COUSINELVIS

2009-12-05T09:46:00.002-06:00

unHAPPY HOLIDAYS

I'm not Scrooge, but my sense of wonder at the season of Christmas is MIA. I love the music of Christmas and have been known to listen to it long before or long after the holiday. I love the greenery,...I wish we could have a live tree, as we did early in our lives, but, for us, a fake tree makes more sense, since we are visiting relatives in the southeast for at least a week or two during the holidays. I do miss the evergreen smell, but I can get a candle to reproduce that fragrance. Maybe that's a symptom of what has become my attitude at this time of year. I only feel pressure of the rush,...to get our decorations up, to make plans about when we will be at my parents house and Amy's parents house,...to find just the right gift for all those on my list,....to balance make sure of the funds in the bank, not only to fund Christmas but to pay property taxes before the end of the year, so we get the tax write off, so that it will help fund Holden's tuition next year in hopes that, along with my bonus, check, if it comes on time, will be enough. So you see,...behind my calm demeanor of "laid backness" this is the fury,.....so maybe what's really inside is cracking the facade. Maybe my joy of the seasonal decorations has been robbed by seeing it as just another facade,....that is almost like the passing smile of a stranger,...it's sweet and kind and causes a brief moment of joy and inspiration that the world is maybe not so bad, but then creeps in the doubts, was it real, was it just an involuntary reaction, does it really mean that the world is good and not bad? I do love the idea behind Christmas, that God did send His One and Only child to our rescue,....but I have lost the ability to connect that with all of the trappings of the holiday season. It was so much easier when Holden was small and believed in Santa,....which is really not connected to the reason for the season. I should go see the new Christmas Carol animated movie today to possibly wake me up to a new vision of the holiday,.....that the season is really not about me and all my worries,....that though they are here every single day,....that there is something GREATER THAN me and my difficulties to celebrate.

2009-09-06T08:35:00.009-05:00

To be informed or not to be informed,...

I think it was Lincoln who said that a house divided cannot stand,....or was that someone in the Bible? It's almost the same,....I don't think Lincoln said anything that was stupid,...nothing on record, at least. No matter, the words are wise.

At this juncture, our nation seems divided. Sometimes it seems minimal, other times it seems like an impassable gulf between the two sides of conservatives and liberals. Recently, the gap has widened to a point that's almost scarey. It's reminiscent of that division over state's rights vs. federal rights.

"My way or the highway-ism" seems to be ramping up again on both sides of the aisle,...which is totally unAmerican. "Compromise" is a word of which our nation seems to have forgotten the definition,...much less has the ability to implement. Yet in the history of our union, Compromise was one vital thing our nation was built upon. It's not a dirty word for weaklings, and right now it needs to be brushed off and placed back in its rightful place in our American Patriotic Vocabulary.

Obama is supposed to speak to school children this week. There are some parents planning to keep their kids out of school because they don't want them to hear Obama's propaganda. Certainly they have a right to do that,...but is exercising that right, RIGHT or WRONG?

I can't remember a time when I believed that something a politician, not to mention The President, would say would effect my son negatively. Even if I didn't agree with what the President was saying,...that my son would listen to him in the first place would say to me that he was desiring and willing to be involved in the process, and listening to the speech would give him a crucial tool to be involved in the process,...information. This tool would allow him to discuss intelligently the ideas mentioned and formulate and express his own individual opinions about the content of the speech. It would not require that he agree with the President, but just listen. Become informed. Had I not allowed him to hear the speech or had he NOT actively listened, then he would be less equipped to be involved. I would rather him listen and be involved.

ACTIVE LISTENING by kids is always questionable. Though they may seem to be listening, may not be. Certainly they can surprise us at times with what they hear and retain and regurgitate, but if a man in a suit is giving a speech,....chances are our kids attention is only half there, at best. If it's a speech by someone with whom they identify(kids usually don't identify with the President, see them as cool),...then they are more apt to be actively listening. Now, if the political message is put into the lyrics of a Pearl Jam song, then we could count on them being nigh totally tuned in.

What do we think the subject matter of Obama's speech will be? Something detrimental to our children's well being? Will it be some mind controlling message about becoming pro abortion or supporting gay marriage or, God forbid, becoming a Democrat? Probably not.

Aside from the content, are Obama's persuasion skills THAT powerful? Is he that slick of an orator that he could command the complete attention of school children of all ages across the nation for whatever length of time he chooses to speak? People, he's good, but he ain't that good. If he can hold their attention and get his message across, then, he is definitely the best leader our nation has seen. Again, his countenence commands a certain amount of attention, but is nothing that special that would prohibit the eyes of our kids from glazing over after about 5 minutes.

I guess the scarey part of all this for me is that some of these people making these statements and threats about removing their children from school next week seem as though they won't acknowledge Obama as the elected leader of our nation. They seem to see him as only the mouthpiece of liberal Americans, whom they see as wayward Americans, since they don't see eye to eye with them on every issue or the most critical. Some wish to believe O to be the source of all of our nation's problems. The guy who has been in office less than a year is the creator and is liable for our nation's predicament more than the guy who was in office for the past 8 years? That just doesn't logically calculate for me. And seems a revisionist history at best.

Did anyone think about removing their child from the room when George H. W. addressed school children in 1991? I never thought once about prohibiting my son from listening to W., whom I didn't see eye to eye with on many things, was speaking. I had the right,...but never exercised the right, because I thought it would be wrong to not allow him the right to listen for himself, to process the information so that he could think and intelligently discuss and come to his own personal decision of whether the President was right or wrong. To be informed is right, to NOT be informed, is WRONG.

2009-08-30T07:11:00.008-05:00

Cats World

So last week, in preparation for hitting the gym this week, I walked ar

ound the neighborhood. It was great, serving a few purposes,...it allowed me to clear my head before the day, pray, observe some nice trees, plants, landscaping and lots of cats.

I don't know if my cats have heightened my awareness of other cats, but there seem to be a lot in my approximately one mile course which I kind of plotted on the fly. Obviously cats, quite different from the dogs who smell me 2 blocks over and begin their alarm/alert routine, look at me with a "what the hell are you doing on my street?" look and most of the time never speak.

Cats quietly stare, keeping an eye on me until I am out of sight. Dogs seem to want broadcast an alert for the cavalry to come get me,....cats seem to be gathering information about me so they can call in a hit on me in the night, under the cloak of darkness. Or they could just be wishing that I would stop obstructing their view and move out from the front of their big picture window television set.

I speak to some of the cats on my route, but they rarely reciprocate. If I approach them they usually run. But if they ran out to greet me, I would probably run. That hasn't happened, most likely will not either.

Whether they are viewing the world from the window sill or from an old metal lawn chair under the live oak, my glimpse of the neighborhood cats makes my blood pressure drop just to see their beauty, and their aloof attitudes toward their surrounding domain. I wish I had just a touch of their attitude/character to display in my world.

2009-06-29T19:23:00.003-05:00

Sudoku Psymon

So I have just started doing Sudoku. When I initially saw Sudoku, I immediately thought: Numbers, NO. Just as fast as you say those two words, I thought them and turned my attention to something else. I would say, I just don't do anything having to do with numbers,...that's not fun, that's work. I could as easily balance my checkbook and have just as much fun(I say no as quickly to that activity and rely on the internet to keep me updated through my online account).

