Tuesday, July 28, 2026

2026 UPDATE: BLACK CATS, BAD ODORS AND THINGS THAT SPEAK SPANISH IN THE NIGHT

Back in October of 2009, I posted a blog bit titled [link> BLACK CATS, BAD ODORS & THINGS THAT SPEAK SPANISH IN THE NIGHT. This is an update to that original post.
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For nearly fourteen years - from March 12, 1998 through January 31, 2012 - I worked as a security guard in the 4-story Arizona corporate headquarters for the Cigna HealthCare company, located at 11001 North Black Canyon Highway in Phoenix. In 2009, when I wrote and published the original blog bit, I was very cautious about revealing too much specific information because I was still employed in the building known as The Grove, but which I routinely referred to as "The Grave". Naturally, I did not want my story to interfere with the daily operations of the company that employed me. The last thing I wanted was to draw curious ghost hunters and kooky paranormal looky-loos to the building.
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Also, I was aware that a security guard seeing "ghosts" was jeopardizing his job and, frankly, I LOVED my job at The Grove / "Grave". 
In fact, I probably loved my security officer job at "The Grave" more than any other that I had during my working years, which is why I stayed there so long. (I likely would have retired from the workforce in my 60s at The Grove, if Cigna hadn't decided to move their Arizona headquarters to a new location that I didn't want to travel to.)
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I wasn't going to risk losing my job by submitting an official Daily Report which truthfully stated that there were "malevolent spirits" in the building:  
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However, that was then and this is now (to coin a phrase). It has been fourteen long years since I worked at "The Grave" and since the company that employed me there relocated. Shortly after Cigna HealthCare moved out of that building in January of 2012, I left my security officer job and worked as a courier for a messenger service, transporting legal documents from law offices to various court buildings in downtown Phoenix.
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Here are some photos of The Grove / "The Grave" with its strange, pointed little head at the northwest corner: 
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Earlier this year (2026), I took a trip back to Phoenix and while there, I decided to visit The Grove / "The Grave" to see if I could determine whether or not weird stuffs were still occurring in that building. I got my answer, and just as I expected, indeed the supernatural woo-woo continues to this very day!
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When I went to visit the building, I discovered that it is secured 24/7 - entrance is restricted to people who know the keypad code - but I had an opportunity to briefly speak outside the building with "Michael", a person who was employed there in some capacity. (As always, real names have been changed to protect the identity of the terrified.) I let Michael know who I was and about my background as it related to the building. I told him that I was simply curious to ascertain whether or not strange oddities were still a common occurrence in "The Grave".
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Quite frankly, Michael seemed rather reticent to talk about the building in detail; everything he said was conveyed to me in rather vague terms and basic generalities. He definitely did NOT seem very comfortable with the subject matter. Nevertheless, Michael assured me that bizarre phenomena was still a regular occurrence inside, and that he also had personally experienced very unnatural, unexplainable activity in the time that he'd been employed there. He didn't seem at all inclined to elaborate on the details of his experiences, nor the experiences of others whom he knew there, so I didn't press him in that direction.
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Michael expounded a bit with his own theory when he told me that he believes that malevolent disembodied spirits can sense the fear in human beings, and that they actually feed off of and are literally nourished in some way by the fearfulness that they are able to arouse in people. He believed that this was the reason unseen entities are harbored in The Grove / "The Grave".
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I have come across similar theories described in the past, in books and articles I have read about the paranormal. And while I suspect there may be some degree of truth in that idea, it doesn't come nearly close to explaining the phenomena in a larger sense.
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For example: If that "feeding on fear" is the primary explanation for this type of odd activity, then shouldn't ALL big buildings where large numbers of (quietly fearful) people gather on a regular basis be as "haunted" as The Grove? Shouldn't this sort of activity be quite common everywhere? Well, it certainly isn't. I'm now in my mid-60s and have been many places and seen many things - and although I am very much aware of numerous places that have been called "haunted" or "possessed", and I have been inside many such places - I have NEVER encountered the amount and degree of weird happenings as have been experienced and described by so many different people as The Grove has provided. Based on my firsthand experiences and knowledge, I still maintain that "The Grave" has to be one of the most "haunted" (for want of a better word) buildings in this country!
