A FINE DAY FOR A BIRTHDAY PARADE

 Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Saturday was Trooping the Colour in London, the annual celebration of King Charles' birthday. His birthday is Nov. 14th, but the monarch's birthday celebration is held in June when the weather is nicer. 

King Charles rode in a carriage this year, rather than astride a horse, on the advice of his doctors. He has handled his cancer diagnosis and treaments with grace and dignity. 

Here, the king salutes the troops. King Charles served in the military from 1971 to 1994.

You might notice the black mourning armband he wore with his unform to show respect for the victims of the Air India crash on June 12th.

The Princess of Wales and Princess Charlotte were in good spirits. Princess Kate wore a sky-blue dress, with Charlotte in a somewhat lighter color. 

Someone else also had a birthday parade. The conviced felon birthday boy got up off his assets to salue. The only people who looked happy to be there were Hegseth and what's his name next to him. They must have smoked a big, fat doobie before their attendance was required. Melanoma looked miserable and the felon was bored.

Enthusiastic crowds always turn out for Trooping the Colour.

Meanwhile, in Washington, D.C., not so many people were there to watch.

Prince George and Prince  Louis are a good pair of brothers. George is 11 years old, and Louis is 7. I suspect Louis looks up to his big brother.

I know it's hard to tell, but this is Prince William. He spent seven-and-a-half years in full-time military service. 

Prince Harry (currently persona non grata) served in the Army for ten years.

The troops are always a sight to behold. It's a display of pomp, pageantry, and precision.

In Washington, D.C., troops in fatigues shuffled along.

King Charles is 76 years old. Long may he reign.

The felon in the White House is 79. Quickly may he disappear.

Celebrations were also held in other parts of the country.

Los Angeles, California

Portland, Oregon


Louisville, Kentucky

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

San Francisco, California

The White House

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

MY LITTLE GIRL

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Penelope was a sweet, gentle soul. For years after she joined us, she spent most of her time hiding behind various pieces of furniture because she was frightened of everything. Her Auntie Maureen, who loved her so much, helped her come out in the open to make friends with more people. 

Here, I couldn't put the foot rest down because Penelope
was hiding under it.

Penelope loved her human brother, her daddy (Sweet Cheeks), her Auntie Rebekah, and when Grandma (Carol) lived with us, she loved visiting Grandma in her room because if she stayed long enough, some Skinny Pop Pop Corn or Cheetos would come her way. 

She liked wearing jammies, jackets, or sweaters
when it was chilly.

A few years ago, she began limping. Dr. G. diagnosed her with arthritis. She took a joint supplement, and if necessary, a pain pill. I knew when she was in pain. I could see it in her big, brown eyes.

We had two prolonged cold spells this winter. The first one didn't bother her too much. After the second one, her arthritis seemed worse, so I responded accordingly with her meds. 

But then Penelope became much worse. She dragged a leg behind her at times. I hated taking her to Dr. G. He's very kind but leaving the house was terribly stressful for her. The dragging became worse, so I made the appointment.

Dr. G. needed to take x-rays. He left the room with Penelope and came back with sorrow on his face. He said he had never seen before what had happened to Penelope. Her right hip was fractured and her left hip was about to fracture. She had arthritis all along her spine. He couldn't do anything for her, and he was shocked. At her last wellness exam, she had been fine. All her blood values had been where they should be. Her arthritis was under control. She loved running and playing with Princess. 

I said, Put her down as quickly as you can. I don't want her to be in pain one second more.

He and the tech prepared. Penelope hid underneath me to the extent she could. I reached down and put my hand on her and spoke to her about what a good girl she was as she breathed her last. 

Princess was shocked when I returned without her best friend. We went through weeks of sorrow as Princess and I adjusted. Princess would lie on the floor with her chin on Penelope's bed. She wanted to go outside every few minutes. I knew she was searching for Penelope. 