I was asking my colleague in the office next to me about her opinion regarding the Jumble puzzle,...words I can do,...numbers, no. She then said she doesn't do words, but does Sudoku, but she actually said that she does SuDUKO. I asked, you mean SuDOKU,...and she looked at it and said,..I can't believe I have been pronoucing it wrong for this long. I said it's not a big deal, so I began calling it what she had, SuDUKO,...she said NO, you have to pronounce it correctly or I will never say it the right way. Anyway, she gave me the basics of Sudoku and I began playing.
Well, just in the past two weeks, I have attempted the puzzles every day. some I have completed successfully, some I have come near to completing only to find two identical numbers on one line,....and that's a BIG no no. That means something's wrong. That means if one number is wrong then many others are potentially wrong. That means that I pull my middle finger behind where my thumb joins my hand and quickly release it,...thumping a huge hole in the Sudoku puzzle. It's finished, I am finished. I will try again tomorrow.

On recent Saturdays, while my family has been away, I get up early and do the Sudoku or get my yard work done because it's going to be unbearably hot later in the day. This Saturday, I brew some coffee, grab the bag of shortbread that you may read about below, a pencil and begin to work the Sudoku puzzle on the kitchen table,...our ONLY table. I only get a few answers on paper, it really takes some figuring with some puzzles, most puzzles. If there were adding and subtracting involved, I would NOT be working these things, but it's all about patterns and that kind of challenges me. Early in the puzzle, deep into figuring what numbers I can fill in and the numbers I have to place in the upper left corner as possibilities, our male cat, Psymon, jumps up on the table(not supposed to be there, per Amy, but both cats know I am a pushover in that regard). He makes a pass purring, switching his tail, rubbing against my head that's down concentrating on the puzzle. Psymon makes another pass going the other direction. On his third pass, Psymon gets as close as possible to my pencil in the middle of writing a recent found discovered permanent number on the paper and my head, facing downward in concentration, and he parks his rump right on the paper and the Sudoku upon which I am focused. I gently pull it out from under him or shove him away(gently) and begin concentrating again. Psymon begins his same process again by passing by twice, switching tail and purring and again sits right in the middle of the section of newspaper upon which I am working. Worst of all, he doesn't even help with the answers, but sits as close as possible hoping that his fur that's rubbing off may provide some inspiration or correct answers. I have kind of figured that Sudoku Psymon is working on his own puzzle. And he has solved it rather quickly. His quandry is how to get me to pay attention to him. He has found a good solution that works every time.

2009-06-27T15:03:00.004-05:00

Shortbread Cookie Time!

I have not a scratch of food in this house. Family out of town, so I decided to have a little experiment,...see how long I could go without going to the grocery store. We have none of the stuff we usually have in the house to grab and eat quickly, which may be a great thing,...but not even fruit. I love fruit, especially apples. I honestly think an apple a day keeps the doctor away. At least I feel much better about myself when I am eating apples daily.

Last night at 11 PM I am craving some kind of sweets, so I look at two recipes, for sugar cookies and shortbread. My intention is to make sugar cookie dough and for none of them to make it to the oven,...but taking a slight detour to the refridge where they will cool off and acquire enough density to go under the knife and then into my mouth. Well, I check the recipe and it calls for an egg, guess what,....no eggs in the house,...I would have to nullify my experiment by going to the grocery for eggs, if I made them. I had breezed by the shortbread recipe, remembering it for possible future use,...and it came in handy. I had a little milk left in the fridge, but the recipe didn't call for it. I checked it out anyway, good thing the recipe didn't call for it,...I almost puked due to the smell and am struggling right now with just a fond memory. Poured that out in the sink and washed it down thoroughly. Thought about pouring someone's cologne down as a chaser,...it wasn't mine,...but I decided water would do an adequate job, with time.

Well I read the ingridients and saw that I had everything needed to make the recipe. 2 sticks of butter, check, 2 and a half cups of all purpose flour, check, 1 cup of corn starch, check, 1 cup of powdered sugar, check. Tossed it all in a bowl,...then read that I was supposed to put the butter and sugar in first and use electric beater to whip that to a creamy consistency,...oops,..so Greg improvises, determined to make this work. I got a big potato masher out and started muscling all that stuff into a mixture. After about 15 minutes of struggling, I looked for the electric beater,...found it, couldn't find the beaters. Said some choice words and went back to the potato masher. After 15 more minutes, decided to use the best mixer known to mankind,...hands. It was a nice texture,...like really dry play dough,...it was moist, yet brittle. After mixing it up a little more, decided to preheat the oven and put this mistake to the test.

Got out the cookie sheet with edges,...dumped the contents of the bowl on the metal sheet and began forming it and mashing it down,...trying to get it to a thickness that I know shortbread that I have bought has normally. After I was please with the look and the thickness, I put it in the oven.

The recipe said leave it in until golden brown. Almost immediately, this incredible smell filled the house. I thought, damn, did I cause that incredible baking smell with what I put on that cookie sheet? Wow! I had not even tasted my wares, but was already shockingly impressed that the smell was in keeping with something that should taste pretty good.

300 degrees was what the oven was set on and the recipe said it should stay in 25 to 30 minutes. I kept a close watch on the clock,...senseless to come this far and burn the product. I went over at 15 minutes, no golden brown showing yet,...went over at 25 minutes, it still looked the same! Left it in for 15 more minutes,...well, just beginning to see the edges brown a little. Decided that maybe it was just too thick and needed more time,...decided to leave it in 15 more minutes, which would mean it stayed in the oven a total of one hour.

It looked good coming out of the oven. Got the pizza cutter and began cutting the slab of shortbread into reasonably sized cookies,...not perfect, but tried to stay near to the size of the previously cut cookies. I was also pleased with the way the pizza cutter went through the shortbread slab. No breaking or crumbling,...great. I was kind of afraid extreme crumbling would occur, but thank goodness it did not. So, I immediately picked up a small outer piece, tossed it in my mouth and immediately began juggling it with my tongue, trying not to spit it out, because in my haste to taste, I failed to remember that it had just been removed from a 300 degree oven where it had been for one hour and was still able to sear the flesh on my tongue or the hide on the roof of my mouth. I have kind of perfected juggling hot food with my tongue because of my overly anxious nature to sample my cooking as soon as possible, so with that skill, I escaped injury.

Wow, it was not bad and was actually good. It seemed akin in a variety of ways, to other shortbreads that I had eaten, flavor being the most essential. Density was good, consistency of the cookie, the way it broke apart in my mouth were all signs that my latest cooking project had been a success.

Hopefully there will be no delayed signs of a bad batch, because right now, I think I did a good job. Just don't want to be doubled over tonight in excruciating pain as the shortbread makes it's way through the normal paths the rest of the food I eat traverses. So from a tall guy, try the short bread recipe. Easily impress those who know you don't usually cook.

2009-06-14T15:04:00.007-05:00

Shooting Range

I had good intentions of going to the gym after dropping my son off for his youth group trip. I was dressed and ready to go straight from the drop point. Only thing was, I am weak when it comes to early morning interruptions of intended plans when the interruption includes breakfast with a friend and the original plan included running. So I easily opted out of exercise for breakfast. After all it is the most important meal of the day. So at the restaurant I gave the appearance that I had been involved in some positive physical activities, but alas, it was a mere facade.

