The Watering Hole: April 6 — The view from the top of Cape Foulweather

Photo by Zooey

This is the view from the tiny gift shop, called The Lookout, at Cape Foulweather, Oregon.  500 feet above the beautiful blue ocean and jagged basalt rocks below, this was an amazing view on a truly brilliant day on the Oregon Coast.

It’s Friday, people.  Start thinking about your Music Night selections early!

This is our daily open thread — You know what to do.

59 thoughts on “The Watering Hole: April 6 — The view from the top of Cape Foulweather

  1. Since I’ll be at work when the official numbers break:

    US Economy Likely Added 210K Jobs in March, Fourth Straight Month of Strong Hiring

    The Republican claim that they could have done more, sooner, not only is attempting to prove a counterfactual, but also probably not wise to attempt, since gradual improvement may be more stable and long lasting. I realize there are people out there still hurting, who need a job, but they need to realize that the President can only sign legislation that the Congress passes, and the Republicans did everything they could to weaken and thwart recovery for their own benefit in the elections. It came easily for them following the 2008 elections, because they weren’t trying to help the country even before then.

    Short day today, 6 to noon. Back in a little bit, after I get the machine up and running. I’m cutting heat-treated tool steel today, and the cycle time is very long.

      • NPR was reporting the same 120k this morning. It was interesting listening to them trying to spin it into something positive, when it’s not.

  2. Makes me homesick.
    Our beaches are lined with condos, drunken sun burnt tourists and plastic litter that never breaks down.

    • Disposable diapers are de rigueur around the campfire here on the weekends, with and without the accompanying little squallers.

      • I don’t know why people do that… when we camped when our children were small, we always took those with us as well as anything else that we could gather. We had a policy of leaving a campsite cleaner than we found it.

  3. Great photo of Cape Foulweather Zooey!
    It’s a particularly tough cape, nearly impossible to get down to the beaches seen below. Just think of all the agates and otters down there…

    As a note to any and all visitors to that coast, the Cape Perpetua neighborhood has beaches both wild and accessible.

    Meanwhile I’m camped among the cottonwoods and the cowpies along the Rio Grande, readying myself to go to work on Monday.

  4. There is absolutely no truth to the rumor that the California Dairy (Happy Cows) Council wanted to call this day “Cud Friday.”

  5. Having a hard time with the Daily Mail these days for news:
    1. J Lo having her bum grabbed by her boyfriend
    2. Jennifer Love Hewitt having her boobs reduced by photoshop for her new show adverts (why would anyone want to do that?)
    3. Courtney Stodden going easter egg hunting in… her underwear
    4. And this suggestion for an alternative to church on Sunday

    Happy ‘stiff-on-a-stick’ day to you all (yes that one is a bit OTT even for me)

    • I like Jennifer Love Hewitt’s boobs and don’t care what anyone says about them. So there.

      Sounds like the photoshopped version is intended to appeal to the people who don’t like boobies or scanties — so they will watch a tv show with JLH running around showing her boobs in her scanties. Makes all the sense in the world.

  6. A.L.F.A. 40/60 HP, 1914

    “The A.L.F.A 40/60 HP was a race and road car made by A.L.F.A (later called Alfa Romeo). Its top speed was 125 km/h (78 mph). 40/60 HP production and development was interrupted by the First World War, but resumed briefly afterwards. Giuseppe Campari won the 1920 and 1921 races at Mugello with this car.”

    – Wikipedia

    • I can’t imagine why the doctors didn’t immediately induce labor. I do know how utterly awful this experience had to be. I’ve buried a lot of loved ones but the experience of the dead baby sent me somewhere I’d never been before. I’d never before actually contemplated suicide. I was too depressed to work. These laws show zero compassion to the mother, and I honestly feel that the mother’s life could be at risk.

    • Mormon Dominionism right there – you can be a priest in the Mor(m)on ‘Church’ and lie your ass off as long as the Dominion of the “Church’ of LDS is the end goal.

    • Rmoney always has a sound of desperation in his voice. It’s like he is begging his audience for their attention. President Obama always sounds confident which engages his audience.

  7. It sure is nice to have Thom on later. Now, I can leave work at noon on Friday, hit a couple stores, pick up lunch, and still make Brunch With Bernie!

