News photos that have grown whiskers and have become history
I’m 87.6% sure that the royal couple are Carol Rawlings and Mike Price.
They were CHS Class of 1964, but I didn’t find the photo in the 1963, 1964 or 1965 Girardots. There were crop marks on the margins of the photo that looked like it might have run in The Missourian, but I couldn’t find it in the Google archives.
Sorry about the crease at the bottom. The print must have been bent in storage.
If I hadn’t gotten a happy birthday message from a Facebook friend, I probably would have forgotten that March 24 is my birthday. Dad and his brothers all died by age 60, so I had a rough year expecting my number to come up in 2007.
When I hit 61, I figured there would be a chance that I might pile up a few more years. That’s one of the reasons I jumped at the chance to take a buyout and early retirement, a decision I haven’t regretted for a second when I see what has happened to newspapers.
The only problem with getting older is that it keeps getting harder and harder to get respect. Above is how my Palm Beach Post photo staff my age progression for my 40th birthday.
A former intern sent me this story about my apparent promotion.
I’ve worked hard to scan and bring to life photographs of SE Ohio for the Athens County Historical Society and Museum. What kind of respect do I get? Here’s a photo that’s on the wall of Curator Jessica’s office. The thought bubble is her creation.
For a few minutes after the alarm goes off on Birthday Morning, I’m going to be this guy.
Until, unfortunately, I heave myself out of bed, walk into the bathroom and look in the mirror at some stranger staring back at me.
Road Warriorette Shari and I rolled into Cape early Sunday evening. The 1,311-mile ride was pretty unexceptional most of the way: weather was good except for some heavy rain Saturday evening and light rain for a couple of hours Sunday morning. We DID see three unusual things Sunday afternoon.
Just south of Nashville, I saw a vehicle pulling a travel trailer slowing to a stop, so I passed him with plenty of room. Just as I got even with him, I saw flames shooting out of the left rear trailer wheel. It took 100 yards or so for me to stop and back down the shoulder to see if he was going to need an extra fire extinguisher. It turned out that he had a wheel bearing lock up, causing the grease to catch fire. Luckily, he noticed it before the tire started burning. The fire went out without us having to do anything; he called for roadside assistance, and I went on my way.
Near Paducah, I saw brake lights come on, a cloud of smoke and cars swerving. A minivan had blown a driver’s side tire. He, too, made it to the shoulder safely.
Not 30 minutes later, I was passing an 18-wheeler and saw sparks and smoke coming from under the trailer. I slowed in front of the driver, turned on my four-way flashers and motioned for him to pull over. It turned out that his spare tire had come loose and was dragging the ground. The rim bouncing up and down was causing the sparks, and the friction was causing the tire to smoke.
Actually, not a thing. I scanned this photo just before leaving West Palm Beach so I’d have something to post if I got in tired and late. I’m both.
This shows how the same photo can look entirely different depending on if you run it pretty much full frame, like at the top, or cropped in tight. The picture won prizes in Missouri and Ohio press association contests, but I don’t remember anything about what was happening here. You can click on the photos to make them larger.
Cullman, Alabama, is a good first night or last night stop for me when I’m heading to or from Cape or Florida.
I also like it because it has a couple of motels that have treated me right.
Road Warriorette Shari and I had a busy day with several highs and lows which will be recounted later. She said she’d be willing to pay more than $35.97 for a room since it was our last night. We pulled into the Comfort Suites where I have had good service in the past, but I really didn’t want to fork over $107 plus tax when there was the Sleep Inn down the hill where we had stayed on our last trip for a lot less.
We picked it the last time because Shari needed a smoking room (she’s since stopped). When we stepped into the lobby, we asked the night clerk, “Where’s Crazy Carol?”
“OMG,” the young woman said. “Carol and I were just talking about this couple who came in here and named her that. She said you were a real hoot.”
“That would probably be us,” I confessed. Then Shari and I went into our normal night clerk banter that had her in stitches. I’m not going to give away any of our lines because we may want to use them someplace else in the future.
Haley, that was her name, said, “I’m going to have to call Carol. We were just chatting when you walked up. She’s not going to believe you guys are here.”
After we checked in, I needed to get some kind of information from her, and I took along my ice bucket. “Would you demonstrate for me the proper way to apply the ice bucket condom? I’ve stayed in scores of lodgings, and after looking inside some of the ice buckets, I can appreciate why you would WANT that plastic liner, but I’ve never figured out how to unfold the darned thing, and when you DO get it in the bucket, as soon as the ice hits it, it collapses.”
With another customer watching intently, Haley gave her best Vana White ice bucket condom presentation. She got it unfolded, but it still pulled out when the ice flumpped in.
She’s not quite Crazy Carol, but she’s a close runnerup. If Crazy Carol isn’t there the next time we stop, we’ll ask for Helpful Hotel Haley. She was a nice end to a long day of driving.