SILLY ME, I THOUGHT I WAS FREE.

Adware is so ominous, it boggles the brain. After a couple of free hours on my computer, the ads were back, taking over, interfering with everything I tried to do on my computer. The company I paid, put in another half day. It gave me an evening of productive use of my computer. Then, back it came. Frustration is just a word. I wanted to pitch this computer in the garbage and I could feel steam coming out of my ears. A hell week.
It was no better this morning, as I left for an appointment with my tax man. I chose flooring at Lowes for the new house before returning home.  I changed default browsers just now and I’m finally putting words on this page. Temporarily, anyway.
Not that I have anything of great import to convey, but it has been a trusty habit to communicate via these pages, and sort of journal what happens around me.
Sometimes it is misfortune that gathers families together. My cousin Bob Moore was in town with his inlaws who live in Murphys, after we had met two days earlier at a funeral for his nephew, my kid’s cousin, Barry Moore, only 48 years young.

Brother Bill and cousin, Bob Moore at the end of the table on a beautiful sunny, Sunday morning.  His Mother-in-law Marilyn, daughter Leslie, and across from them,  my grandson Stewart and daughter-in-law Laurie. We like to meet for brunch at the Magnolia Cafe.

This is my breakfast burrito with eggs, potatoes, beans, tomatos and turkey chorizo.

At the other end of the gathering, Leslie’s brother Brian and my son Ken. As we age we think it unfortunate that the only time we get family together is funerals and weddings.

Magnolia is a local hangout on the hiway, but I discovered this particular Sunday that the tourists have discovered it too. They tend to stay downtown, but I saw New York license plates and plenty of cars with skis on top. I complain but I shouldn’t. I know what it is like to try and make a go of a business in  a small town like Murphys.

Then, on March 21st, I went downtown to check out Murphys Irish Day. They have a parade and all types of food and drink from both locals and out-of-towners who bring their wares to tempt us all.

Irish Day is now sponsored by the Community Club. They have permission from Cal-Trans to paint a couple of huge four leaf clovers on he street. It wasn’t always so. Jim Riggs, a local businessman and his buddy Bob Bliss,g four-leaf clover, and then have a whoop-de-do at his place of business with corned beef and whatever anyone wanted to share. One year, the Highway Patrol lay in wait and he was  arrested, but Judge Airola dismissed the case and let  him out with orders: “Do not paint the street again-this year.” After drinking a good bit of beer, the line was often pretty crooked, but we did have fun. Now, it’s a big shindig, pretty tidy and raises money for local causes.

My favorite part of Irish Days used to be the parade.

And having assisted in several of them in the past, I especially appreciate the horses. It was a struggle at times to afford the insurance to have horses in the parades, especially since some of the old cowhands, half tanked up, used to gallop at the end of the parade and then nose through the swinging doors of he Murphys Hotel and order a drink from their horse. Another arrest put a stop to that practice.

The wild has gone out of the west in some respects but we do appreciate the tidy pooper-scooper who follows the horses and puts things right again.

Now my favorite part of Irish Days is the food choices. Oh, my. Where else are you going o find Asian fusion barbecue chicken on a stick and bacon wrapped bratwurst in the same booth?

And, Dogz On The Run. (Gotta feed the kids, too.)

And, chocolate dipped goodies. Hey, why not. Ever since some guy decided to deep fry a twinkie dipped and fried treats abound.

Now, let me tell you, I like ‘em all. But, poor me, I’m having a bit of stomach trouble and couldn’t eat or drink anything at the street fair. I was bummed about that.

No Ethnic group was left out.

I couldn’t manage a green beer, but green lemonade?  It’s okay. But I passed.

I did some people watching…

A lot of people really get into the spirit of the day, and dress the part.

This guy told me his wife did his tattoo. Neat, with cool  green shoes. St. Paddy woulda been proud if he was sober.

I might go back for that free beer. I need a sign like that.

Now this is something every good beer drinker needs for his kegger party. Yeah!

The green wig reminded me of the purple one I bought for Mardi Gras, still in the Motor Home. I should have chosen green, then it would be good for two festivals.

I looked into every booth. There were over 200 of them. These crystal pieces caught my eye because I have a friend who beads. They were quite nice, but I have enough jewelry that I already don’t wear.

I liked this multi-media painting from the Bonsack Gallery because that is how I used to swing as a kid. High enough to turn upside down. Check out the band-aid on her knee.

She and her husband are both locals. They have two galleries, one locally in Arnold. Her paintings tend to go right off the canvas.




Well, I had a lot of fun. Saw a lot of fun costumes, people and some good music.

For me, there is always something that triggers a past memory. I once had a friend, Lila Suiter, a Commander in the Navy who used to say, especially when she had one too many cocktails, “When I retire, I’m going to raise Miniature Mediterranean Donkeys.”  This miniature pony reminded me of Lila. Salud! Old friend.

NO PARADE BUT GOT THE GHOST STORY.

Today is St. Patrick’s Day, celebrated in Murphys yesterday. Since my mail is by the pound, I read a notice the parade would be on Sunday. I stumbled onto the corrected date in a later notice. Went late, missed the parade, had a good beer, enjoyed the green hair, the bands, and best of all, I got a ghost story.


