Dear dad got a duck for Father’s Day. Not because he hunts, but because I wanted to go with a traditional Father’s Day image, which leaves us with a mere three choices: ducks, neckties or a pipe (the smoking kind, not the type that you use to bash in a skull).
Dad was fascinated with his duck, even though he admitted at first glance he thought it a pelican. He also promised not to let the darling duck befall the same fate as the chicken I made my mom for Mother’s Day.
WARNING: The following sequence of photos contains disturbing images.
Some of you may have seen this horrific montage which I posted around Mother’s Day, but I post it again in the hopes of saving chickens who cross the road in the future.
Mom claims she was trying to help the chicken cross the road, but these photos disclose otherwise.
What did you get your dad for Father’s Day? A duck? A necktie? A pipe?
This fun Odd Pueblo feature asks the audience to rate a trend, topic or sighting of something around town: is it snappy or crappy?
Since none of you seemed too enamored by the severed javelina head posted in the previous Snappy or Crappy, I’ve come up with something more subdued.
This bugged out Volkswagon bug was spotted in a midtown Target parking lot. While the owner was nowhere to be found, there were several kids standing around marveling at the thing.
My vote is definitely snappy.
Remember, I’m not asking if you’d drive the thing, especially since it looks like it wouldn’t have working air conditioning. I’m just asking if you find it funky or junky, crappy or snappy.
What do you think? Please respond:
a. Snappy. Totally reminds me of my drugged-out days in the late 60s, totally.
b. Crappy. What a hunk of junk.
c. I would love to date someone who owned that thing but I wouldn’t want it myself.
d. That’s my car!
Anyone who spent their weekend lazing on a hammock, I envy you. Mine was largely spent bent over shards of metal fashioning them into freaky pieces. If I didn’t love creating art, I’d be really cranky right about now. And yes, I know I still owe someone some evil windchimes – next weekend, promise!
Much of the haul from the past two weeks is going to the creative folks for review at Bohemia: An Artisans Emporium. Hopefully they’ll find them dashing and include them in their stock. If not, my yard will be even more like Candyland.
Would also enjoy any reader comments, if you have any. Here’s some options to get the juices flowing:
a. These are so cool I want to fall over.
b. These are so ugly I want to fall over.
c. My bird needs three of the “Beware of Bird” signs because he tries to poke out people’s eyeballs.
d. My gerbil bit me and it made me accidentally kill him.
e. My cat pukes all the time and I always step in it in the middle of the night.
Tucson is not unique for having single shoes pop up all over the place. What is unique may be the frequency – and places – they pop up.
Anyone who has ever lost sleep wondering where these single shoes come from will be able to rest easy tonight.
The lone shoe on the side of the road:
This is an easy one. Dozens of pedestrians are hit every year here in Old Pueblo, some violently enough to get knocked out of their shoe. Many decide to cross the street willy-nilly while wearing dark clothing and avoiding crosswalks. Some trample across the road, totally ignoring any oncoming traffic, and glare at the drivers as if daring them to hit them. Others, sadly, are hit by people who are drunk, drugged, stupid or just don’t know how to drive.
The lone shoe in the wash:
These are from murder victims.
The lone shoe in the Rillito River bed:
Several theories behind this one. If the shoe has any blood on it, you can bet the person was attacked and consumed by a pack of coyotes. If the shoe is clean but stretched at the ankle, the person was a victim of a javelina. The javelina charged at them hard enough to knock off a shoe. If the shoe has teeth marks, the person must have been using it as a dog fetching toy but the dog got bored and simply left it in the sandy reeds.
The lone shoe in front of the police station:
The lone shoe floating down Sabino Canyon:
Another easy one, as I’ve seen it in action. A person tries to cross the stream with his shoes and socks clutched in his hand and his backpack swinging from an arm rather than properly secured on his back. He starts to tilt, loses his balance, and drops a shoe. By the time he crosses the shoe has floated far, far away and lodged itself next to a mossy rock.
The lone shoe stuck somewhere strange, like on a stick in a concrete planter on Congress Street:
Please don’t confuse the single shoe issue with the single sock issue. The missing socks are always stolen by those evil elves who live in the dryer.
Where’s the weirdest place you saw a lone shoe?
Did you ever lose a single shoe? What did you do?
Just as he was packing his tomb to move to his new home, the hunky Egyptian guy who has been seeking a cozy refuge was left in the lurch.
Magic Carpet Golf’s remaining statue, the giant sphinx, still remains.
“I just got word from the party that had committed to the sphinx and they are now backing out,” said Tucson artist Charlie Spillar, whose efforts to find homes for the gads of giant golf course statues earned him honors from the Tucson Mayor and City Council.
“Oh well, I knew it was an expensive venture. Now I have to start my search again. They had their contractors look at it and determined it was just too expensive to move and they could probably build a new one cheaper.”
Building a new one may be cheaper, but it wouldn’t have the value as a chunk of kooky Tucson history. The statues at Magic Carpet Golf, 6125 E. Speedway Blvd., were created by Lee Koplin some 30 years ago and have amused kids and adults alike for decades.
Spillar said the sphinx seemed to be taking it well, or at least the big guy kept a stony face through the emotional upheaval.