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When I published my original post on this subject, I was still wondering about the possibility that it wasn't just The Grove ("Grave") that was experiencing this jaw-dropping amount of paranormal activity. I was still entertaining the possibility that perhaps it was that general area which was being affected, and not just the building at 11001 North Black Canyon Highway.
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It just so happened that during my trip, I stayed at the Hyatt Place Phoenix-North hotel (you can see it in that last aerial view photo that I posted above). The Hyatt Place hotel stands just south of and probably no more than about 70 yards from The Grove / Grave. I can still remember working at The Grove as a security guard and seeing the Hyatt Place hotel as it was being constructed.
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While checking in, I gave the desk clerk a quick briefing on my professional history with that area and I asked him if he or anyone he knew had ever experienced any kind of weird, abnormal or supernatural phenomenon in that hotel. He said that he'd been working there for two years and he'd never noticed anything unusual in the building; furthermore, no coworkers nor any guests had ever reported to him anything weird having happened on the premises. There was another employee sitting next to the front desk clerk during this conversation. I think the lady was perhaps a bookkeeper / accountant and, if I recall correctly, she may have stated that she'd worked at that site for six years. She told me that, likewise, she'd never experienced nor heard of anyone else experiencing any kind of "ghostly" activity in the hotel. And she assured me that if it ever DID happen, she would quit her job instantly and run from the building like a scalded dog! Oh, yes, this nice woman was unquestionably terrified by just the thought of "ghosts", "demons" or whatever you choose to call them.
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So, in my opinion, that obliterates the idea that this is an "area" issue rather than just a "building" problem. It also obliterates the much-too-generalized theory that evil spirits always manifest solely in order to feed on the fear of humans. As of 2026, the Hyatt Place hotel has been in operation for 28 years. Hokey-Smoke!! How many fearful people do you suppose have worked at and checked into that hotel over the last 28 years? And yet, it doesn't have a ghost / demon problem like the building does which stands less than a football field away! 
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In my original post about this building back in 2009, I wrote about a {*now it can finally be revealed*} security guard named "Elaine" {not her real name} who quit the job three or four days after a seemingly male "entity" walked right past her at about 5:10 AM - while she knew herself to be completely alone in the building. This male-looking "entity" appeared to float above the floor with his arms stretched out in front of him as he moved down the building's eastern hallway where he suddenly disappeared before Elaine's eyes.
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FUN FACT #1: Lucky for y'all, I actually made a Xerox copy of the security guard's daily report from that night, and I'm about to reveal it to you. R U Ready? Here comes the *authentic* security guard's report from the night that terrified her right out of her job. I have blacked-out all of the names and initials so as to protect the identities of folks who may not want "this world" to know about these real-life experiences which tremendously challenge the common misbeliefs of the masses
G😜L!
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Because "Elaine's" printing isn't very clear at times, below are some of the highlights that I've typed out for y'all: 
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0400 - 0500  This building is haunted and if I have to babysit {a} ghost, I want a raise. 
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0500 - 0600  {Supervisor's name redacted} I am requesting a meeting with you ASAP. 
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0600 - 0700  About 5:10 AM I saw a man walk around the sign-in table. I said Hello and he kept walking down the hall. I yelled Hellow [sic] and he ignored me. I could not see his arms. I blinked and he disappeared. 
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P.S.  I am requesting a transfer. I can't stay here and die of a heart attack. Maybe you can give someone at the Support Center my shift and trade with me. Thanks. 
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As stated in my original blog bit, the supervisor did not transfer "Elaine" to another location, and three or four days after this incident, she quit the company. Yes, she was genuinely frightened right into unemployment! 
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As should be quite clear by now, despite all of the stories I'd heard and experiences I myself had, unlike so many other employees, I was never fearful of the malevolent spirit/spirits in the building. Why not? Because I knew that I had Jesus Christ with me at all times. He was and is my Sinless Savior, my Holy King, and my Good Shepherd. The person who accepts God and Christ into their heart is given a Godly Spirit of fearlessness. Read the following two verses from The Ho Bib
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2nd Timothy 1:7 
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1st John 4:18 
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In closing, I want to make a very heartfelt plea that all of the readers of this blog bit will find a way to surrender their egos just long enough to open the door of their soul to God, their Creator, and thereby consciously entering into the Heart of God through Jesus Christ, who is the appointed Way leading to the genuine Center of Eternal LOVE - yes, that LOVE which will last FOREVER.
