Saints Be Praised!

Holy ethnic stereotypes, Batman! The Chief of Police is an Irishman! And so is everyone else in yesterday's puzzle. (Also, the guy who bought Central Park.)

Everybody in the following picture is named "O'Hara."



Panel 1 is Bob Wall, playing the scar-faced O'Hara who is Mr. Han's most evil henchman. (If he has a first name, I am not aware of it.) If you haven't seen "Enter the Dragon," you must immediately stop whatever you're doing and go watch it. You will be amazed.

Anyway, on Han's island, O'Hara is feared by all -- but Bruce Lee effortlessly takes him apart. In real life, Bob Wall was a bona fide karate champion, but he will always be best remembered for O'Hara's disgraceful treachery.

The pretty O'Hara is Maggie Lawson from the series "Psych." She plays Juliet O'Hara, the ace police detective who becomes Shawn Spencer's love interest. (Side question: How come "Shawn" is pronounced the same as "Sean"? Does Mr. Connery know that he could have chosen to spell his name the way it actually sounds? But I digress: today's topic is about the Irish, not the Scots.)

Panel 3 contains David Janssen in a still from the show "O'Hara: US Treasury." I'm sure most of you were thinking of "The Fugitive," which was the show he did that was actually good. But it wasn't his only starring role, just as "The Fugitive" movie was not the only thing that starred that other Irish fellow, O'Harrison Ford.

And of course, the fellow to the far right is that stalwart representative of Gotham City's Finest -- Chief O'Hara. I'm sure he performed many civic duties, and guided the police force with admirable leadership...but we hardly ever got to see him do anything other than utter Irish epithets while standing in the background while the Commissioner was on the BatPhone. Faith and Begorra!

The Heggy family connection to Chief O'Hara is admittedly an esoteric and tenuous one. The role was played by actor Stafford Repp...and my dad, Compton E. Heggy, was born and raised in the town of Stafford, Kansas. It is a small agricultural town about 100 miles west of Wichita, and is a site I was forced to involuntarily visit many times in my youth, usually on Memorial Day -- which always included a mandatory visit to the cemetery, a concept that baffled and perplexed my youthful mind. (Hey, if you don't want your energetic kids to disrespect the departed, then you shouldn't haul them off to a place that's full of nice "rocks" that are just the right height for climbing and jumping.)

Anyway, I'm sure Stafford is a swell place, but I can't think of a single reason to urge you to go there. But at least I've done my civic duty in that you now are aware that such a place exists. But if you want a worthwhile tourist experience in Kansas, go see the World's Largest Prairie Dog, near the town of Oakley. Or perhaps the Big Well in Greensburg. Or Terry Heggy's birthplace in Hutchinson.

Or on second thought, maybe you should just take a trip to pretty much anywhere in Colorado. Enjoy your travels, and have a great day!

Golden

I like McDonalds.

My son (and his commie hippie friends) all think that McDonalds (and WalMart) are the epitome of evil...and that capitalism itself is a million times worse than the oppression caused by Hitler, Pol Pot, Kim Jong Whatever, and all the world's ayatollahs combined. If they were educated enough to know who he was, they would probably blame Ray Kroc for every regrettable thing from the extinction of the dinosaurs to the rise of the Kardashians.

I disagree. I think people who serve economical and tasty sandwiches and salads are a valuable asset to the world.

And as a person who worked for McDonalds back in my youth, I have to say that my employment there provided knowledge and experience that I consider the foundation of my development as a contributor to the USA's gross national product. I also learned how to use a spatula.

Perhaps I'll share some of my stories from those days in a future post. Good times, those were. And I got free Big Macs.

Anyway, the point is that yesterday's puzzle was about "arches."



As I suspected, everyone found this one to be easy. (And for the same reason, I feel no need to discuss the bullet point quotes. Although, if anyone has ever heard the word "stately" used to describe something other than Wayne Manor, please let me know.)

Panel 1 is comic character Archie Andrews, who was pretty stupid, but did have a Top 40 radio hit back in the 60s..

The football guy is Archie Manning, who is famous for being Peyton's father. As a parent myself, I certainly understand how proud a father can be when his son gets to move from some crummy state to live in Colorado. I'm sure Archie considers Peyton's move to Denver as the family's most significant accomplishment.