I enjoyed eating and chatting with a friend from work and his son. In the conversation over breakfast the topic of guns was broached. And it was decided that we would head to the indoor shooting range after breakfast was wrapped up,...not leftovers, I mean just finished, completed. My friend and his son stopped to get ammo, so I went home to change OUT of my athletic attire, though I would have been fine, just athletic looking.

I met them at the range and they were signing in and choosing a pistol to rent to shoot. They chose a Sig 226 9mm. I had only shot a 38 but had seen my Dad shoot his 357 magnum, both were loud, the overwhelming wall of sound alone seemed effective protection. We had ear plugs that were foam which you roll between your pointer and thumb to make smaller so they will fit in your ear canal, then expand to fill the canal and block the sound,...worked well, but you must just leave them alone,..if you touch them they will shrink and have to expand again, and the noise of people in other lanes firing their weapons reverberates in the enclosed room seemingly magnifying it. I was a little jumpy as it was, with muffled sound, but if the plug had not fully expanded, leaving a space in which sound could travel, then it increase the possibility of me not having to wait to go the the bathroom.

My shooting seemed to be up and to the left, so if I aimed down right, I would hit the center of the target. There was a little recoil, the pistol held 15 bullets in the clip and it fired easily and rapidly if you needed. We asked about the safety and one of the cowboy looking clerks said there's no such thing as a safety. He said people who use a safety are using it as a substitute for THINKING. I see the point, but I would still want a safety for people who should not EVEN be THINKING about shooting a weapon and who might not be able to figure out a needless crutch like a safety.

I was a little frightened by being this close to something that could kill me, but at the same time, it was kind of a rush. The range sold Osama bin Laden silhouettes, and so my friend bought three. He sent Osama down the lane on the zip line to about 9 feet. Brian said that most crimes happen within 9 feet, don't know how he hears this information, but it sounded good to me and I ain't looking it up. Osama was carrying what looked to be an AK47, so in real life, our aim had better be good from the first shot. Brian did knock him right out with the first shot to the skull. We were safe. All troops can come home. We can stop looking for him in Pakistan too. We not only found Osama on American soil, but found him conveniently in our lane at the gun range and we quickly took him out of commission. Can't wait for the fake reward money.

Well, having fought our imaginary war on terror, and emptied many a cartridges of 9mm ammo, and done it all in the air conditioned confines of an indoor shooting range, having accomplished so much, I felt it was time to take a nap, so I headed back to my military compound for a little siesta after a new experience.

2009-06-09T09:11:00.002-05:00

Was walking on the Elliott's ranch one morning and was startled by a bird that I startled. He flew in fear of being stepped on. It looked to be a quail, but we had just had a conversation about how quail numbers in Texas were low, due to fire ants. So after my stomach descended from my throat, I looked closer from whence the bird had come, to find a cache of eggs. No bigger than the tip of my pinky. I was expecting to immediately hear the call of the Killdeer, which is loud and very noticeable, but I didn't hear that, nor did I see the familiar dance of the Killdeer, as the parent tries to lure the intruder away from the nest by feigning injury,...an when you are near to them and away from the nest, they suddenly take flight. None of that circus happened, so I thought how ironic that it should be a quail after our conversation of how the menacing fire ants,....which I stepped in about five minute after this photo was taken,....had dropped the numbers. Maybe this quail found the right place,...it was on a rocky patch,..so maybe this quail took to heart the message of Jesus about where to build your house.

2008-03-18T19:56:00.008-05:00

BOI!!!!!

This is my version of some of the photos I have seen of my son's female teen friends. This seems to be the most popular pose of his high school friends on MYSPACE pages. The first question that comes to my mind is,...."WHY?" The next is, "Is that the best you can do?" Maybe if some saw this pose, it just might "drive" or "bring home" the point for them. It's definitely not a flattering look for me, for sure. It could be a little more acceptable with teenagers, but surely there's a better pose. SURELY. Where's their imaginations that might afford them the ability to strike a different and better pose? Okay, so I can accept the fact that maybe I am not doing it right, or the way they do it. Maybe my age and gender have a lot to do with the ugliosity of this shot. Another question comes to mind, "Should my pursed lips go in the opposite direction of my eyes?" Would that make the photo a success? Well, I know the peace sign should be raised a little higher too,...but I don't think that would improve my look,...in what has become the traditional teen MYSPACE photo pose. As a matter of fact, I might consider entering this in a gerners contest,...you know, the contest at some of those state fairs where people compete to see who can make the ugliest, weirdest, wackiest face? I think I could at least place with this image! Maybe we have shirked our responsibilities and have not taught our kids how to be appropriately glamorous? Don't they ever look at magazine covers? I mean, even the cover model of Dog Fancy has a more fetching relationship with the camera than I do in this photo, and possibly some of those darlings on MYSPACE. Could it be that with the advent of digital photography, which gives the user a near limitless number of shots, that maybe they just don't care. You know, in the olden film days, processing was both time consuming and expensive, so we had to make every shot count or we would be paying for the development of failure, which we really didn't have time for and couldn't afford. And who wanted to see those failures anyway? No one,....we HAD to look good in ALL photos. We had our pride, our vanity. Maybe teens of today are more real and more at ease with themselves than we of the film processing era were. And therefore maybe our teens today have a stronger self esteem, self-image. It could be that they are not afraid of the camera, or failure, or of looking bad in front of a lot of people they know, and even strangers. Possibly???NAAAAA! Who am I kidding? These kids care what they look like,.....but they just need better lessons in vanity and pride and how to be vogue. They need to pay a little more attention to Vanity Fair and Cosmo,...to possibly pick up some modeling tips for the camera. After all, our nation, and the world is concerned with who's going to take over from the Super Model's of today once their smile has lost its gleam. Tomorrow we will need those shoes filled with the right women in order to keep America they way she is today! Looking good! And as Madonna said,.."Strike a pose, Vogue!"

2008-01-26T07:51:00.000-06:00

Yet another sign of age creeping up on me,....the thrill of things that up until now have been totally insignificant. My most recent is my love and appreciation of those large, plastic, roughneck garbage cans. We had my son's youth group over last night and we had purchased a roughneck garbage can,....but not for the can,.....for the LID! My son had to create a Spartan costume and needed a shield and,...by George, if you spray paint the lid with bronze and use a couple of pieces of duct tape for straps on the back,....you got yourself a pretty strong replica of a Spartan shield,....I don't think that was mentioned on the trash can's accompanying labels and advertisements. Anyway, I love this trash can for its simple large opening and the ability to easily line it with a large black yard bag without tearing it or tying knots in it to make it fit. I love its depth and capacity,...the sheer volumes of trash which it can hold in comparison to my regular kitchen trash can which is much more sleek, shiny and presentable,...made of some silver polished metal. But let me also tell you that even with trash cans,....looks aren't everything.

2007-10-18T08:00:00.001-05:00

The Orangade Skies of Northeast Alabama

2007-10-14T00:21:00.000-05:00

It's been such a Long Time

That's the name of a Boston song,...from my youth,.....which was a long time ago,....it's beginning to seem. Last year, it was just yesterday. Welcome to middle age. Middle age makes me tired. I am so tired of thinking about what I eat and what I do. Am I eating the right things,....will I pay for it later,...do I have enough acid reducers for tonight and if I am on a business trip and forgot them,....then I MUST make a stop at the drug store,....just in case,.....I need some insurance,...in case I start living in the past and think I can eat three pieces of pepperoni pizza without paying the piper. Geez,...I sound old too. Well,...I have embraced my age,....maybe too prematurely,.....no pun intended,....but a friend got me an OLD GUYS RULE t-shirt, which I wear with pride. The sub-caption is: The older I get, the better I was! My other favorite is Old Guys Rule,...there's an old looking car emblem V-8, and encircling it is the phrase: "High Mileage, Low Maintanence". Gotta have that one! You know, I might as well laugh,....cause Boys don't cry,....says The Cure. There,..I just dated myself again, with that comment. Talk about shootin yourself in the foot!