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Please listen to me... God IS Love. God - your true Creator - He doesn't just love you, He IS Love! Can you grasp the tremendous Truth that I am attempting to convey to you here? GOD IS LOVE!!! (read 'The First Epistle Of John, Chapter 4: Verses 8 & 16').
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Those verses say twice [i.e., "two witnesses", for those who may understand this Spiritually profound symbolism] that God doesn't just love, but He actually IS Love! And guess what! Hang onto your hat here... He -- God (LOVE) -- created you in HIS own Image! Therefore, obviously, you too ARE Love
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Now, can't we all just get along? Can't we all just begin behaving like we are what we truly ARE?! Can't we finally come to recognize ourselves? Can't we actually SEE and KNOW our true identities?
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This final bit of God-given personal insight which I am about to publicly reveal here for the first time ever will likely seem far too esoteric for many folks to understand. Nevertheless, for those who may have ears to hear, eyes to see, and minds to comprehend the deeper Spiritual Truth implied in the following Fun Fact, I tell you this:
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FUN FACT #2: Many times over the decades, I have closed prayers to God with the following statement: "God, I Love You with the Love that YOU are".
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That's all I have to say about this. If you didn't understand my meaning in that last line above, I urge you to repeatedly pray to God and/or Jesus Christ about it. Ask Them to explain it to you, and if you faithfully & patiently believe that They will reveal to you the meaning of it, They most certainly will. I give you my ironclad, money-back, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious [link> Mary Poppins guarantee on that!
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May You Bless & Be Blessed!!
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~ Stephen T. McCarthy
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Original 2009 blog post is HERE

Sunday, May 31, 2026

ELEGY FOR AN OUTLAW (For Ty Heath)

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Photo from Nautilus '75, the Santa Monica High School yearbook.
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TY GRANT HEATH
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30 Nov 1959 -- 10 Sep 1976 
Los Angeles County, California, USA
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Buried at North Fork Cemetery
North Fork, Madera County, California
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ELEGY FOR AN OUTLAW 
(For Ty Heath) 
Written by Stephen T. McCarthy on 8-6-1982
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"YOUTH SLAIN AT BAY COUNTRY CLUB 
IDENTIFIED AS S.M. TEEN"
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He was very shy
And had a round face
With the laugh of a chipmunk.
He was always nervous...... about everything.
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"Authorities have identified an
armed youth slain by police early
Friday at the Brentwood Country Club
as Ty Heath of Santa Monica."
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In Mister Freed's Spanish class
We would mold notebook paper
Into light yet deadly round weapons and 
Hurl them across the room at...... each other.
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"He was shot and killed on the 18th
green of the golf course during a
confrontation with four West Los Angeles
officers responding to a burglary report."
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Once he came into class and hit me
With a paper ball that really stung.
Tearing it apart, I found a hidden rock.
I laughed...... and surrendered.
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"Santa Monica Police said they
received a call from a person identifying
himself as 'Mr. Heath' and that the caller
told them a burglar wearing a cowboy hat
and green coat was at the club."
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I did not contact him during the Summer 
When he saw 'The Outlaw Josey Wales' 
so often 
And became very despondent because
He thought he had...... no friends.
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"Police found Ty Heath, wearing a cowboy hat standing on the green and holding a pistol in each hand. They said they pleaded with him for about 20 minutes to drop the guns but Heath refused. He was shot when he raised the weapons, police said."
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When I answered the phone
And was told that he had been shot and killed
I smiled, because it hurt too much to cry.
Ty Heath, I was...... your friend.
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Click on images to enlarge them.
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In keeping with the God-created concept of "Two Witnesses", Ty Heath contacted me a second (but final) time. In the second visitation, he displayed the fact that humor - also created by God - does exist on "the other side" in the afterlife:
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1976 was the first time that I experienced a Spiritual interaction with someone on "the other side". I've had several such experiences since then. 
