"Don't Touch That Dial", y'all.

 

Usually on Saturday mornings at the coffeehouse, the younger baristas man the counter and the drive-up window. Mary, the "don't call me a barista!" barista, usually opens the place just before seven. Mario, the only male that has ever worked at GiddyUp follows shortly after and turns on the radio on Sirius to a rather "alternative" scene. It's not head bashing or heavy metal grooves, but for drinking coffee and trying to ease into the morning, it is a bit... odd!

Between 8am and 9am, the girls stroll in, and I can tell by what's on the radio by who has control of those "dials!"

The older ladies prefer the Fifties and Sixties. In that rotation is always Etta James, "A Sunday Kinda Love" even though it is Saturday. You know, Frankie Baby, Peggy Lee, Johnny Mathis, Sara Vaughn, etc.

Laura, who only now works on Saturday afternoons, always played the Beatles catalogue with a few Beach Boy tunes thrown in. I love it!

Madison, who is an early morning staple, doesn't really have a particular favorite though I can tell when she changes the channel. By her own admission, she likes music that one can "study by!"

Mary says, "Maddie, play some music, but nothing "too sleepy!"

When Isabella, the woman who had a radio program called "Girls Up Front!" arrives, suddenly, there's this ethereal, celestial, sounds, heavy with breathy reverb that, in a way, seems too perfect for this world!

Everyone is copacetic with the choices of the morning until someone goes on break...

"Quick, Mario's away, change the channel!"

No one 'cept Sandra and Mary understood my reference to the living room battles created when someone got up to change the TV channel only to lose their favorite chair in the process.

Ah, the good ole days!

Copyright 2024/Ben Bensen III

"Who Did Ya Pick in the Fourth Race at Del Mar Today?"

Plays the Horses!

Good "thoroughly"Thursday Morning, y'all.

Here's a sketch of Robert from afar sitting at the Giddy Up window where Carol Flannery's stain glass art hangs.

Robert is a unique character. He likes to hover around conversations instead of sitting in one. I was lucky enough to get this pose from him. Bob likes to play the horses and is probably contemplating his next move as the racetracks at Del Mar and Santa Anita open this coming weekend.

He goes to church on Wednesday and Sunday and I can tell because he dresses up a bit. I like to tease him about praying for a winner at Mass.

"Hey Bob, who did ya pick in the fourth race at Del Mar today?"

And, he tells me... though I haven't a clue what he's talking about!

First cup!

Copyright 2024/Ben Bensen III

 

A Portrait...

 

Oh, and by the way, happy belated birthday to you, Jimmy Carter, celebrating his 100th birthday!

Copyright 2024/Ben BensenIII

"Not A Patch On His Ass!"

To The Bone...

 Good "Bad To The Bone" Saturday Morning, all bodies.

The other day while watching some baseball game, one of the announcers, it could have been John Smoltz, reference a player as being "bad to the bone!" The statement sent in motion the memories of driving to Pomona and back every day for work.

One of those days, KMET's DJ Jim Ladd, replayed an interview he recorded with George Thorogood. At that time I was just getting into his high energy, raucous blues style of performing. He also liked baseball and had a team named after his band, The Delaware Destroyers. I thought that was pretty cool.

I liked him enough to consider including his first two albums in my collection. But, there were so many other albums that I wanted to buy in the waning years of the Seventies, that I just wasn't sure, Until...

Until, in that interview, Jim Ladd compared his blues style of playing guitar to Eric Clapton's.

"You really think so", George asked.

Jim went into his direct, but rather long winded opinion about the comparison of the two.

"Nah, nah, George said. I can't play the blues like him. I'm not even a patch on his ass, but..."

I perked up and turned the volume a bit louder. I can get behind people that respect that space and who can humble themselves accordingly. It's quite refreshing to see and hear, but...

"But Eric can't hit to the opposite field with men in scoring position," Thorogood laughed and I almost choked on my coffee with laughter.

That sold me!

Copyright 2024/ Ben Bensen III

I Don't Iron My Clothes Much Nowadays!

 

Good "they call it Stormy Monday, but"... it's a wet Wednesday Morning, y'all...

Today, take a moment or two to reflect on what happened 23 years ago at the World Trade Center in New York.

I really haven't been sketching much lately. I decided to attend and use a pencil and a sketchpad at the Giddy Up Sketching group from LAG last Monday. One of the artists brought this iron iron from Italy from days gone by. The handle is the only thing not made of iron and is quite "handy" to open the top of the tool to fill the cavity with hot coals.

Having a wrinkle free shirt or blouse mustah carried a lot of weight in those days... and, in more ways than one!

First Giddy Up cup!

Copyright 2024/ Ben Bensen III

"The Kamo Kid!"

Good "sketchie thoughts" Monday Morning, all bodies.

Today is another Lacombe Art Guild/Giddy Up get together to sketch whatever comes to mind. A few weeks ago, I sketched this boy with his father on site at the coffeehouse. I can't really call it a portrait because it was more about the concept than it was about the kid.

Maybe, I'll do the same tomorrow, that is, just sketch other LAG artists sketching other stuff.

By the way, I entitled this sketch, "The Kamo Kid".

Another cup, please!

"Ch-ch-ch-Changes..."

 

Good "glue factory?" Saturday Morning, y'all.

At one time, our former next door neighbor raised thoroughbreds. He was into the horse racing scene and had a foreman that cared for the horses and the entire property. The owner, an architect, rarely visited the place, but the foreman, Harold Fresh took great care and I got to know him over time.

One of the great treats every spring was watching the births of one or two foals from across the driveway that separated our place from the architect's. I believe his first name was Ernest.

In the morning, yesterday, Therese noticed a standard loader digging on the southern end of that property which is now owned by the new neighbor. In the five years that they've resided here, two of their four horses have died and have been buried there.

At one time, the daughter used to ride one of the horses, but now she's been in college and haven't seen much of the home... or the horses!

Kinda sad. I have to assume the horses were cared for and it was just their time to see a "new pasture." But the joy we once shared looking out of our kitchen window has long since disappeared.

Ch-ch-ch-Changes...

Copyright 2024/Ben Bensen III