2006-11-02T11:57:00.000-06:00

The Four Stages of Life

2006-10-30T15:47:00.000-06:00

Deep Fried Coke

Though I have never been to the Texas State Fair, every year I hear about the frying of some new food. Not okra or squash, but things you wouldn't normally think of eating deep fried. Last year it was a Snicker's bar. This year it was deep fried Coca Cola. Kind of hard to picture, huh? Evidently they took balls of Coke syrup, possibly frozen, rolled them in batter and deep friend them. Not sure if I would have the guts to have tried it or not. Now that my gall bladder is gone, I literally don't have the guts to do it!

2006-10-27T15:09:00.000-05:00

SONG LEADER REVOLUTION

No, it's not a rebellion of musical types to overthrow the preacher types,....Get your X-Boxes ready.

This parody is hilarious. I think you have to be of a certain religious persuasion to fully get it. Enjoy. http://youtube.com/watch?v=9qzrkUnjtRU

2006-10-26T12:15:00.000-05:00

Tired of Telemarketers?

A friend sent this link to me. It's a guy who found a clever and hilarious way to get rid of one of those pesky telemarketers. Click the link and listen. http://howtoprankatelemarketer.ytmnd.com/

2006-10-25T16:20:00.000-05:00

Another Rocker

Holden loaned this picture to me last night. Another Rocker. Maybe he's working on a series? He shows some serious artistic potential, not that this is ready for hanging in the Kimbell, but I do see a good grasp of perspectives and and eye for detail(see his skater shoes). He has good shading and good contrast, too. This young rocker is not striking a typical pose either. With head down, this, like the previous sketch, is another working rocker portrait, not so much a posed as it is a slice of life.

I felt bad last night and today, cause I had really ridden him about his seeming lack of effort in studying for his Integrated Physics and Chemistry(IPC) class. Then, this morning there were other incidents that pointed to his difficulty in handling responsibility. I was in a funk all morning, I hope I didn't put him in one. However, this is life. It's not always a three ring circus and a bed of roses. We must all deal with the consequences of our actions and sometimes the actions of those around us, especially if they are our own flesh and blood. This is a lesson he should learn sooner than later. And maybe I could stand a refresher course.

2006-10-16T19:09:00.000-05:00

Beatlesque Drawing

Early Monday morning we had a leak around our chimney flashing from a significant amount of rain that we received and needed badly. Well, it got some books and papers wet which were in a basket on our hearth. Among them was this sketch my 14 year old drew recently(maybe in church). He was bummed and just threw it away,...but I salvaged it and let it dry and kept it cause I like it. I like the very stylized look of the hair.

My son didn't tell me it was a Beatle,...but aside from him being right handed, he sort of looks like a young Paul,...so maybe this is John? That was my first impression, anyway. He has had some Beatle exposure. We did go to England last summer and we did take a Beatles Walking Tour in London and a lot of photos,..and I did buy an Abbey Road poster for his room,....so those factors might have slightly influenced or inspired him in this sketch.

One other thing I like about Holden's picture of this rocker is his look of teen angst. With gritted teeth, no eye expression is given or needed to let us know he's serious. His angry, intense mouth also compliments his "in motion"right hand/arm, rapidly grinding his axe. The guitar is nice too. I am not sure why he took out the left arm/hand/shoulder,...though, personally(as his father), I find that it lends the work a certain Venus de Milo quality.

2006-10-16T08:27:00.000-05:00

Vintage Postcard Website

A friend recently sent me a link to a great website with vintage postcards from the USA, arranged by state and county. This is one from Tarrant County, Texas. It's the old Stock Exchange building and the old coliseum on the north side of Fort Worth, where the cattle drives ended and where cattle was traded and where they held the annual Fat Stock Show and Rodeo. I have a small collection of vintage postcards and am attracted to them for their ideal, hand tinted look and because they give a glimpse into a seemingly simpler time, which I find myself longing for more often, especially after I watch the evening news. There are some great cards there, even some from tiny, out-of-the-way towns. Check them out at: http://www.rootsweb.com/~usgenweb/special/ppcs/ppcs.html .

2006-10-09T18:00:00.000-05:00

The Simple, Forgiving Amish

I read a letter to the editor today that made me want to cry. It was about the tragic murders committed in the Amish community in Pennsylvania. It wasn't tears of anger and hatred for the senseless taking of innocent lives that I had,...nor was it tears of grief and sorrow for the loss of those families,....though both were feelings that had coarsed through my veins at one time or another while contemplating this horrible event. My tears were for my sorry, selfish, idea of Christianity. I realized when I completed reading this editorial that I have made my faith, MY faith,....not the faith that Jesus, the Christ taught. I have watered down and approved my American Rights! "Christian" feelings for violence and vengence against the forces of evil and darkness in our world. Things Jesus NEVER taught. I was so humbled by this editorial in today's Fort Worth Star Telegram. I pray that I may have so great a faith to preach more with my actions than my words, as the Amish do.

I wonder if what happened in Lancaster County, Pa., has really been noticed by the American public? Something amazing happened in that bucolic place, so shattered by the murders of its most innocent. It seems that we all could learn something from the people who live there, shunning the modern world to follow their faith.

Only hours after the murders, elders of the Amish community went to the home of the killer to meet with his wife. And what did they say to the wife of the man who had inflicted so much pain on their community? Did they place blame? Did they condemn her to hell? Did they seek revenge? No, they were there to forgive, to offer their support in her time of need and despair. They were there to make real the true message of Christ: forgiveness.

I recall this message of forgiveness from my early life in the church, but during the past 20 years this message has been lost. It's been replaced by those who seek power instead of moral authority.

You know them. They bark at you from television and radio and in the voting guides they place in your churches. They claim moral authority, but in their angry message of hate and nonforgiveness, they seek to place blame instead of promoting healing in the world. They are, without a doubt, demagogues in the public forum, but, more important, they're "demigods" in their own minds.

I wonder if the Revs. Jerry Falwell, Pat Robertson and James Dobson would have been so "Christian" as the Amish? One needs only to recall Falwell's assertion after 9-11 that God was taking revenge on America with that horrible event because of the "gay agenda" and abortion.

In rural Pennsylvania, in the light of a cool fall day, in the fullness of the harvest, and in the midst of horror, true Christianity was shown to us all. Forgiveness, love, hope and charity -- all the things I was taught about my "faith" and all the things my "religion" has forgotten.

We should all humble ourselves before this true Christianity. The Christian right needs to take note of what it really means to follow the message of Christ and, as Americans, we should all learn a great deal from this event. The Christian in me hopes so. The realist has many doubts.