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Ty Heath and I met while we were fellow members in a Police Explorer post, and we both attended the 19-week Academy together in 1974. The Academy was extremely stressful, but we both graduated with high grades. In fact, it was Ty who introduced me to a drafting device called a Pickett Freehand Letterliner which greatly improved my notebook grades at the Academy! 52 years later, I still have and occasionally use my handy Pickett template. (Thanks again, Ty!) 
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It was while at the Police Explorer Academy that I learned how and when to apply a tourniquet to a serious wound, and it was that knowledge which allowed me to save my Brother's life a few years later, when he crashed through a window while playing Birdieball, slicing open the artery in his left bicep.
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Somewhere I have a good photograph of Ty and me at the Police Explorer Academy graduation ceremony, and when I find it, I will return here to post it.
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*Very Special Thanks To... 
Karen Burns who created the page for Ty Heath at the Find A Grave website HERE
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Julio Seis-Abeja (aka Bryan Pedas) who utilized his best buddy, Botboy, in finding for me the location of Ty Heath's gravesite. My Ma and I attended Ty's funeral, but I lost touch with his Mom shortly afterwards, and until very recently, I did not know where he was laid to rest. 
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May you all Bless & Be Blessed!! 
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~ Stephen T. McCarthy 
(aka D-FensDogG) 

Wednesday, May 13, 2026

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO BINKY BUCKEYE, MY FAVORITE FLIPPIN' SQUIRREL!


SHIRLEY - 1931 
She's Old School 
Thru And Thru 
Hates The D.H. 
And Steroids Too.
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One of my favorite photographs of my beloved Ma, circa 1952 or '53.
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On Mother's Day, Sunday, May 10th, Lily-Rose Dawson at the Wise Wolf substack site wrote an E-Ticket tribute to her mom, and to great moms everywhere. 
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The Totally True Origins and History of Mother's Day:
A Thank You Note to Every Woman Who Held This Whole Thing Together
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Lily's excellent article inspired me to write this tribute to my Ma, Shirley. May always finds me reminiscing about her because 1) it's the month of Mother's Day, 2) it's the month of my Ma's birthday (May 13th - today!), and 3) May was my Ma's middle name. 
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Ma grew up in a dirt-poor family during The Great Depression; she grew up wearing used clothes donated to the poor. And those were some of the better aspects of her early years. (There were some unwanted "experiences" that I won't even mention here.) 
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My siblings and I were lavished with gifts every Christmas Day - everything we really wanted, plus lots of popular 1960s & '70s clothing. Ma wanted us to have wonderful Christmas gifts that we would cherish, and to have clothes that the other kids wouldn't ridicule us about - brand new, hip, groovy, "with it", fashionable. In other words, she wanted us to have all the things she had to do without when she was a kid. 
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The Groovy D-FensDogG (a big Monkees fan), showing off the paisley shirt and fringed vest that his Ma bought for him. The vest was a cherished garment, which made all the 6th & 7th grade girls jealous of me.
Guffaw-😎ut-Loud!
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When I became an adult (yeah, I know that's a debatable statement), my Ma confessed that she and Pa charged their credit cards up the wazoo every December, and they'd get the credit cards fully paid off in November of the following year, just in time to charge them up again during the next round of Christmas gifts for We Three Kids (Nappy, Bonehead and me). For a time in the mid-1960s, my Ma simultaneously held down three part-time jobs in order to help make ends meet! 
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Pa and Ma didn't have the smoothest of marriages; they actually separated twice for awhile. But they never divorced and ultimately stayed together for the sake of We Three Kids, whom they both dearly loved. In their later years, they settled into a very comfortable & happy life together. 
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Make no mistake about it, I would wish both of my parents on every single child who ever lived! Every child deserves a Pa and Ma like I had! (Thank you, God, my Father, for the countless blessings in my life, which began with my Mom & Dad!!) 