Archie Bunker is famous for being the stepfather of the Meathead, who directed "The Princess Bride" and "This is Spinal Tap." Today's interesting relatable factoid is that Mr. Bunker was played by Carroll O'Conner, back when naming a boy "Carroll" was considered acceptable. In fact, the Ken Caryl Ranch (the lovely neighborhood just south and west of the Foothills Park and Rec District) was named after a guy named Kent Shaffer and his brother Carroll. They changed the spellings for the same reason The Monkees and Def Leppard did.

The last panel is obviously the St. Louis arch, which features one of the most interesting elevator rides you will ever take. It is the one and only cool thing in the entire state of Missouri.

As for the Tuco connection, you'd have to remember what he was doing in the scene depicted:



The gold was hidden in a grave, so Tuco had to search the entire cemetery to find the name he sought, giving us the opportunity to listen to one of the great movie songs of all time.



The grave he was looking for belonged to Arch Stanton. Of course the gold turned out to NOT be buried there, but...well, I won't share the spoiler. But it is an amazing movie, with Eli Wallach's acting standing the test of time as perhaps the greatest performance ever.



I found out about Heggie's Rock when I was doing some genealogical research on my family's history. It turns out that distant forebears were from the Heggie clan in Fife, Scotland. The spelling was changed to the "y" ending in the mid 1800s, probably due to simple illiteracy.

Heggie's Rock is a 130 acre outcrop in Columbia County, about 20 miles from Augusta, GA. The Nature Conservancy has created a Preserve that encompasses about 101 acres of that outcrop. Heggie's Rock was designated a National Natural Landmark in 1980, one of only 10 such designations in Georgia. It is named for Archibald Heggie, a Scot who acquired the property around 1808 through his wife, Martha Ramsey, whose grandfather built a grist mill on nearby Little Kiokee Creek.

I've never been there, but it's one of the landmarks on my bucket list. I'm sure I'll write about it after I've taken the tour. Stay tuned for that.

In the meantime, I have a slightly more challenging puzzle for you today. What do these folks have in common?



The extra credit question for today will probably only be answerable by my siblings, but I'll throw it out there anyway. How does the last panel relate to our family's genealogy? (If anybody outside the clan gets that one, I'll be amazed.)

As always, thanks for dropping by. (And by the way, we're only about a month away from Shamrock Shake season. Whoo hoo!) Have a great day!

Something Easy

It seems that some of you haven't been playing along with our graphical quizzes. The reasons vary -- from "They are always too stupid" to "Gimme a break, ya bleedin' maroon; I'm not freakin' Rainman."

OK, I will admit that sometimes the challenges require knowledge of some pretty obscure trivia. To me, that's the fun of it. But I do want everyone to be able to participate...so for at least a little while, I'm going to lob some softballs at you.

First, we'll begin with some word puzzles. Correct the following TV-related phrases:

1. Stately Wayne Newton
2. Commerce Bank of Beverly D'Angelo
3. When Polly's in trouble, I am not slow. It's hip hip hip to be square.
4. To boldly go where no man has gonorrhea
5. ...fights a never-ending battle for truth, justice, and the American Idol

OK, now we'll try a simple graphical puzzle. What do these four images have in common?



For extra credit, how does this image relate to the answer to the puzzle? (Hint, it derives from the plot; it's not about the actor.)



And for extra super-duper bonus point credit, how does the answer to the puzzle relate to this famous landmark?



OK, that's all for today. I hope everyone found today's challenges to be as easy as...well, you know. In any case, I've already started working on upcoming puzzles, too. I hope you'll return soon to enjoy those as well. Have a great day!

Psycho Ward

As you know, my college degree is from the famous William Allen White School of Journalism. You may not know that while I wholeheartedly support freedom of the press, I generally detest the way journalism is practiced in this country. There seems to be very little unbiased reporting to be found, and most of what the newsmongers choose to report is selected because it feeds their pathological need to create fear and panic and scandal.

I hate that.

I blame Woodward and Bernstein. (I also have a low opinion of Woodwinds and the Berenstain Bears, but that's a different topic altogether.) But my latest motivation for old-man ranting comes from the unfortunate need for people to identify scandals by attaching the word "gate" to whatever word serves as the scandal's maguffin. The latest example is "Deflate-gate." Grauggh.

First of all, there is not one single person outside of the media who thinks the Colts would've beaten the Patriots if there had been a few more ounces of air in the balls. Not one.