Dwight G. Hartwick, Fort Worth

2006-10-06T06:48:00.000-05:00

Another Surgery

Looks kind of like a stuffed poblano pepper at El Chico's, doesn't it? Well,...it's a gall bladder full of stones. Yesterday, I had this removed from my body. This isn't mine,...however it could have been. They punched 5 holes in me and took it out around 1PM,....then I went home about 6PM. This is amazing and near miraculous. Anytime you can opt for minimally invasive surgery,....do it! I am in a little pain,....however not significant,....and have hydracodone to assist me with that. Some of my friends who had the same surgery said that they actually enjoyed the surgery. Though that seems an extreme exaggeration,....I could honestly say that it was enjoyable compared to my appendectomy; a walk in the park in comparison.

I registered in the lobby(like checking into a fine hotel), paid my portion of the surgery,...10% of about $5K,....which I could say was the most painful part of the whole deal,...but getting the IV started was $500 stressful to me,...ironically the burning pain medication they shoot you with to numb the spot where they start the IV is the largest source of the pain in that process.

Once they got my IV started they gave me something that felt like about three martinis and I got fuzzy and drifted off. I had to wait for my surgical time slot to roll around. I guess things were backed up because my original 11:15 spot,....turned into a 1:15 start time. The surgical holding room was crowded with about five beds on each wall with 3 feet between them, all the surgical holding nurses, all of the anesthesiologist and CRNA's and surgeons, all of the surgical nurses,....I thought a medical version of waiting in line to ride the Titan at Six Flags. Some folks would get there after me and then be whisked away to their appointment with the knife,....unlike Six Flags, I wasn't too upset that they cut line. The nurse told me it was even more crowded in the early morning.

I had a nice sunset scene gel covering the florescent light panel above me. The nurse I had was very conversational, which was better than laying there in silence conjuring up worst case scenarios. I guess that's why they gave me the nice cocktail before to allow me to sleep.

Then the time came and three Anesthesia guys came in and two surgical nurses wheeled me down to the OR. It was freezing cold in there,....it looked like every OR you have seen in the movies or on TV. They put an oxygen mask on me,....and then I remember waking up in recovery,....not really wanting to, cause the sleep was so good. The first two questions I asked were, did they complete the surgery with a scope(minimally invasive) or did they have to cut me,....thank goodness it was the scope! Then the other question I asked was did they have to catheter me. Again, the answer I wanted,...NO CATHETER! I was hungry,...I was sitting in a reclining chair,....which I barely remember crawling into with my groggy self. They had a small TV I could bring close enough to be in my face. I had a sumptuous meal of water, Shasta cola(where'd they dig that up?)a regular saltine and a graham cracker. The big moment they were waiting for in order to release me was for me to pee. I thought it would be a piece of cake,...I felt the urge,..however was unable to produce the first two times,....we walked for a little while and I came back and peed ever so slightly and they asked if I wanted to go home. Again, a response I was longing to hear.

I feel fine, though I look like the victim of a drive by, with five, taped up, bloody holes in my gut. I got my drugs,...I can doze as I wish today and recover in peace, so I can go to work Monday.

2006-09-20T22:31:00.000-05:00

The Goat Profiles,...these photos were taken in a rural community two hours southwest of Fort Worth.

2006-09-20T22:24:00.000-05:00

Day Lilies Bloom

Don't know why,...but they did. They are in an out of the way spot in our backyard and we hardly ever see them until it's too late. Amy cut them and put them on the table for our maximum enjoyment. I think they're kind of exotic looking. Not your run of the mill lily.

2006-09-11T22:58:00.000-05:00

Krystal's is HERE!

It seems that all of the wishes that I made since we arrived in the Dallas area are coming to true. All of these wishes center around food that's not really good for you(or anyone else), that I experienced growing up in the southeast. The first acquisition we got in town was Memphis style pork BBQ at a Red, Hot and Blue restaurant. Second, we got a Krispy Kreme,...thank goodness the lines have subsided. Now to complete the hat trick, Krystal's opened a few weeks ago. I have had a Krystal burger once a week since I found out they were in town. Initially my son told me, and I refused to believe the truthfulness of his statement,....not that my son would lie about something as serious as Krystal's, but he could easily be mistaken as 8th graders are so prone to be. It wasn't until our youth minister, who is also from the southeast and familiar with Krystal's, broke the good news unto me that I finally saw the light and believed. I did not walk the aisle to express my faith in his statement that Krystal's had truly come into the metroplex, I just trusted his words and drove to the place that he had told me he had seen the light and smelled the grease. By faith I drove there as soon as we drove back into town from a youth retreat weekend. I partook and I was saved. BTW, those aren't Krystal hamburgers in the photo,.....they are way too thick to be Krystal's,...they should be paper thin patties and we should see a hint of yellow mustard and grilled onion jibblets. I just remembered,...they are open 24 hours! I wish I had not.

2006-09-11T16:33:00.000-05:00

The Hoyts

[From Sports Illustrated, By Rick Reilly]I try to be a good father. Give my kids mulligans. Work nights to pay for their text messaging. Take them to swimsuit shoots. But compared with Dick Hoyt, I suck.Eighty-five times he's pushed his disabled son, Rick, 26.2 miles in marathons. Eight times he's not only pushed him 26.2 miles in a wheelchair but also towed him 2.4 miles in a dinghy while swimming and pedaled him 112 miles in a seat on the handlebars--all in the same day.Dick's also pulled him cross-country skiing, taken him on his back mountain climbing and once hauled him across the U.S. on a bike. Makes taking your son bowling look a little lame, right?And what has Rick done for his father? Not much--except save his life.This love story began in Winchester, Mass., 43 years ago, when Rick was strangled by the umbilical cord during birth, leaving him brain-damaged and unable to control his limbs. ``He'll be a vegetable the rest of his life;'' Dick says doctors told him and his wife, Judy, when Rick was nine months old. ``Put him in an institution.''But the Hoyts weren't buying it. They noticed the way Rick's eyes followed them around the room. When Rick was 11 they took him to the engineering department at Tufts University and asked if there was anything to help the boy communicate. ``No way,'' Dick says he was told.``There's nothing going on in his brain.''"Tell him a joke,'' Dick countered. They did. Rick laughed. Turns out a lot was going on in his brain.Rigged up with a computer that allowed him to control the cursor by touching a switch with the side of his head, Rick was finally able to communicate. First words? ``Go Bruins!'' And after a high school classmate was paralyzed in an accident and the school organized a charity run for him, Rick pecked out, ``Dad, I want to do that.''Yeah, right. How was Dick, a self-described ``porker'' who never ran more than a mile at a time, going to push his son five miles? Still, he tried. ``Then it was me who was handicapped,'' Dick says. ``I was sore for two weeks.''That day changed Rick's life. ``Dad,'' he typed, ``when we were running, it felt like I wasn't disabled anymore!''And that sentence changed Dick's life. He became obsessed with giving Rick that feeling as often as he could. He got into such hard-belly shape that he and Rick were ready to try the 1979 Boston Marathon.``No way,'' Dick was told by a race official. The Hoyts weren't quite a single runner, and they weren't quite a wheelchair competitor. For a few years Dick and Rick just joined the massive field and ran anyway, then they found a way to get into the race officially: In 1983 they ran another marathon so fast they made the qualifying time for Boston the following year.Then somebody said, ``Hey, Dick, why not a triathlon?''How's a guy who never learned to swim and hadn't ridden a bike since he was six going to haul his 110-pound kid through a triathlon? Still, Dick tried.Now they've done 212 triathlons, including four grueling 15-hour Ironmans in Hawaii. It must be a buzzkill to be a 25-year-old stud getting passed by an old guy towing a grown man in a dinghy, don't you think?Hey, Dick, why not see how you'd do on your own? ``No way,'' he says.Dick does it purely for ``the awesome feeling'' he gets seeing Rick with a cantaloupe smile as they run, swim and ride together.This year, at ages 65 and 43, Dick and Rick finished their 24th Boston Marathon, in 5,083rd place out of more than 20,000 starters. Their best time'? Two hours, 40 minutes in 1992--only 35 minutes off the world record, which, in case you don't keep track of these things, happens to be held by a guy who was not pushing another man in a wheelchair at the time.``No question about it,'' Rick types. ``My dad is the Father of the Century.''And Dick got something else out of all this too. Two years ago he had a mild heart attack during a race. Doctors found that one of his arteries was 95% clogged. ``If you hadn't been in such great shape,'' one doctor told him, ``you probably would've died 15 years ago.''So, in a way, Dick and Rick saved each other's life.Rick, who has his own apartment (he gets home care) and works in Boston, and Dick, retired from the military and living in Holland, Mass., always find ways to be together. They give speeches around the country and compete in some backbreaking race every weekend, including this Father's Day.That night, Rick will buy his dad dinner, but the thing he really wants to give him is a gift he can never buy.``The thing I'd most like,'' Rick types, ``is that my dad would sit in the chair and I would push him once.''Here's the video....http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ryCTIigaloQ

