The Band

The entertainment after the Marysville High reunion was the Blue River Ramblers, named for the stream that runs by the town. Not a thing about them online so my guess is that they are just a pick-up group. There seemed to be chronic technical problems and Elvira needed to go home so we didn't get to hear them play.

They were diverse by Kansas standards. The guitar player had a face like the proverbial five miles of bad road and eyes that hadn't smiled in years. The singer-keyboard player looked and sounded like George Beverly Shea, Billy Graham's gospel music singer. The drummer was doing the Duck Dynasty look. Wish we could have stayed to hear their style.             

At The Legion Hall

In many towns across America events like reunions and wedding receptions are sometimes held at the facilities of the Veterans of Foreign Wars or the American Legion, another military veteran's group. There is always a large, open meeting area, a kitchen and a bar. The prices are modest. Sort of an everyman's alternative to a hotel ballroom.

The Marysville High School reunion was held at the American Legion hall. It's convivial and informal. As you can see, the high school mascot is the Bulldog. I thought the bottom picture was better in black and white. Those are the red and white stripes of a big American flag on the wall and they are pretty hard on the eyes in color. These circles with a variety of military activity covered the wall. A bit off from the culture I live in.              

80th High School Class Reunion

Marysville, Kansas, High School, has an annual reunion for the classes with major graduation anniversaries, about 40 years and up. Mrs. C (Class of 1962) and I attended last night in honor of her mother, Elvira Kruse, the sole representative of the class of 1936. 80 years out of high school, 97 years of age and doing well, thank you. What a remarkable person.                 

816 - The Metro

816 is the telephone area code for Kansas City, Missouri, where we find ourselves at the moment. It is also the name of the hotel where we stay in KC on our way to see Mrs. C's family in Kansas. It is full of photos and artifacts of the city from decades ago. We usually get one of the less expensive rooms but they are a bit cramped. This time we spent a little more and got a bigger one.

We had no idea that the room's decoration theme was Kansas City's public transit of years gone by. The second picture is of wallpaper behind the desk. The fourth is a fare box from not too many years ago. The bedside lamp on the right of the top of photo is the cylinder where riders dropped their coins decades ago.

Over to Marysville, Kansas, this morning. The weather is unsettled. Maybe we'll see a tornado.         

Iron & Steel

I am so out of material. The colors in this one are okay, though. It is the back end of a metal scrap yard with the new-ish Stan Musial Bridge over the Mississippi behind it. The yellow concrete blocks across the bottom remind me of Kansas hay bales. We will be among the real bales on Saturday. Over to Kansas City today. I could use some time away.                 

Cantante

A mariachi singer at the Cinco de Mayo festival. (Cinco de Junio is not far away, is it?) This brings back a memory. We visited Mexico City once, many years ago, so long ago that we regularly used a travel agent. We told her we wanted to go there. She refused, saying that we would be kidnapped, held for ransom and then killed. So we used another travel agent.

We had no idea when we booked it but we were there over Independence Day in September. The luxury hotels were empty and dirt cheap, so we stayed at the Four Seasons. The hotel booked us for dinner on Independence Day night at La Hacienda de los Morales, perhaps the most elegant restaurant in town. There were many connected rooms. Mariachi bands moved from one to another, each group with a different look and sound. I will always remember the band dressed in white with silver and black silk trim, with a tenor barely more than five feet tall belting out La Bamba like Ritchie Valens never did. Unforgettable.                  

Born To Be WIld

Or as wild as you can be on a scooter. From the PJP.