And second, well...just shut up about it. I'd rather talk about baseball at this point. After all, the Rockies are undefeated in 2015 so far.

Besides, isn't a "water gate" more properly referred to as a "valve," anyway? And if Elvis thinks Nixon is OK, well, who am I to argue?

Anyway, none of that has anything to do with today's topic, which is these guys:



The first panel contains famed cowboy actor Ward Bond. As far as I know, he is not related to 007, nor to Julian, nor to anyone named Gold. But even though many of you did not recognize him, you are certainly familiar with the significant impact his role in "It's a Wonderful Life" had on PBS.



Bond played Bert, the cop...who was friends with Ernie, the cab driver. Those characters inspired the eponymous gay puppets on Sesame Street. I don't see the resemblance, myself, but...whatever.

The puzzle's second panel contains the answer TWICE. The character sliding down the batpole is Bruce Wayne's youthful ward, Dick Grayson. The bonus arises from the fact that the character was played by actor Burt Ward, who has NO relationship with Sesame Street, as far as I know.

And here's the thought that inspired the puzzle in the first place. I was watching Batman, and found myself wondering how a person becomes a ward to a millionaire in the first place. Is it like being adopted? And what do you call the adult in that situation...the "warden"? If it's a parental relationship, then wouldn't Bruce Wayne be subject to scrutiny from Social Services? I'd think they'd absolve the relationship based on making the kid wear green shoes and a cape...much less subjecting him to fistfights with hardened criminals and weekly bouts with inescapable death devices.

Holy child abuse, Batman! Anyway...back to the puzzle.

The football player is Hines Ward. He was named after his father, Hines Ward, Sr...but I have no earthly idea what Granpappy Ward was thinking when he came up with the name Hines for his kid. I'm pretty sure it had nothing to do with John Kerry's ketchup company.

The last panel contains Hugh Beaumont, the actor who played the world's greatest father, Ward Cleaver. His TV wife was named "June" -- and I guess when you think about it, naming someone after a month is just about as odd as calling them Hines. But "June" is positively benign when compared to being called "Beaver" or "Wally."

Oh well, I suppose "Terry" isn't exactly an impressive name, either. At least they haven't named any Sesame Street characters after me.

Anyway, thanks for playing. Have a great day!

D5W

Why is Terry like Dracula's bed?

They're both a coffin. (Ar ar.)

Ugh. Sorry about that. But yeah, I'm still coughing with regularity. The good news is that I feel pretty good, and have actually been able to exercise a bit.

I expect to be fully functional by the end of the week. But man, it has been a long road back. If I am to perform at a reasonable level during any summer races, I am facing a daunting to-do list for achieving the fitness I'm going to need. The good news is that I can think of nothing I'd rather be doing. I can't wait to get outdoors to run, ride, and swim in the open water! Bring on the Springtime!

Yes, I do recognize that it's only January. But sometimes it actually gets pretty warm in January. Hey, the sun is shining today...and besides -- I have multiple pairs of long underwear.

For today, though, I thought I'd share some of the thoughts I had while sitting at home feeling punky with this respiratory crud. All I felt like doing was watching TV, and the only TV worth watching tended to be the reruns on MeTV. More about that in a second...

But first let me ask you a question. Can you name the significant people who have influenced your life, and turned you into the person you are today? It's an interesting thing to think about.

For me, there are several that come to mind quickly. Doug Sidles and Bill Spahn, of course, who were my primary role models for coaching swimming. Before that, there was Major Astro, who got me interested in science and knowledge. And my parents, who took me on vacation to Colorado in the summers, which convinced me to escape from Kansas at the first available opportunity. Those were all tremendously positive influences that I shall always greatly appreciate.

But my "sick time" last week made it obvious to me how much I was influenced by my college roommate, Mickey. If it weren't for him, I probably would've developed refined tastes and upscale sensibilities. If it weren't for him, I may have achieved sophisticated wit and intellectual prominence. I might have been an influential member of high society.

But no. Instead, I became a guy who watches Green Acres episodes over and over again. Sigh. Because of Mickey, I am now a middle-aged couch potato who is perfectly content to watch 60s and 70s TV shows ad infinitum. (Except for Gilligan's Island -- that show totally sucks.)