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On March 17, 2005, I wrote a review for a book about BASEBALL, which I posted on the Amazon ("BigBitch") website. The review was titled > Hitting It Right On "THE SWEET SPOT". To this day, I think it may be the best thing I've ever written. Right after I published it on Amazon, I took my Ma to lunch at one of her favorite restaurants to celebrate the feeling I had. Below is an excerpt from that review: 
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* Growing up po' (not Third World po', of course, but American po'), one Summer my Brother and I played for a baseball team in the "economically challenged" part of town. One day our Ma asked, "Do you realize that you're the only White guys on the team? Everyone else is Black." We both had to pause for several moments to contemplate that before answering, "Oh yeah, that's right, huh?" She later confessed that it was the proudest she ever felt of us. And she realized then and there that she had raised us well! LESSON: It don't matter what color your skin is, because when your team loses a ballgame, every player is BLUE!
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In 2014, Susan Flett Swiderski's blog, which I routinely followed, posted "In Praise Of Old Broads", in which she and her co-publisher, Julie Kemp Pick (I called her "Gem Julie") asked readers to post comments about their very favorite old broad. I didn't even realize that they were going to award a free copy of their wonderful new book to the person whose comment they most enjoyed. I just naturally wrote & posted a comment about my Ma because... it was an opportunity to publicly praise my Ma, who had gone "Home" (aka "Heaven") nine years earlier.  
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Here is the comment I wrote, which won me a free copy of the book, even though I didn't realize I was involved in a writing competition: 
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Stephen T. McCarthy - September 5, 2014 
Well, my favorite old broad was definitely my Ma (who also happened to be a big Frank Sinatra fan). Talk about TOUGH! Her photo should always be included with the expression "tough old broad". She did not put up with ANY crap, and God help the person who messed with a member of her family! 
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She was a sports fanatic - particularly loved baseball & football - and she knew more about those sports than most guys do. For years she even worked professionally as a secretary for the Los Angeles Dodgers. 
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I remember one time she and I went to a Dodgers Vs. Angels pre-season exhibition game. Pitching for the Angels was Jim Abbott, a man who had been born without a right hand (and who years later, as a Yankee, pitched a 'No-Hitter' against the Cleveland Indians). 
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There were two twenty-something-year-old guys in the seats next to ours. At one point in the game, Abbott pitched his way out of a jam and one of the two guys said, "Give that pitcher a hand." 
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Ooooohhh! My Ma verbally lit into that guy like you wouldn't believe, right in front of all the other fans. That guy started stammering, and backpedaling like crazy, insisting he didn't mean it "that way" (which of course was a bunch of B.S.). When my Ma got done with that guy, he was embarrassed to hell and you could tell he would have crawled into any convenient hole he could find. 
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Another time, my Brother was mouthing off to her, and he pushed one of her buttons (which he did constantly) and she took off after him. Now, what makes this particular episode so memorable is that my Brother had a broken leg at the time and his leg was in a full cast. He saw that look in her eyes, and then she started coming toward him, and my Brother dropped his crutch and hopped downstairs to his bedroom. But... 
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...it wasn't over yet. She picked up his crutch and went after him with it. He managed to get to his bed, and she raised that crutch, ready to bring it down on him when... God intervened. The crutch broke through one of the ceiling tiles and got hung up in it. A couple of times she tried to swing it down but it wouldn't come loose from the ceiling tile. So she just turned and stomped off, going back upstairs. 
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And there's my Brother lying on his back on his bed looking up at that crutch still lodged above him in the ceiling and just swinging back and forth. (If you wrote that in a screenplay nobody would believe it, but it really did happen just like that!) 
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And I know it sounds terrible, my Ma going after my Brother with his own crutch but... you didn't know my Brother. Ha!-Ha! {*To borrow from 'Monty Python & The Holy Grail'... he got better. 😄*}
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And that gives you a good idea of how tough an old broad my Ma was. 
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The comment from Susan, in which she later announced that I had won the contest, still warms my heart: 
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Wanta hear whose favorite old broad comment won a copy of Old Broads Waxing Poetic? Okay. (Insert drum roll here.) It's a pleasure to announce that (ta-DA!)  Stephen T. McCarthy takes the prize this time around with his expression of unabashed love and admiration for his mother. (sniff) Ya gotta love a guy who loves his ma.