2006-09-09T08:59:00.000-05:00

Fake Ticket

You don't have to miss any concert with this handy ticket maker. Since I never saw The King,...I thought I would like to see just what one of those stubbs would look like. The web address is at the bottom of the ticket,...but for you far sight folks it's: www.says-it.com/concertticket/ . Have fun! Great for Birthdays too!

2006-09-02T01:24:00.000-05:00

Lemon Drop

This is a very sweet and lemony drink that came into vogue during the 1970s in California. It is now a favorite drink of the West Coast. The drink was developed at a now defunct bar called Henry Africa's in San Francisco, a well-known singles bar. At Henry Africa's bar, they developed and pushed "girl drinks" - drinks that are potent, yet sweet enough to cover the taste of alcohol. Think of the lemon drop candies! After making and sampling many different recipes, my husband and I declared this recipe our favorite alcoholic drink!

1 1/2 ounces vodka
1/2 ounce Triple Sec
1 teaspoon superfine sugar
3/4 ounce freshly squeezed lemon j uice
Ice cubes
Superfine sugar for dipping
Twisted peel of lemon

Mix the vodka, Triple Sec, sugar, and lemon juice in a cocktail shaker half-filled with ice; shake well (supposedly the cocktail is to be shaken 40 times to make sure the sugar is well blended). Pour strained liquor into sugar-rimmed martini glass and garnish with a twisted peel of lemon.
NOTE: To create a sugar-rimmed glass, take a lemon wedge and rub the drinking surface of the glass so it is barely moist. Dip the edge of the glass into sugar.

Makes 1 serving.

2006-09-02T01:18:00.000-05:00

The reason I'm sneezing and wheezing,...my side of the bed!

2006-09-02T00:59:00.000-05:00

Big Cherry Spoon

This is a work in the sculpture garden in Minneapolis taken in the wee small hours of the morning a few weeks ago. I have no idea what the name of this work is,....probably something very obvious, like "big cherry in an even bigger spoon", I don't know the artist,...but I remember it being in my college art appreciation book, so it was cool to see in person. There were some famous artists represented by their works in this jewel of a sculpture garden that the bartender in our hotel told us about(she also made us a couple of Lemon Drops that were excellent, see recipe above). It was cool in the mornings there,.....50's,....so it was nice to stop for coffee after a long walk.

2006-08-28T10:25:00.000-05:00

A Screwtape Letter Parody for Today's Confidently Pious

My Dear Warmwould,

I would that you keep those so called devout "holier than thou" Christians enslaved to the law, for in that they become dependent upon themselves and their own works, and make less significant the power of the death, burial and resurrection that truly saves them. Then they will preach this and others will think that they can impact their salvation also! Then Jesus's sacrifice will be for naught. Though the sacred Christians will continue to speak good words about Him as though they need Him and trust in Him for their salvation, their actions will not be in sync with their words. They will work themselves into the fiery pits of Hell, with my colleagues and me.

Also, maintain their interest in keeping the law that was nailed to the cross and see that they continually make waves and cause rifts to form among Christians who don't do everything exactly like them and seem "less Christian" than they. This will divert their attention away from those who are TRULY lost because they have NEVER heard of Jesus, the Christ. And where these high and mighty Christians have preferences about worship and other issues, but no scriptural, God given laws, assist them in making up laws to enforce and bind on other believers. Convince them that they can keep the law perfectly, as Jesus did.

Where there are passages about freedoms and liberty in Christ, make them skip those and avoid those verses in their precious Bibles at all costs! Don't let them read First Corinthians 10:23-30 nor Galations 5:2-15. If they read it, make them think that it doesn't mean what it really says. Keep them enslaved to the law! Assist them in finding more and more laws to take the burden that Jesus bore for them and to place it back upon humanity, so that they are woefully in control of their salvation as they were before Jesus came. They couldn't do it then, but help them to think that they can do it now!

Continue to entice them to make mountains out of mole hills. Again, these type of issues, water down the sacrifice of Jesus and keep their attention on matters that will not, do not, and cannot save them. It diverts their attention from the Cross. They will diligently preach these trivial matters and NOT preach about that which saves. This fits exactly into my plan of divide and conquer. Never allow them to see that they are united in the cross of Jesus. Keep their attention on anything but their unity! If they unite under the Banner of Jesus as the Messiah, they will do much damage to the work I have accomplished and set in place!

Keep those Christians believing that they "have arrived". Deceive them into believing that they are really good people and can keep the law and contribute to their salvation. Again this will divert their attention away from what actually saves them and they will convert others to their way of thinking that their righteousness is actually of value to God,...and that they can actually help the Omnipotent One and that God really needs them, instead of them needing God. Also remember that their pious attitudes will also serve our purposes in "running off" those who are truly interested in Jesus. Some will also go away because they fear that they cannot keep the law as perfectly as these pious "brothers" have portrayed that they keep the law. Prevent these true seekers from actually seeing the fallible and frail humanity of these pious Christians so they will STAY FAR AWAY from the Gospel of Jesus!

These are the exact tactics that you took with the Pharisees, and it worked lovely on them! Lull them into an attitude of self confident piety. Make them feel that they are the sole bearers and protectors of the Truth. Again, it worked on the Pharisees,...and it seems to be working on these self righteous fellows who say they follow Jesus. In utilizing this old strategy you will not have to re-invent the wheel,...for you know that time is of the essence! So, if it ain't broke, don't fix it. Continue to use that tactic in this age, as you did in the past, but don't allow these "holier than thou" Christians to actually see their own image in the Pharisees. Disguise their images in their mirrors so they will be blinded to what they really are. Help them to see the good in the Pharisees and help them to believe that the Pharisees weren't all that bad.

Let's continue to divide believers in Christ with those ultra pious believers. Then let's sit back and watch effective Christians spin their wheels, as we conquer those who don't know Jesus and will not know Him because the Christians are too busy with in-fighting and trying to convert people to their way of thinking rather than converting them to Jesus, the Christ. They will continue in their dogmatism and their frivolous activities and quarrels and arguments over issues of no importance. Keep up the good work with those Saints who believe they have it all right! We could really use them up there to get more down here.