You probably knew that already. It's not a secret. And to tell you the truth, I'm actually quite proud of the number of TV show guest stars I can identify from memory. It's too bad there is no demand for a profession guest-star identifier, because I'm pretty sure I could get the job. Instead, though, I am forced to slave away as a proposal editor.



Anyway, while some people ponder the meaning of life, the intricacies of global politics, or the architectural possibilities inherent in the Fibonacci sequence, I tend to think about how TV shows trigger deep and profound thoughts about language, family structure, and religion.

I'll share what I mean tomorrow. Part of the answer is contained in the following graphical quiz. Can you identify the common element that binds these folks? (Hint: one of the photos has a double application of the answer.) Click to embiggen.



In the meantime, I expect to continue to breathe easier as each hour passes by. Perhaps tomorrow, I'll be able to function without phlegm.

I hope you are feeling fantastic as you solve this simple puzzle. Enjoy yourself, and have a great day!

No Horseplay, Maggots!

My first day in the lifeguard chair ended with no fatalities. No injuries at all, as a matter of fact -- unless you count the fact that my feet are sore from walking on concrete all morning.

The best news is that I am feeling much better. The infernal plague that has congested my chest for the last 3 weeks seems to be weakening.

I'm even planning to try to RUN a bit tomorrow morning. Not much, just a bit. But it's something.

Anyway, here are my quick observations and reflections after one entire day of saving lives:

1. It's really important to not let yourself go. Watching folks struggle to make up for life's previous excesses and neglect is a sobering experience. Right this moment, I am as fat, weak, and decrepit as I ever want to be. Watching some of this morning's patrons has made me redouble my commitment to get back in shape and take better care of myself.
2. I need better footwear if I'm gonna be standing around for extended periods.
3. The Ridge really is a nice facility, and the staff (as a general rule) are pretty good to work with.
4. My plan to use my "down" time to catch up on emails and stuff isn't going to work. The guard room wifi is too weak for my stupid tablet to connect. I could probably use my phone (like the kids do), but my trifocals really perform better with the larger screen.
5. Pretty much EVERYBODY needs help with their swimming.

That's about it. I feel good today, and am looking forward to the weekend. It's SO nice to be back into the routine. And even though I didn't do it for the first three weeks of 2015, it is definitely time to start "Keeping Pace."

Have a great day!

(Photo credit: Reynold Kalstrom)

Squad 51, Investigate the Situation at the Pool

Well, it appears that the Broncos have once again ignored my advice, and Mr. Tebow continues to NOT be employed at Mile High Stadium. Sigh.

On the other hand, I do like Gary Kubiak (not pictured here). Whether he's the guy to get them to the next level remains to be seen. I'm guessing that next year will NOT be a SuperBowl year.

But enough of that. Let's talk lifeguarding! I'm starting this week!

After I passed the training class, the management at the Ridge let me know that they were SO desperate for guards they were even willing to take an old fat guy with questionable people skills and the memory of a, uh, well...I forget.

Most of the other guards are very nice, and will help me acclimate to the new job, I'm sure. I'm barely being paid enough to buy a Taco Bell meal every four hour shift, so my spending habits are unlikely to change any time soon, and my retirement date will remain so far in the future that we'll have hoverboards and self-inflating jackets, and we'll eat at Max Headroom nostalgia cafes. It's a long way off.

Still, I intend to savor the authority and absolute POWER that lifeguards have. I've been practicing my James Earl Jones compliance voice for the last week or so. ("Stop running, or I shall destroy you!" "No splashing, you insignificant speck of pond scum!" etc.)

For now, though, I'm sorry to report that my lung congestion remains, and I still haven't resumed my normal activity level. I thought my immune system was unbreakable, but have found that it seems to have left for Australia or something. It's very frustrating.

As I try to rest and recover, I will leave you with a short musical segment that explains the process of becoming a lifeguard. After watching this and knowing what skills I now have, perhaps you'll pay more attention to my coaching directions, too.

Enjoy, and have a great day!

Oh, the Pain!

Before I start whining, let me first acknowledge that the sun is shining, and temperatures are warming up. Gas is less than 2 bucks a gallon (sorry, Mickey), and I just received word that I am enrolled in the 2015 Triple Bypass bike ride.

Many things are going well. Our swim team is growing, and some of the new folks are going to fit in very well. I still have a job, and entertaining Mohammad cartoons are abundant. Life is good.