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Below is what is amongst my favorite memories related to my Ma, and when I told her the story, I could tell she absolutely adored it. She laughed so hard and was almost glowing from the inside out: 
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I had gone to a department store to buy her a Mother's Day gift. After I had selected something, I took it to the Gift Wrapping department. They had all kinds of wrapping examples for customers to choose from. 
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I saw one display of a package wrapped in paper that looked like a newspaper's Sports section with headlines & stories about various sporting event outcomes. I told the woman behind the counter that the gift was for my Ma on 'Mother's Day', and I wanted it wrapped in the Sports-themed paper. A very perplexed expression grew upon the lady's face, and then she said, "This is for Mother's Day?" 
I replied, "Yes". 
She asked, "And you... and you want it wrapped in the Sports Headlines paper?" 
"Yes", I responded. And then I added, "Well, my Mom... she's not like the others". 
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Today, in 2026, I still suspect that when I related that story to my Ma, she probably considered it the greatest compliment that I ever gave her. 
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I was sitting right next to my Ma, as we watched the bottom of the 9th inning of the seventh game in the 2001 World Series together. (In my opinion, the greatest Fall Classic in the history of Major League Baseball!) Roughly 5 months later, in 2002, I was sitting next to my Ma again, watching a TV program about the Arizona Diamondbacks, when Mark Grace was shown and mentioned. I said something to my Ma about Grace and she said, "Uhm... I kinda forget. Who is he again?" 
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Well, Mark Grace was my Mom's favorite D'Backs player. Ma forgetting who Grace was would be almost akin to > Dennis Eckersley forgetting who Kirk Gibson is! I asked my Ma to repeat what she had just said, and when she did, I told her, "Put your shoes on and get your coat. We're going to the hospital." 
She said, "Why?! What's wrong?" 
I replied, "I don't know, but we're going to find out". 
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Just as I suspected, my Mom had suffered a stroke. She recovered from it well, thanks to God & > THIS. But she was never quite the same after the stroke. Her personality had become much more docile. The feisty old broad had checked out. 
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One day when we were alone together, perhaps a year and a half before she passed on, I asked her to sit at the dining room table with me and listen to a song that I loved and which, as I told her, always made me think specifically of her. We just sat at the table and silently listened to 'Beautiful' together. Needless to say, she had tears flowing down her face before Gordon Lightfoot's song had come to an end. 
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BEAUTIFUL -- Gordon Lightfoot 
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I want to sing the praises of my Ma's taste in music. Two of her favorite singers were Bobby Darin & Frank Sinatra. She had priceless memories of dancing to Tommy Dorsey's 'Boogie Woogie' when she was young. She would play the Bill Black Combo's album > 'Movin'' while she was doing housework because it would amp up her energy level, put a spring in her step, and help her get the work done faster. I once saw her start crying while listening to 'April In Paris' by Count Basie. I asked her why she was crying, and she said, "Because I'll never be able to dance to this again"
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Ma loved her some very soulful music, too. It was through her records that I was first introduced to 'Mercy, Mercy, Mercy' by Cannonball Adderley; B.B. King's 'The Thrill Is Gone'; and 'Honky Tonk' by Bill Doggett. 
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My Pa had passed on in 1996. In her later years, by happenstance, I introduced my Ma to the songs 'Since I Don't Have You' and 'Then You Can Tell Me Goodbye' by Brian Setzer and Glen Campbell, respectively. She'd ask me to play them, then she'd start weeping and ask me what I thought Pa was doing in Heaven right then.  
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My Ma had a terrific sense-of-humor; she loved clever wordplay and, like my Pa, she even appreciated black or dark comedy. Her Top 25 Favorite Movies list included everything from 'Snow White And The Seven Dwarfs' and 'Gulliver's Travels' to 'Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison' and 'Dr. Strangelove'. She was extremely intelligent and very well-read. Her favorite novel was 'A Tree Grows In Brooklyn' by Betty Smith, and that was one of her favorite movies, too. I'm sure my Ma strongly identified with Francie Nolan, the girl who grew up in desperate poverty and whose primary escape from that reality was her love of reading. 
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The inscription in the first edition copy of 'A Tree Grows In Brooklyn' which my parents gave me on my 23rd birthday. 