Based on the information Dr. G. gave to me to look over when I wanted, she probably had some fast moving bone cancer. 

I'm sure Princess would like to have another dog friend, but we're not ready for that yet. For now, it's Princess and me taking care of each other.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

BRIAN WILSON IS GONE

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

All three Wilson brothers are dead now. Dennis––the drummer, the cute one, the only one who surfed––drowned in 1983 when he was 39. Carl played lead guitar, served as the band's musical director, and produced many of their albums when Brian's illness left him unable to do so. Lung cancer killed Carl in 1998 when he was 51. Brian's death was announced today, June 11, 2025. Cause of death hasn't been announced, but he was being treated for dementia. His 83rd birthday was coming up June 20th. Tributes to his genius have poured in. John Cusack, who portrayed Brian in the 2014 movie Love & Mercy, described him as having an ear that heard the angels. 

I published this post September 12, 2016, after Favorite Young Man and I went to see Brian Wilson in concert. It was a magical night, so I'll share it again now.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

No introduction. He didn't need one. He and his band simply walked on the stage.

He slumped at the piano, overweight and far from the kid who created The California Sound.

It didn't matter. Within seconds, everyone in the St. Augustine Amphitheater wished "they all could be California girls."

He turned over vocal duties to the bandmate at his side, from-the-beginning Beach Boy Al Jardine.

A few songs from Al and then he said, This is the first song I ever wrote. I was nineteen years old.

Al's son, Matt Jardine, sang, "Do you love me, do you surfer girl?"

My son shouted in my ear, That guy has a great fuckin' voice. (The fruit doesn't fall very far from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.)

It was true. Matt Jardine carried the vocals for the evening, backing up other singers or picking up in the middle of a line when Brian Wilson, seventy-four years old, reached the falsetto part that he once sang like an angel.

Matt Jardine would have and could have been the star of the show, but he was on the stage with the man who wrote the songs, the man who arranged the songs, the man who produced the recording sessions with a precision that defies my comprehension.

It's the Fiftieth Anniversary Tour of Pet Sounds, the album The Beatles admired so much that they responded with Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.

Several songs in, Brian said, Now we're going to do Pet Sounds.

And they did. One song after another, with the exception of the pet sounds, but it's not exactly a song. Following God Only Knows (Our Song, meaning Sweet Cheeks and me), a standing ovation led Brian to say, Thank you for the applause. Please be seated.

Through the album they went, until he said, This is the last song from Pet Sounds.

I mouthed Caroline No.

Good Vibrations followed Pet Sounds, but the night wasn't over.

They sang one much-loved song after another, until my throat hurt from begging Rhonda to "help me get her out of my heart."

Brian Wilson didn't sing much, and when he did, often it was more talk singing. He stayed behind the piano that he didn't touch often. Sometimes he swiped his hand across his forehead because it's September in Florida and it's hot and humid. Once he raised his hands as if to conduct the excellent, excellent musicians. He started the audience clapping along to one song.

No, he doesn't do a lot, but he doesn't have to and doesn't need to because he is Brian Wilson presenting the work of a lifetime.

About an hour and forty-five minutes in, he sang Love and Mercy and left the stage the second he reached the beginning of the final note. The others wandered off the stage. As we shuffled out of the amphitheater I could see Al Jardine still talking to people in the audience.

It lasted forever, yet it ended in a flash. 

TIPPECANOE AND TYLER TOO

 Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

John Tyler was the 10th president of the United States, serving from 1841 to 1845. So how can it be that his last living grandchild died only a couple of weeks ago?

The answer lies in one of the peculiarities that make Tyler a first, a most, and an only among presidents. 

