Saturday morning in Fresno

My wife Tracy discovered a strange and scary scene in front of our house this morning, while getting back from walking the dog. On our front porch -- in addition to the morning newspaper -- was a discarded pair of jean shorts with a belt, bloodstained work boots and socks, a large puddle of coagulated blood, and a half-dozen quarter-sized spots of blood -- all about a foot from our front door.


We're not crime scene investigators, of course, but it appeared that the person staggered up to our front porch, sat on the ledge of the flowerbed, and bled onto the concrete for a while. The person smashed one of Tracy's plants and knocked over several others, took off his boots, socks, and shorts, sat and bled for a bit, figuring out what to do, and then left.


We canceled our breakfast plans and called Fresno PD. They dispatched Officer Maynez, who slipped on his rubber gloves and poked around at the items. "So, these aren't yours?" he asked. He found a single folded dollar in the pants pocket and noted what he called a significant amount of blood on the porch and on the boots. He speculated that maybe someone ran from a DUI, but he said that those kinds of incidents usually involve the person discarding their shirt in order to avoid description. After taking some notes, he then asked us for a paper bag so he could pick up the items, recommended we clean things up with a generous dose of bleach, and then at my request gave us a couple pairs of rubber gloves to protect ourselves.


Officer Maynez said he would make a report on the call, in case "there was a homicide or a shooting or something" nearby. I asked him if he would need any photos or samples of the blood. He said, "No, there's plenty of blood on the shoes if we need DNA." I went to Walgreens and bought a cheap jug of bleach and a scrubber. I slipped on the gloves that Officer Maynez gave us, doused all the bloody spots with bleach, and scrubbed the porch clean. Tracy then hosed everything off and we righted her overturned plants.


The whole sequence reminded me of an incident in 2004, when my brother from another mother, Eric Parker, first moved in. It was Eric's first night in the house and he walked out to his car the next morning to bring in some of his things. He noticed that my garage had been tagged with graffiti. We discovered later that day that our neighbor's front door and car had also been tagged, as well as the baseball backstops in the park across the street. It was a rude welcome to the neighborhood for Eric, and it was the kind of unsettling incident that happens in the dead of night that we often do not see until morning.

Back to school means new portfolios

I love back to school time, when all the deals on school supplies come pouring out at retailers, office stores, and drugstores. After eating breadsticks and pizza for lunch with my parents at Corsaro's Pizza on Draper Street in downtown Kingsburg, Tracy found these amazing portfolios while puttering through the Walgreens in Kb. While it is true that I love my Pee Chee portfolios from back in the day, these folders at Walgreens were supercute.


Tracy's favorite, with li'l crabs.


Some folders were quite a bit nuttier than others.


I've always suspected popsicles and peace were connected.


Pirate themes are always a big hit with the kids.


Now here's a portfolio that the farm bureau and the C+C Music Factory could equally love.

I love new portfolios. The end.

Divas love Home Depot

I took my good friend Reaz to Home Depot this morning so he could get a spare apartment key cut. When we got there, I noticed that the key center had a whole wall of sports team keys. Keys of all shapes, sizes and team affiliations were available. I snapped this photo of the NFL keys available for the Raiders and 49ers. Reaz, who previously lived in Texas, looked for a Cowboys key but we couldn't find one. He picked up his regular spare key, with cutting, for less than two bucks. These sports team keys started at more than three bones just for the blanks, cutting not included.


I asked the Home Depot lady if they sold a lot of the sports keys. She said not really, but that they do sell a lot of the Diva keys to women. What are those, you ask? Well, on the side of the key center was a whole collection of Diva keyblanks for sale, starting at $4.48 just for the blanks. Some later Googling revealed that Diva keyblanks were available in dozens of designs, colors and bedazzled options, often for cheaper than Home Depot charged. I think my blogger/artist friends Aurora and Jenn would particularly appreciate Diva keys.


The keys got me to thinking about how everyone seems to be talking about divas these days. I told Reaz my theory about how I feel like I have to "look the part" when shopping at Home Depot. Since I bought my house in 2002, I've made many, many trips to the home improvement giant at all hours of the day for all sorts of tools and gadgets I've never even heard of, let alone thought to buy. I've often joked that I feel as if I need to clip a tape measure onto my belt or wear dirty work boots to be taken seriously by many of the Home Depot customer service folks. On this day, Reaz and I entered the store in our tennis gear on our way to the courts at Kastner Intermediate. I had on my little white footie socks and my Fresno State tee and he had on his headband. We did not exactly look like Home Depot types. But if a diva could do it, I guess we could, too.

An afternoon with my brother

I've always kind of wanted a brother, someone to talk to about dude stuff. I already have a little sister who is a schoolteacher in Las Vegas. But she and I don't talk much. So when Eric Parker came along a few years ago, I got my wish. Not only does the guy wash windows (above), write a great blog (here), and regularly rub elbows with literary greats (here and here) but he has also has been just about the best brother I could have asked for.


Eric grew up in Clovis, lived in San Diego, and got both his BA in English and his MFA in creative writing here at Fresno State. He currently lives in San Diego where he blogs and is working on a book project. Ever since I met him in 2004, Eric and I have talked about doing some daytime tours of the little towns that surround Fresno. Even though both of us have lived in the central San Joaquin Valley off and on for most of our lives, there are so many people and places right under our noses here that we want to check out and immerse ourselves in--a la Gay Talese or Susan Orlean, two of our favorite writers--just to see what we find.


Eric was in town this past week or so doing research for his book. We had a couple chances to get together for meals and to catch up. This past Tuesday afternoon, Eric and I went on a quickie tour of spots in Minkler, Reedley, Dinuba, Kingsburg, and Selma. Our first stop was the Minkler Cash Store on Highway 180 northeast of Sanger. We bellied up to the bar and visited with the owner, Mary, whose mother Sylvia knows my dad from his days as a truck driver at the former Central Valley Ready-Mix, and a local, Jeffrey, who was playing the piano when we got there. Mary said she remembered me from when I was a kid. We had a great visit with them and loved the organized clutter of the store.


Next stop was Uncle Harry's restaurant on G Street in Reedley. This is not the Uncle Harry's that most people know as a bagel shop. This is the Uncle Harry's of Harry Horasanian, a longtime restaurateur and a friend of my mother's family for generations. His Armenian food is well known by folks all over the valley and even my vegetarian brother Eric went animal style with the turkey kabob sandwich during our visit. He said when you're going local, you've got to do what the locals do. I'm pretty sure he didn't regret it.


We motored into Dinuba to visit my parents next. Eric snapped this shot of me and my mom before we left. But mostly, Eric and I hung out in the garage with my dad, playing billiards and ping pong. The results? Well, my dad did a lot of shit talking and beat everyone in billiards. But no one could touch me in ping pong. Eric held his own in both and he even shared a can of Olympia with my dad. I've never been a beer drinker and I think my dad has sometimes wished I was. But two out of three dudes (67%) kicking back an Oly on a hot summer day worked better for us than one out of two (50%).


We rounded out the tour with a stop at the Sun Maid raisin plant just outside of Kingsburg and a quick drive down Golden State Boulevard through Selma, past the famous Wilkins Drive-In, on our way back. The Sun Maid plant was a little disappointing because only the gift shop is now open to the public. No tours inside like back in the old days. But at least there were free samples, good conversation, and a few photo opps for two brothers who made time to take their own little tour of a couple places that had always been there.