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Inscription in a copy of The Holy Bible which my Ma gave me on my Spiritual Birthday in 2002. I used to call her "Binky Buckeye, Ohio's Flippin' Squirrel".
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 One day, while she was in the hospice facility, I brought a Frank Sinatra compact disc to play for her (a CD which she had purchased for me some years earlier). Suddenly, while the song 'We'll Be Together Again' was playing, there was a weird glitch in the song; it kind of fuzzed-out for about three seconds, then it corrected itself and played properly from then on. 
Ma asked me, "What was that?" 
I told her, "I really don't know".  
I have played that same CD countless times and never before then, and never since then, has the disc malfunctioned in any way whatsoever.
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About twelve or so hours before she went "Home" in the Summer of 2005, my Ma asked me who the man was that she saw standing in the corner of her hospice room. There was no one there. So I asked her, "What does he look like?" 
She replied, "He looks like a painter"
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Well, at one time, my Pa worked as an interior house painter. The other thought that occurred to me was this: Many painters wear white clothing - white overalls and white caps. Did my Ma see a white-light angel waiting to take her Home? 
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Ma & Pa on Christmas Day, circa 1994.
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May You All Bless & Be Blessed!! 
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WP&Z! (as Ma always said). 
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~ Stephen T. McCarthy 
aka D-FensDogG 

Wednesday, December 24, 2025

WE THREE KINGS OF ORIENT ARE (Or, PICK A CARD... ANY CARD!)

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The Nativity set from Italy which has been in my family since 1958.
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1985 is the year I first began sending out Christmas cards, and I have always taken a bit of pride in the cards I've sent. Sometimes they've been sacred & other times secular. I didn't become a [Maverick] Christian until April 6, 1994, but even after that, I sometimes sent secular cards. It all depended upon which cards I found & liked best, or what sort of idea I came up with in creating my own cards. 
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The first card I sent depicted a little boy getting the puppy he wished for. (Let's be honest, a pony isn't very practical for a city-dwelling boy. And BB guns are too dangerous "You'll shoot your eye out!")
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Below are some (not all, but some) of my very favorite Christmas cards that I've sent out over the decades:
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1985 Christmas card. Click on the pictures to see 'em bigger 'n' better!
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Beautiful 1989 card
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Me in 1990 at Santa's North Pole (aka Skyforest, Calif., near Lake Arrowhead).
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My 1993 card, four months before my baptism by Jesus.
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1996 -- One of my very, very favorites!
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1998 -- Edward Hopper is my favorite artist, and this spoof of his famous painting 'Nighthawks' was irresistible to me! 
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My 2010 card which reminds me of a certain Christmas movie I watch every December.
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This next one from 2016 is my #1 choice. It begins with my all-time favorite family photo (taken in '64) on the front of the card. My sister, Bonehead, was just an infant and my brother, Nappy, was cryin' like a baby. I felt genuinely inspired when I came up with the sentiment inside the card:
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Anyone who knows me knows that I have a twisted appreciation for black comedy. Below are three cards that friends sent to me over the years, and which I saved and display every year because they still put a smile on my face: 
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This 1984 card was sent to me by Kelly Anderson, one of the two best friends I've ever had, and the most overall talented person I've known. Inside the card, Kelly wrote: "License plate light was out. You know the gig!" It broke my heart when Kelly committed suicide two years later.
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This 1988 one-of-a-kind hand-drawn card was from my buddy Lonnie Millsap III, who later went on to become a professional cartoonist, having his cartoons published in The New Yorker & Playboy magazines.
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This hilarious card was sent to me in 2018 by my friend Sheboyganboy Six (aka Sixgun McItchyfinger, The Amazing Sixwell, and Sir Sixalot). This has to be the funniest Christmas card I've ever seen!
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Well, that's it for this blog for now. I wish you all a very 
"MERWWY CHWITHMUTH!" 
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WP&Z!, 
~ Stephen T. McCarthy 

Monday, June 30, 2025

TOMBSTONE & THE BIRD CAGE THEATRE (Or, PAT BERRINGTON & ALLEN STREET ROSE)

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2010: Bird Cage Theatre -- Tombstone, AZ.