  8. This is one of the most vile racist screeds I’ve seen outside of a Klan rally. For the record, I’ve never felt the slightest bit of fear of a person because of their color. I haven’t spent a whole lot of time in cities but my favorite part of city life is the broad spectrum of people one gets to meet. I even spent a few days barhopping in parts of Detroit that were later described as “suicidal” for a white person to visit. I just met stares with the warmest smile I could manage and made sure to lose at pool. (NOTE: I find it extremely easy to lose at pool.)

    http://thinkprogress.org/justice/2012/04/06/459961/derbyshire-avoid-concentrations-of-blacks/

    • Maybe it’s part of having lived in Minnesota, but I’m like you, Pete, have never feared anyone because of their color. I, too, wandered areas near downtown Detroit back in the sixties, not long after the riots when it looked like Berlin in 1945. No problems. Lived in St. Louis in the late sixties when race tensions were extreme, and one of the coolest dudes I’ve ever met was a black fellow who worked at McDonnell-Douglas, also at two other jobs including a wine shop in a nearby shopping center. He was a great guy, was in fact the basis for the Nick Dixon character in my book. I also recall with great fondness a trip to the island of St. Lucia in the early eighties. There were four of us, two couples, that flew in from Phoenix, got there quite late in the day. My business partner and his wife were from Chicago originally, and they were both ‘nervous’ at first. We landed there around nine at night and it was about an hour’s ride to the hotel we’d booked for ourselves. Everyone but us in the van was black, and so was almost everyone else; the Chicagoans were edgy. In the morning, they breathed a sigh of relief to notice that most of the hotel guests were white. Like us.

      We stayed there a full week. The white-skinned guests were mostly arrogant jerks from the east coast and had little or nothing to do with us. Thankfully. Meanwhile, the locals were very very dark-skinned, and some of the nicest people one could ever hope to meet. To make a long story short, the night before we left, the entire hotel staff — all black save for the British dive shop guy — joined us in the bar to say goodbye. We had a ball. One fellow even disappeared for awhile and when he returned had a sack of fresh-picked nutmeg for us to take back to Arizona. In the early morning when we were traveling back to the airport in the hotel van, one of the hotel staff — Rupert Mathurin was his name, he was partially disabled, legs twisted at birth, iirc — was standing alone on the main road through the neighboring town of Soufriere, standing there to wave his final goodbyes to us as we rolled past in the airport van. Unfortunately, we were running late and couldn’t stop.

      Later, back in AZ, when we looked at some of the photos we’d taken we were shocked. I mean, those people were BLACK! But what was most interesting was that we didn’t remember that aspect, it was not important at all. They were great people, and after the first few hours they were no longer ‘black’, only new friends. We kept in touch by mail with several of them for two or three years. Got some great recipes for local chow, in fact, even as we sent little things to them in return.

      No one, to this day, ever harps to me on someone else’s skin color, or nationality, or immigration status. Not more than once, at least, after which they wish they’d have kept their mouths shut. They learn, quickly, that I have ZERO TOLERANCE of ignorant and hate-filled bastards. Like. Them.

    • In 1995 my wife and I bought a house in “the black neighborhood” of North Portland. It had long been one of the poorer neighborhoods in Portland (surprise!) and, yes, there was gang violence and crack dealers and a lot of families in affordable rentals, raising their kids and sending them to a high school that included one of the premier dance programs in the country. Living in that neighborhood is how I learned that stopping to chat with someone on the sidewalk, or someone sitting on their front porch, is not scary. which would be a valuable lesson for all sorts of white people I encounter, who consider a cheerful “good morning” to be the first step in a rape/murder.

      Like many places, we’ve got our meth plague — almost entirely among white folks. Sorry, would rather live next to a black family than a building full of tweakers, any day.

      • I’ve always found that being decent to people, and treating them the way I’d like to be treated, comes around in kind.

        Hell, it costs nothing to be kind, but some people — usually fearful bedwetting morons — just have to feel like they’re “better than” someone. Even when they’re not.

  9. Aaaannnd, my middle sister has changed her profile pic on FB to a glowing blue cross.

    Is it for Easter, or because she’s having a breast cancer scare? I fully support her right to worship a mythical sky fairy, as long as she doesn’t push it in my face all the time, and support her even more in her current state not knowing WTF is going on with her breast (especially with our generational history of breast cancer, and her previous scare with pre-cancerous cells in her cervix), but I am not going to say one word about the glowing blue cross. Not one!!

    Except here, among friends. Aaarrrrrggghhhhhhh!!!! 🙂

    • On the cross – we agree.
      On the breast cancer scare — oh does that play on the mind.
      Went through that late last year.
      The call and letter “we detect” you need to come in for an Ultra Sound..

      I’ll keep positive thoughts on a healthy outcome for your middle sister. (despite the glowing blue cross)

      • Yes, thank you, Ebb. she’s my favorite sister, and I wouldn’t have anything in the world happen to her, but she frustrates the hell out of me with her Jesus bullshit.

        I can tell she’s scared, because she’s gone all clinical (she’s an RN), and it breaks my heart.

        The weird thing is, she’s the one sister of the three of us that has a super healthy lifestyle and believes in God — and she’s the one who has two cancer scares under her belt. I don’t believe in any sort of God, and have never had a cancer scare, although my heart likes to race and bounce around now and then — I blame Clooney. 😉

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