Until next time, I am affectionately,

Your Uncle Shrewtape

Read The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis

2006-08-24T15:00:00.000-05:00

Pointless Photo

2006-08-20T21:36:00.000-05:00

Stray Cat

Last Wednesday evening, I was in the Minneapolis airport 2 hours ahead of my flight departure, as requested,...had no gells or liquids to get rid of before taking off. We were in a good airport to kill time,...the Minneapolis airport is one big mall. We had several selections for food and were having a difficult time deciding,....my two colleagues and I. I really wasn't that hungry. We finally decided on Wolfgang Puck Express. Then we had to find it. Looked at the map, went to where we thought the map directed us but there was only a small bar with many businessmen tanking up for the flight home. So we decided to just find something else, and as soon as we said that, there it was. As we walked into the restaurant I noticed someone that I thought I knew from my college days,....not a student at a conservative Christian college, he was too cool for that. This guy had his "hair piled high and his baby looked so right",....yes it was Brian Setzer of the Stray Cats of the early 80's. It could not have happened at a more opportune moment, since I had my digital camera easily accessible in my jacket pocket,...I had a pen for an authograph,...he was just waiting for a beer at the bar,....all was set for me to get all the normal fan paraphenailia,....but I chickened out. I thought I didn't want to disturb him, call attention to him, ruin his privacy. My colleagues assured me that he probably would be glad for someone to remember him and notice him. He might get a thrill if I would say something. Well,...I let him finish his beer and then I let he and his companion walk out. He was less than a foot from me. That cool rockabilly hip cat from my college era. The Rock This Town Stray Cat Struted right out of there and presumably to his flight to Los Angles. I was content and just greatful to have seen an 80's icon,...and a pretty good guitarist. I was satisfied. No regrets. Hey, I'm no groupie! Now had it been Belinda Carlisle,...I might have slipped on my drool,...depending on how far GONE that GO GO was.

Ironically, when I arrived at the Dallas airport that evening, I saw a REAL stray cat. I was riding the bus to the remote parking lot and we were picking up passengers in terminal E, when the bus driver sharply applied his brakes, I looked up in time to see a beautifully patterned cat darting in front of the bus, then wildly leaping for a pidgeon. He missed and strutted back across the street in front of us. The bus driver laughed appreciating that cat's beauty, prowess and spunk, as I did also. I saw two stray cats strutting in one day. Both were ultra cool cats.

2006-08-20T16:10:00.000-05:00

IMOGEN HEAP

I was listening to chillout music on Yahoo Launchcast this afternoon and I heard a sound, a song that really struck me as interesting and significant. Imogen Heap is the artist. The name of the song is "Hide and Seek",....really nice melody. Cool techno voice box modulator(at least that's my description of what I think is going on,...though I am sure there's a more accurate layman's term for the device,...all I know is it sounds really cool). I always notice the music first,...and while doing that, I have no idea what the lyrics say,....I just pray they aren't saying "go sacrifice a goat to your grandmother" or worse. I don't think the lyrics of this song say that, though(they are below). I went to her website: www.imogenheap.co.uk and then went to the You Tube site, which was linked, and watched some of her other videos. There was one of girl playing her song Hide and Seek on the piano, and she is/was definitely worthy of a listen. After listening to that, it kind of drove home the point to me about just how haunting the melody of this song is. Now I guess I should read the lyrics. Check it out! You can listen to her complete latest album, which includes her song "Hide and Seek" at: http://www.imogenheapmedia.co.uk/audio/player/player.html

'Hide and Seek'

Where are we?
what the hell is going on?
the dust has only
just begun to fall
Crop circles in the carpet
Sinking feeling
Spin me round again
and rub my eyes
this can't be happening
when busy streets a mess with people
would stop to hold their heads heavy
Hide and seek
Trains and sewing machines
All those years
They were here first
oily marks appear on walls
where pleasure moments hung before
the takeover
the sweeping insensitivity
of this
still life
Hide and seek
trains and sewing machines
Blood and tears
They were here first
mm what d'ya say?
that you only meant well, well of course you did
this it's all for the best, of course it is
that it's just what we need, you decided this?
what did you say?
Ransom notes keep falling out your mouth
Mid sweet talk newspaper word cut outs
Speak no feeling no I don't believe you
you don't care a bit

2006-07-29T12:53:00.000-05:00

The Beatles in London Walking Tour

We took a walking tour in London that featured spots in London where the Beatles had once been. We met at Marylebone Station Tube stop. The station is where the opening credits of the Beatles' movie, "Hard Days Night" was filmed, with the Fab Four being chased all about the station(well, Paul was just sitting on a bench reading a newspaper in the station disguised with a mustache and goatee). In that neighborhood and the St. John Woods neighborhood, one tube stop away, we saw some early apartments of the Beatles, their short lived Apple store and of course the famous Abbey Road crosswalk and recording studios(St. John Woods stop). The story goes that the Beatles next album was going to be titled, "Everest", which was the Beatles' favorite cigarettes. The art director for the recording company wanted them to fly to Mount Everest to shoot the cover photo. John Lennon said No, he didn't want to fly a long distance to some cold mountain to take one shot for the cover, so he took the photographers outside the studios to the Abbey Road crosswalk, shot the photo and changed the name of the album to "Abbey Road".

2006-07-29T12:43:00.000-05:00

This is a photo my 13 year old took on our evening cruise down the Seine in early June. We were freezing cold that evening. It was cool and the boat's speed seemed to drop the temperature even more. My photos that evening were ca ca. Glad Holden got this one.

2006-05-04T06:54:00.000-05:00

At the Movies

I didn't see this film on the big screen, I rented the DVD. (I wonder if it's proper to still call it a film if you watch the DVD version?) Anyway, I watched two movies a couple of weeks ago and they both left an impression with me, but I can't seem to forget especially one of them. The movie was rated R for language and was titled, Grizzly Man,...no, it was not about the mascot of the Memphis NBA franchise, but is a documentary about a man who spent 13 summers living amony grizzly bears in Alaska,....unarmed. He documented his time there and his experiences with his handheld video cam. There was only a couple of places where he used foul language, but in one segment he was angry at the EPA and was dropping the "F- bomb" everywhere. My son got up and walked out. The guy eventually was killed by the grizzlies, or just one. They found his arm, with his watch still on it,....still ticking. John Cameron Swazzie would have a field day with that one were he alive and were he wearing a Timex. I didn't lose interest in the movie. Maybe because I knew he might be getting killed at any moment. There were no gorey, or grizzly(excuse the pun)scenes,...no footage of his death, though I think it was at least partially captured,...they discussed his final words on the recording. In the end, I thought the guy was a nut. But it is a dvd worth watching,...some even worth watching with your kids,...but limited. Choose some segments and preface them with "This guy is a lunatic,....don't EVER believe you can live with a wild animal without him chewing your arm off!"

2006-05-03T11:38:00.000-05:00

I just thought this would be an appropriate commentary on the reality of gas prices for the most of us. But, do you know one reason why DC politicians don't care how much gas prices effect our daily lives? Because they don't have to pay for their gas to and from DC,....WE(the taxpayers)pay for it! We pay for a car service to pick them up and drop them off and take them back home. They don't feel the pinch like the common man. This is just another way they separate themselves from the realities within our country, which, then is reflected in the policies they pass to govern us. It's time that part of their gravy train was cut off!