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1992: A cool cowboy dirty dog waits for easy prey to wander by.
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{*If you've come here from my July 1, 2025 > Battle Of The Bands blog bit, I thanks ya!*}
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The first time I went to Tombstone, Arizona, it was in early June, 1992. I was on vacation with the Countess (Trip Name: "Sniffy's Damn German Fudge Fiasco Trailblaze"). That was a year and a half before the movie 'Tombstone' was released. So we got to see Tombstone before it became a major tourist destination. The popularity of that movie really changed the place. It got painted and upgraded and didn't have the lowdown, grungy look of a real old Western mining town anymore, like it did when The Countess & I first experienced it. 
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Muddy & the Countess in Tombstone before it became a major 20th Century movie star.
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1992: Muddy sitting on Doc Holliday's shotgun.
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When the Countess and I were there in '92, we visited the Bird Cage Theatre. The hallways leading to the cribs were blocked off, but there was a knothole in a wooden plank that one could peer through to see what it looked like down there. 
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Bird's eye view knothole view of the cribs' hallway. 
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The Countess had an eye up to the knothole and was staring down the hallway, when she felt someone run their finger down the back of her leg. She had assumed it was me, but when she turned around, she saw that I was on the opposite side of the Bird Cage Theatre stage, and there was no one else there. We were the only two visitors in the Bird Cage Theatre at that time! This is a 100% true story.
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Six years later, in 1998, I was in Tombstone while on a trip with my Brother. We were in the Bird Cage Theatre and walking up the wooden stairs that led to the stage. About midway up the stairs, I stopped my Brother and asked him if he could hear some faint music playing. He said, "Yeah, I hear it". I breathed a sigh of relief, because that faint music had a very haunting sound to it, and I had momentarily thought that perhaps I'd slipped into the Twilight Zone.
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Wooden stairs on the left, where I was standing when I first became aware of the music of Patricia Berrington.
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I was so captivated by the song playing that before leaving the Theatre, I asked an employee about it. She showed me the album 'ALLEN STREET ROSE' by Pat Berrington, on cassette & compact disc. I bought the cassette, because it was cheaper and I was unsure what the rest of the album sounded like.
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When I got home and played that cassette, it turned into a massive "Mr. Toad Mania" for me. That cassette was pretty much the ONLY music I listened to for the next 2 to 3 months. I was so immersed in it and mesmerized by it that I drove back to Tombstone (six hours round trip) solely to buy the 'Allen Street Rose' album on compact disc.
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My brother, Nappy, in a > Mr. Bascom cowboy hat, Three Stooges T-shirt, and threatening Pooh, the cameraman, with a toy pistol. Tombstone, AZ., circa 2000.
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Selected Tombstone Videos:
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Tombstone Tour - Arizona - October 1992 
[This is how Tombstone looked when the Countess and I visited it in early June of '92.]
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Tombstone, Arizona Walking Tour in 4K - OK Corral Gunfight, Wyatt Earp House, Boot Hill Graveyard
[Today, sadly, Tombstone looks more like Disney's Frontierland.]
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“Tombstone” Filming Locations | Mescal Movie Set 
[Fun Fact: My all-time favorite Western, 'Monte Walsh' (1970) starring Lee Marvin, Jack Palance & Jeanne Moreau, was also filmed at the Mescal movie set... where I sneaked in once, when I was a younger maverick than I am today. Also, the "Countess" derived her nickname from the film 'Monte Walsh'.]
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TERROR in Tombstone | Ghost Activity in Haunted Brothel | Birdcage Theatre
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Bird Cage Theater!! THEY TALKED BACK!!!!! Tombstone, AZ Part 3
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The infamous Ice Cream Cowboy of Allen Street. Photo by General Poohregard, circa 2000.
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And now, for your listening pleasure, I present to you the extremely rare (harder to find than a snowflake in a Phoenix summer!) 'Allen Street Rose' album by Pat Berrington!
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* Special thanks to Bryan "Julio" Pedas for creating these videos from my compact disc!
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ALLEN STREET ROSE (complete album) 
by Pat Berrington 
@ YouTube: 
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~ Stephen T. McCarthy 
(...the "dirty dog")