At age 68, William Henry Harrison was the oldest person elected president until Ronald Reagan was elected at 69 (these days I think Reagan was practically a teenager). Harrison gave the longest inaugural address in history (two hours) on a rainy, cold day. He didn't wear a hat or coat. Then he rode through the streets in the inaugural parade, stood in a receiving line for three hours at the White House, and attended three inaugural balls, one of which had 1,000 attendees. He continued to push himself to unhealthy limits until he exhibited cold-like symptoms that became pneumonia. Doctors treated President Harrison with bloodletting, heated cups applied to his skin, and medications that induced vomiting. Mrs. Harrison wasn't with him when he died April 4, 1841. She was still packing to move to Washington. He had the shortest presidency in history––30 days. 

Vice President John Tyler heard the news April 5th. At age 51, he became the youngest president to date. He then established the precedent for handling the transfer of power. The Cabinet thought Tyler was a putz and decided he would be vice president acting president. Tyler decided he would be president. He had himself sworn in and moved into the White House. Tyler kept Harrison's Cabinet in place but informed then he would be responsible for his own administration.

Tyler was a member of the Whig party, but when he vetoed some of his party's bills, the Whigs kicked him out and gave him the nickname "His Accidency." He was the first president to have his veto overturned by Congress. Later, Tyler formed a third party. It had the ingenious name The Tyler Party and didn't last long.

Tyler came from a well-known Virginia slaveholding family, was an ardent supporter of states' rights, and owned numerous slaves himself. Tyler supported the Confederacy during the Civil War. The flag of the United States did not fly at his funeral––the first and only time such a thing occurred. Instead, a Confederate flag was draped over his coffin.

The Supreme Court had two vacancies during Tyler's presidency. The president submitted four choices. All were rejected––the most of any president. At the end of his term, one of his nominees was confirmed. The other seat remained empty until it was filled by the next president, James Polk. Did that inspire you, Mitchie-poo? Hey, did you know Mitch's first name is Addison? And he was in Tyler's Cabinet? tee-hee


Post-presidency, Tyler retired to the Virginia plantation he named Sherwood Forest. At 301 feet, it's the longest frame house in the U.S. The Tyler family still owns Sherwood Forest. It's open for tours. According to one of my sources, the family avoids the subject of slavery.

And now, the pièce de ré·sis·tance: The most recent owner of Sherwood Forest was Tyler's last living grandchild, Harrison Ruffin Tyler, who died May 25th, age 96. Yes, a man who died in 2025 had a grandfather who was born in 1790. As Carol said, John Tyler was a breeder. He had more children than any other U.S. president.

Wife #1: Letitia Christian –– They married in 1813. While John Tyler grew his political career, Letitia Tyler grew their plantation and their eight babies. 

Mary (1815–1847) 

Robert (1816–1877)

John (1819–1896) 

Letitia (1821–1907) 

Elizabeth (1823–1850) 

Anne (1825–1825) 

Alice (1827–1854) 

Tazewell (1830–1874)

Mrs. Tyler had a stroke and died in the White House in 1842. 

Wife #2: Julia Gardiner   –– John Tyler became the first president to marry while in office when he wed Julia in 1844. The marriage was problematic. The president's critcs argued he shouldn't have remarried so quickly and while in office. Futhermore, the two married in secret. And age was an issue. He was 54, and she was 24. Ain't that the way it always goes? 

 Julia Tyler was first lady for the final eight months of the Tyler presidency. Then the Tylers headed to their Sherwood Forest home to make babies. Seven of them.

David (1846–1927)

John Alexander (1848–1883)

Julia (1849–1871)

Lachlan (1851–1902)

Lyon (1853–1935) 

Robert Fitzwalter (1856–1927)

Margaret Pearl (1860–1947) John Tyler was 70 years old when Pearl was born. 

Harrison Tyler's father was Lyon, who followed in his father's footsteps by marrying a second time late in life, following the death of his first wife. Harrison was born to Lyon's second wife in 1928 when his father was 75.

Anybaby, that's how the 10th president of the United States had a grandchild who died recently. At least it was something in the news that didn't make me want to tear my hair out and run down the street screaming. 

 

Julia

Letitia

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug