Live & Kern

Many months ago, a stranger asked for my help to identify the date, place and opponent of a Rams football game he had attended nearly 60 years ago.

And I found it.

On the 60-year anniversary of that game, my new friend Joe e-mailed me to say thanks again.

Thanks to your investigative reporting on my behalf, I learned that the date of the first RAMS game I ever saw was Sept. 7, 1950. SIXTY years ago today, an occasion marked by the fact that Deacon Dan Towler gave me a chin-strap (leather, of course). Again, I appreciate your efforts.

Keep up the great work.

Sincerest regards,
Joe

Another successful case closed.

There are new helium-filled balloons next door. This time they’re Mylar — maybe they’ll last longer than the “regular” kind? Or mean something different?

If this car was there when I pulled into the parking lot, I did not see it. Camouflage is tricky like that.

Last week, Lindsey reached into my brain, pulled out some of the goop and turned it into a blog post. (It’s nearly the same blog post I started back in March and still have saved as a draft. But hers is much better.)

It’s entirely comforting and discouraging to find out there are other people on this ship.

This is my mother’s neurotic rotweiler, Missy. She may be my mother’s dog, but loves me the most. There’s no logical reason why.

She’s not the dog I fuss over the most. But when I’m at my mother’s, Missy follows me everywhere. She only goes outside when I go out with her. She only eats when I stand near her. She only goes to bed when I go to bed (she does take more naps than I do) and sleeps on my feet. She gets up when I get up. She barks and carries on when she’s kenneled and can’t see me, which has earned her the nickname Pissy Missy.

She even pines for me when I leave.

Missy, however, is a silly name for a dog. I usually call her Gidget (because it just seems more appropriate).