My triathlon training hasn't been all that zippy, though. The unfriendly weather, my recent chest cold, and my unfortunate lack of internal fortitude have combined to keep me from achieving expected fitness and performance levels. And then there's my inherent clumsiness...

As I mentioned yesterday, there was a minor incident involving a rather violent impact between my foot and a concrete pool bottom. I'm sure that Franklin D. Azar would blame 24-Hour Fitness for the negligent act of having a too-shallow pool, but let's face it -- someone who has spent as much time in pools as I have should be able to adapt to whatever depth the facility offers. I should've been able to stand up in the lane without whacking the bottom with Lou Groza leg speed.

It does hurt. Fortunately, the pain should not prevent me from running or biking. Putting on socks is difficult, yes, and rolling over under the covers can cause a yelp or two...but general daily activities don't seem to be a problem -- once my feet are successfully inside the shoes.

So, with the Triple Bypass officially on my calendar, and the siren song lure of triathlons upon the wind, it is definitely time to saddle up and start putting in the miles. I appreciate any encouragement and motivation you can give me, up to and including a nice firm "Shut up, Dr. Smith!" whenever I start to whine too much. As always, your support is appreciated. Have a great day!

Mélange

What would you call an eclectic collection of macabre short stories? A Poe-pourri, of course.

What filing category would you use for storing information on an assortment of Titan, Minuteman, and Peacekeeper rocket engines?
Missle-laneous.

What do you call a cast-off relic that has no utility in the modern world, and will be quickly forgotten?
John Fox.

What? Too soon? Sorry.

I also would've accepted "Captain Dunsel." Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is that today's entry is a mishmash of non-related topics, mostly related to my ongoing feebleness and inability to function as a productive member of society. I still have a cough, some general physical weakness, and some lingering fuzziness in the brainpan.

But that's not the worst of it. Last night as I crawled into bed, I discovered that becoming supine had the side effect of re-organizing the fluids that my chest cold had generated. A violent coughing spasm broke out, and before it was finished, I felt a stabbing pain in my side.

I think I cracked a rib.

Good lord. Seriously? I'm that fragile now? I try really hard to take in the nutrients that keep one's body intact, and I supplement with all the recommended vitamins and minerals. My ribs should be strong and flexible. And honestly, I shouldn't even be able to catch a stinking cold. My immune system should reject viruses the way cheerleader Marti Willis rejected my prom invitation in high school. Mercilessly.

[Well, OK, I didn't actually have the courage to ask any girls for dates in high school. But we all know what would've happened if I did.]

The sad thing is that a cracked rib is not the worst of it. This morning I was swimming to cool down after my rather mellow plyometrics workout when I had another coughing attack. I stopped swimming and stood up in the lane...but misjudged the depth of the water. It was shallower than I thought, and my Morton's toe smacked the bottom with painful force. Ouch!

I don't think I broke it, but my toe is very tender right now. It may not have been too awfully bad if that were the only thing that had happened, but last week I had injured the same toe by stupidly walking into the protruding foot of the lifeguard chair on the pool deck. (In my defense, I was paying attention during my class, and was maneuvering for a better view. The swine lifeguard chair was not in its normal position because of the "rescue jump" drills we were doing.) Arghh.

Hmm. Maybe it IS broken. Sure hurts.

Anyway, on a completely different topic, I wanted to let you know about my latest scientific experiment. Here's the background: During the last cold snap, my car's windshield developed a thick sheet of ice on the inside of the car. I'm sure this is the result of me bringing wet swimsuits (and frequently a wet head and damp towel, too) into the car after my workouts. Humidity builds up in there, and it takes some serious effort from the defroster to regain visibility when it freezes on the windshield. (You can't scrape it; access is horrendous, and it would leave streaks that would be hard to eradicate.)

My experimental solution involves technology -- An off-the-shelf dehumidifier, to be precise. These babies are supposed to suck the water out of the air and leave your car's interior bone dry. And then, when the device has reached it limit, you "renew" it by plugging it into a standard household outlet, where it heats up to release the moisture into the air. (I'll do that in the room where I keep my guitar. Extra humidity is good for keeping the instrument from developing cracks.)

Both my wet swimsuit and my dehumidifier are sitting in my car today. If the experiment works, then I'll be able to drive home tonight without interior ice. If not, then I guess I'll go back to the "sit there until the heater can blast away the frost" strategy. I'll let you know.