Not everyone wears green hair, of course, but everyone has fun. I know this guy is bald, so he enjoyed his hair and later let everyone try it on.


Others take their costumes seriously, as this young man very authentically dressed.


At 3:30 in the afternoon, the pony rides were starting to pack up and leave.


The main band stand on the street was  still pumping out tunes.


There were a lot of places to sit, and Jan and I enjoyed a huge pretzel at Cactus Jacks. I had my first dark beer since getting home. The woman on the right is holding the tallest green margarita I’ve ever seen. They were all over town.


Jack’s rock band was so loud and the dance floor so crowded, we sat outside and still had to shout at each other to be heard.


Jan doesn’t drink but a sip of wine now and then. She is Italian so I had to take her picture by this barrel.  Every time I come home, there is a new tasting room in Murphys.


Newsome-Harlow’s courtyard had a good band.


Their courtyard is a pleasant place to sip and chat. The fire was going in the pits, even though the weather was perfect.


Jan found a dragonfly to put in her pond.


I found some cute bird houses, but didn’t buy. I liked the idea of a waterproof roof.


We got to the end of the street, Tom Scheller, the owner of the IDEA store, pointed out some fun stuff he added to his building, which is the old International Order of Oddfellows building from the Gold Rush days. A woman standing nearby said, Have you heard about the ghost?”  Me:  “What ghost?”


Tom was getting his stuff moved back inside, ready to close up for the day. Tom and I were in Murphys Merchants Association together many years ago. He bought the building 37 years ago and I’ve been in Murphys 35 years. I regard Tom as a down-to-earth credible guy. Hey, Tom?
This is the story he told me. “I’ve always heard creakings and what sounded like footsteps in this old building,  mostly when I went upstairs. He took Jan and I to his side door where the stairs can be reached from the outside, and a second door leads to his main display downstairs. “I had just locked my outside door. The door to my showroom was closed. I started up the stairs and I heard heavy footsteps coming downstairs. I backed off and decided to turn around when a whoosh of cold air hit me, the footsteps passed me and I heard a click of my  showroom door as though something passed through it. I’ve had people get spooked when visiting the upstairs showroom over the years, they described it as a feeling of someone watching them. I’ve always ignored it. But, we’ve had some activity downstairs too.  I or my employees have been sitting behind the counter, working on the computer or whatever, and papers will be picked up off the top of a file cabinet and dropped to the floor. Things have moved off the shelf and been dropped on the floor. We always joked about a ghost. We have a non-smoking environment here, but I’ll open up some mornings and find a wisp of cigarette smoke hanging in the far left corner of my shop. Then one day, a physic, who was touring with some people, looked up and said, you have a ghost, his name is Joe, he is sitting right there. She pointed to where I see the smoke periodically. I was still a bit skeptical but one day, I was doing some remodeling upstairs and I opened up the floor boards and found three bricks, one imprinted with the name Joe. I’m convinced now that I have a ghost.” (Me too.)

MURPHYS IRISH DAY CELEBRATION

This is a view of Murphys Irish Day around noon. People were bundled up but still determined to have a great day, and, they did.

 

That is because earlier, at 9:00, volunteers were out shoveling the white stuff off the streets. Then, once shoveled, where do you put it?  

It had to go somewhere, so it kind of lay piled around in mounds here and there. I saw a few snowball fights, but the kids were respectful and took their fun away from people and onto lawns or side streets.
At the beginning of March, in preparation for this day, the street was painted with two huge clovers and the space between the double lines was painted green for the length of Main St. This is done legally, now. It wasn't always so. The guys who started this affair, Jim Riggs and Bob Bliss,  would invite people over to Riggs Beauty Salon for corned beef sandwiches and beer. Then about midnight, after they'd had plenty of  liquid courage, they'd paint the single yellow line green with the help of anyone else willing to face arrest if caught.  The powers that be laid in wait and caught Jim Riggs, arrested him, and put him in jail one year. The judge was friendly to one of the outstanding merchants, movers and shakers about town, and Jim was released the next morning without charges being filed.  They finally made a deal to everyone's satisfaction, and the practice continues to this day.

The local booths provided good eats and drinks of all kinds. The churches brought home made soda bread and  pies to sell.  The nearby Congregational Church held a pancake breakfast. The Native Sons provided corned beef sandwiches and green beer. There was all manner of barbeque, chicken, fries, corn dogs and other good stuff. I opted to get warm at the pancake breakfast and just missed the parade.

The last event of the parade is the manure scoopers with their little green wagon and shovel, but I couldn't see any horses. I think it must have been a short parade this year.

 Cute glasses.

 The old foggie club.

 I enjoyed the green trappings.

Meeting old friends. Glen Berry is once again President of the Native Sons, he told me to be sure and tell my son, Ken. (They're old school chums.)

And young girls looking for an older boy than the one interested in them.

And the music. They had an Irish band, but this guy with his hammer dulcimer was fascinating to watch and hear.

Here is a very short sample. I was sorry I cut it off so soon.