Category Archives: Wags World
Taking A Freedom Ride On The Fourth Of July
By Bob Wagner, AAP Columnist
I’ve been locked up long enough! My cars have been spiffed up during the down time, and yearn to show off. Since you all can’t come to me, and all my car nut friends, I’ve developed a plan! On the Fourth of July, around mid morning, I’m taking to the streets. A few like minded (or whatever passes for a mind, with car nuts) aficionados will be driving through town in our cars and trucks, beeping horns and showing off.
Saying Goodbye To An Old Friend: My Red Truck
By Bob Wagner, AAP Columnist
I am still officially in mourning. My beloved old red truck has been sold. I no longer have four-wheel drive, and must forgo the summer surf fishing season, as far as driving on the beach is concerned.
Getting Schooled On Driving By The Book
By Bob Wagner, AAP Columnist
Having successfully driven 2,800 miles on the spring trip to Florida, I am once again safely sitting on my five-gallon bucket at the garage. Getting here this morning required a drive of eight city blocks. Not far, as compared to the trek south, but equally daunting, and twice as scary.
Springtime, Allergies And More On Bob The Cat
By Bob Wagner, AAP Columnist
Ah, the sweet smell of spring! Then the “ahs” become “ah-choo!” Sneezing and snorkeling go hand in hand with the balmy breezes. I’m just getting over the winter cold virus, and now transition to a pollen-induced drippy nose. At least I didn’t put away the tissues in my truck, shop, and every pocket of my jackets and shirts.
Updates On Denim Shirts And Homeless Cats
By Bob Wagner, AAP Columnist
My kids are dictating this month’s column. Apparently, friends and co-workers are clamoring for more information, and I have been called upon to update past stories. In particular, interest abounds regarding the fate of my favorite shirts, and more specific information about my new friend, Bob the cat.
Bob Hanging Out With… Bob
By Bob Wagner, AAP Columnist
I was sitting on my back steps yesterday, enjoying the sunshine, chatting with my new friend, Bob. Actually, I was talking, Bob was listening. Bob rarely speaks, as Bob is a cat. His presence in the neighborhood goes back to springtime, when he appeared in the alley, along with a few siblings, climbing in and out of my old wooden fence. We all generally ignored each other throughout the summer. The siblings seem to have moved on, but Bob remains.
Too Many Ideas Wandering Through A Busy Mind
By Bob Wagner, AAP Columnist
I am frequently faced with scratching out a column, due in minutes. I sit, staring at a blank page, and nothing comes popping out. Not so this month! I am forced to reign in my enthusiasm and try desperately to separate the cascading thoughts pouring out of my feverish brain.
Knowing Why There’s No Sun In The Sky…
By Bob Wagner, AAP Columnist
The constant march of thunderstorm clouds crossing the Delaware River, lightning flashing, thunder rolling, etc., is interesting, for a week. This weather pattern usually coincides with June graduations. Every year, for as long as I can remember, seats were set up inside school, and out. It was weather roulette for families of more than two, since the whole family can watch outdoors, but only two can sit inside.
This year, I have only had to water my impatiens twice. We traveled to New Mexico for eight days, and I knew when we arrived home in the middle of the night, I’d find shriveled flowers out front. Au contraire, mon frère! All the blooms are thick and happy. Rain, rain, go away, come again, preferably in California.
Reuniting And Opening Up With Old Friends
By Bob Wagner, AAP Columnist
Thanks to all of you who asked about missing me last month. It does the heart good to hear from folks who take the time out of their busy schedules to read whatever foolishness I’ve plopped on the pages of our town’s newspaper.
The reality is… I played hooky. I goofed off. I did what we all yell at our kids about: waiting ‘til the last minute. Then suddenly, the lights go out, everyone goes home, and you are sitting on the bench in the dugout, with no one to play with. Not so this month. I have hours to go before my plane leaves for Albuquerque. I will sit with my friends from 48 years ago, retelling old lies, and trying to remember what it felt like to be 19 years old, and invincible.