Otherwise, my challenge for the day is to get work done without coughing too violently...or banging my toes into anything. Wish me luck, and have a great day!

PS. I think Tim Tebow should be the new Broncos coach. Do you agree?

100 x 100s

It's my favorite workout of the year! 10,000 yards of 100-yard repeats -- it's kindof my specialty. I usually get stronger as the workout goes on, and really try to blast the last 10 100s or so.

But I missed it this year. I have a cold.

The first symptoms hit as last weekend was winding down. I'm pretty sure my immune system had been compromised by the ordeal of getting through the lifeguard class (hours of shivering in cold water) and by the mental strain of dealing with cold and ugly weather. I was tired and uncomfortable for an entire week, and apparently that was enough to let the virus get a toe in the door.

The progression was predictable from Sunday night through Wednesday. It starts with slightly raw sinus feelings that make you wonder if it's on the way, followed by full nasal distress, and finally the lungs are full of silly putty that has to be coughed out with increasingly violent involuntary chest spasms. Not much fun in Stalingrad.

The good news is that it wasn't the flu. I had some minor brain aches along the way, but no fever, chills, or stomach problems. I was able to continue functioning, though at a scaled-back level. By Saturday, I felt good enough to sit on the spin bike for a bit, and then go to swim practice.

I felt good in the water, and left the pool feeling that the 100 x 100s workout would be no problem. I finished the day with my normal tradition of watching "Sci-Fi Saturday on MeTV (including "The Squire of Gothos"), and went to bed.

Apparently, being supine throughout the night had loosened up the silly putty...and when I attempted to swim on Sunday morning, I could do nothing other than cough. It is quite difficult to hold an interval when you can't draw a breath without hacking up hairballs. I gave up.

I stuck around to watch some of the other swimmers finish, and then made my way to the swim team party. It was a fabulous party, and even included birthday cake! I won't bore you with details, but I will say that it was a good example of why being on the Foothills Masters Swim Team is such a delightful and fulfilling experience.

Despite my lingering cold, though, it's definitely time to start thinking about getting 2015 into high gear. I hope to focus much more on training over the next few months. This dreary weather can't last forever; I want to start spending more time outside -- doing stuff!

First, though, I need more rest...so my immune system can do its thing. And maybe I'll still be able to do a hundred hundreds at some point before the month is out. We'll see.

In the meantime, thanks to everyone who did participate in the swim or the party this weekend. You are all awesome, and you inspire me. Thanks, and have a great day!

Happy New Year!

My new year's resolution for 2015 is to write my end-of-year blog sometime before December 31st. I did not hit that target in 2014. Sorry.

Nor did I accomplish any of my other resolutions. Not a single one. I'm still a slacker -- every bit as fat, slow, and annoying as I was last January. The high achievers among you will probably point out that I just need to be motivated to work harder and achieve more. But I think a far more reasonable solution is to write less ambitious goals for the year. In fact, I should probably restrict myself to setting goals that will be accomplished automatically.

For example: "Get one year older." Yeah, I can do that. "Avoid sushi, haggis, and ambergris sandwiches." Done. "Make it through the year without kissing Heather Locklear or Jennifer Aniston." Well...we'll see.

Actually, all of last years goals remain things I'd like to accomplish. I still have the desire to become more fit and competitive, and to accomplish personal projects. I'd like to take more pictures, make more movies, and write more blogs. I'd like to be more creative, and be more of a positive influence on my son, my co-workers, and my dear friends from the swim team.



Perhaps I'll even leverage my recent personal trainer certification to help a few new people achieve their fitness goals. And maybe I should learn a few jokes so I can make people laugh (at something other than my inept yoga poses and decrepit running form.)

Yet despite my failure to hit my 2014 resolution targets, I'd have to say that the last year contained many highlights and successes. Achieving my coaching and training certifications were significant milestones. So were the Milwaukee triathlon, the trips to Wall Drug and Santa Monica, and even some of the experiences in the world of online dating. I continued to enjoy my corporate job, and continued to benefit and grow from my association with the outstanding athletes I get to swim, bike, and run with. If 2015 is the same as 2014, I'll be a happy camper.

But I'm expecting it to be a lot better. In summary, I really do appreciate your continued patronage, and I sincerely hope you'll continue to visit from time to time in the coming year. I hope your January is off to a fabulous start. Stay warm, my friends, and have a great day!