tortured, honorable.

Boris Said update, from NASCAR dot com: Kudos to Bill Elliott for volunteering to give up his Wood Brothers ride in Sunday's Cup race to Boris Said, who was extremely frustrated and disappointed when he couldn't attempt to make the race on his own because qualifying Friday was rained out and the starting grid was set according to owner points (watch video). Said was forced to start 39th because of the driver change, but finished 14th. That was good enough to lock the Wood Brothers' No. 21 Ford into the top 35 in car owner points, guaranteeing it a spot in this weekend's race at Michigan.

Now for the random thoughts. Be grateful for your beliefs, for what's available to you. Partake of life. Branch out. Don't get in a rut. Exercise your mind, your heart and your body. And tell your loved ones how much they mean to you each and every day. I'm talking to myself, too.