On The Tandy Hills Thinking About Frita Fremont & Cattle-Ranching Fashionistas

Since I'd not been on the Tandy Hills for 24 hours, I thought I'd go there, for the 3rd day in a row, to get myself some salubrious endorphin inducing aerobic stimulation, to work up an appetite before returning to my abode for a Thanksgiving-like turkey lunch, minus anything to do with pumpkin or stuffing or sweet potatoes.

Typing 'potatoes' had me remembering when we had a vice president who thought that word should have no 'e'.

I thought my personal Pacific Northwest trainer, Frita Fremont was going to call me whilst I was on the Tandy Hills today so she could do some virtual hill hiking with me and urge me to go faster up the hills.

Frita Fremont has diagnosed the reason for my malady, of the past couple months, as being caused by a decrease in the amount of exercise I usually get, in part caused by the water in my pool being too cool to pleasantly swim in.

So, Frita Fremont has prescribed amped up hill hiking and mountain biking for me. I am hoping this increase in activity will alleviate me of my bulging beer gut before April, when Frita Fremont is tentatively scheduled to fly to D/FW for a roadtrip to South Padre Island.

Changing the subject from Frita Fremont back to the Tandy Hills.

As you can see, in the photo above, via the view from atop Mount Tandy, looking west across the wagon trail that heads towards the stunning skyline of beautiful downtown Fort Worth, it is a blue sky Sunday in North Texas, with a bit of a smoggy, pinkish haze in the mix.

It is another semi-warm day, almost 70, at this point in the mid-afternoon. It is so warm that I have opened my computer room window. I don't recollect doing that in January before. I'm still not feeling cool. I really don't feel like turning on the ceiling fan. Or the air-conditioner.

Changing the subject again, this time to Cowtown Fashionistas.

For awhile now, on my way to Oakland Lake Park or the Tandy Hills, driving west on Bridge Street, by Nolan High School, I've noticed a billboard advertisement has replaced the former one about not speaking out of ones tailpipe.

The message now on this billboard is CATTLE-RANCHING FASHIONISTAS LISTEN TO npr.

I believe npr is National Public Radio.

Fort Worth is known, locally, as Cowtown. I don't know if that has anything to do with cattle-ranching fashionistas.

Is the point of this message that I should be listening to NPR because well dressed local cattle ranchers listen to public radio? And that I should want to emulate the local well dressed cattle ranchers? Who listen to NPR?

Would this billboard ad work in other towns in America? I'm thinking it'd make even less sense in Los Angeles, New York City, Chicago, San Francisco, Seattle or Miami. It might work in Dallas. Or Oklahoma City. Or Amarillo.

Okay, I am really starting to seriously over heat. Could this be that dreaded male menopause thing I've heard about? Maybe I should go for a quick dip in the cool pool.