2006-05-02T11:32:00.000-05:00

Hey,....I tried this Texas vodka called Tito's recently and it is soooo smooooth. This guy has an interesting story too. So much so that the Discovery Channel did a piece on him. You may view it at: www.titos-vodka.com .

2006-05-01T20:55:00.000-05:00

We are heading to England, Scotland and France for a three week trip this summer. Kind of excited about England and Scotland, but really have some anxiety about France. Heard too many bad comments about Parisians, whom we will be dealing with since we are only going to Paris. We will only be there for two nights and three days, so we should be able to handle it. Just fear the language barrier. I know we won't be the first or the last people to visit who do not speak French. I bought a French phrase book/dictionary, as if I could really decipher what someone speaking French in a normal pace would be saying. I can see me flipping through the tiny pages maniacally trying to catch a word or two and then pretending to understand them to save face. Saying "thank you" in really good French since I will have practiced that phrase over and over, and then starting the process all over again with the next kind face we think we see. This will be a good test of our intuition and our abilities to accurately read personalities by faces or very surface signs of human nature. I guess we will just have to rely on the mercy of the French we encounter and pray for a good experience. I can say,....it WILL be an experience for us,...whether good or bad.

2006-04-28T09:22:00.000-05:00

Cooking with Rachel Ray

I have become a big Rachel Ray fan. She's on the food network and her claim to fame is 30 minute meals. I like her cooking style cause it's not pretentious, yet not ultra common either. It's for the novice chef,....definitely my catagory. I have three of her cookbooks. The earlier ones have more recipes,....the newer ones have photos of her and the dishes she cooks. I have found that I like having a photo of what the meal will look like,...it draws me in to want to cook. Speaking of dishes,.....this photo is from a pin-up layout that FHM magazine did of R.R. Very well done, yet not overdone, and quite saucy!

2006-04-27T12:33:00.000-05:00

Bought a CD at Pier 1 called "Rainy Day",...a compilation of a variety of genres of slow music fit for a rainy day(of course). The first song on the disc was from Blue Merle, a band based in Nashville. Initially, I didn't care for the song, "Burning in the Sun",...but I was just interested in getting to a couple of chillout tunes I had been looking for,...Telepopmusick playing the song "Breathe" and Nightmares on Wax doing "Les Nuits"(both really good and highly recommended by me to lower your blood pressure at least 5 points). After I listened to "Burning" a few times, I started thinking about who the vocalist reminded me of,...it was the vocalist for Counting Crows, then I thought that he had a Coldplay sound. The band is hard to label with a particular muscial genre. They have a fiddle and a mandolin in the background, behind a good rock electric guitar,...when they give the fiddle and mandolin their spotlight on the stage, one might easily think that this is a pseudo bluegrass band, like Bela Fleck and the Flecktones, or Bruce Hornsby who sang "That's just the way it is",...but then when they feature the guitarist or the drummer,...it seems the antithesis of bluegrass. Anyway,...it's worth a listen, go to www.bluemerle.com and you can freely download a concert they gave in Birmingham, AL and burn it to CD. Worth a listen.

2006-04-22T09:15:00.000-05:00

I'M BACK, AND HAVE MUSIC!

well,...it's been a while since i blogged. i think i just got burned out. needed a break, sabbatical. many times i thought of something interesting to write, but just couldn't get the energy. i think i was making it my job,....i just need to enjoy this as an outlet to express myself,...nothing else.

the last post was about my quandry between satellite or i pod. i chose satellite. i really have enjoyed it too! since i signed on with xm, they have added several genres to their line up. one was chill out,...which seems to be my default music choice now. can't really hear it on commercial,...only on yahoo launch radio or satellite(i can listen to xm satellite online also). my receiver is the delphi "my fi" that has a memory so you can record up to 5 hours of music. i use this during work outs and my work outs NEVER come close to running past 5 hours,.....4:30, but not 5. i have an antenna for my car and my home. i pick up the signal on an unused radio channel at home. i use the little cassette adapter to play it thru my vehicle speakers. signal is strong, tho sometimes the signal is cut off by wide overpasses,...but it is only momentary. overall,....it has been a nice experience. i have found it to be a worthy investment. i have not fully lewis and clarked all the stations yet,...so there's still intrigue about what all this little unit has to offer.

i will be writing more,....but i have another job that pays the bills. a blog nerd i am not, nor do i think i will be. life's too short. so many satellite channels to hear,....so little time.

2006-01-24T16:20:00.000-06:00

Satellite Radio Quandry

Well, just when I thought I was on the cutting edge with an MP3 player,...satellite radio comes along. Now I am wondering whether to trade up to an Ipod or to go with a MYFI satellite receiver or the like of small hand held units that can go into your home or your car as well. It will record 5 hours of music so you can use it like an Ipod when exercising or running(otherwise you would be SOL since it needs some type of antenna facing south or you won't get anything under a roof, or so I hear). Not sure. A few months ago, Consumer Reports said that the technology would get better and they advised to wait a little longer since the hand held units pick up was spotty at times and bad at other times. Please advise some more!

2006-01-22T21:41:00.000-06:00

IPOD-A-GO-GO

I needed some diversion for my run the other day. I saw Holden's i-pod laying there on the table, so I took it to the gym. I knew music would help time go by more quickly as I was placing myself on the implement of torture known as the treadmill. I was not ready for what I was about to hear or that it would give a whole new meaning to my idea of an implement of torture. There were no bad lyrics, and even some good ones,...some nice rythmns and beats and tunes and harmonies and bass lines,...etc. etc.,...but then there was screaming. Not the Beatles varitey of screaming in "Shake it up Baby" or even the Elvis Costello style of screaming, like in the beginning of "Man Out of Time" or even The Blind Boys of Alabama and their spiritual screaming in their early recordings from the 40's,....but this was blood curdling screaming of lyrics that had been so sweetly sung only a couple of measures previous. These formerly sane musicians had seemed to have lost the battle with their psycho evil sides and were now yelling at the tops of their lungs,....at me! It was a personal affront, I thought. I flashed back to junior high and bringing home a poor grade in algebra for my parents to sign and send back. But my parents didn't seem quite as furious as these musicians,...and my parents had every right to be that angry, but I don't even know this band,...what right do that have to be speaking to me in these tones? I really don't think my son has any right to claim that I ever yell at him,...the levels of volume and aggitation in my voice are no match for these young abusive boy musicians. Maybe this is one reason why kids have such attitudes and why it takes so much to break through their tough exoskeletons and really get to them. I think next time I am wanting to express myself to my son, I will pick up one of his guitars and grind and scream away,...and who knows? He may listen then.

P.S. Beware of Hawthorne Heights and Silverstein, two of my son's favorite screaming "teen angst" bands. If you see their LP drop on the turntable YOU run screaming from the room before they scream first!(sorry I'm listening to 70's music and went a little too retro, but you know what I mean,...before their file downloads get outa there!)

2006-01-10T21:34:00.000-06:00

The Razor's Edge

Well, I am sporting a new fancy phone,...well, it's not new, it's used. It's in good shape, I know the previous owner,...it was my son. He had a much nicer phone than his parents, but he couldn't keep up with it. A few days ago there was a knock on the door and our house guest answered and a lady asked if anyone had lost a cell phone in our house. He said no, then thought to ask what kind of phone it was and asked to see it. The lady said it was a Motorola Razor(I know, I know, what kind of fool buys a Razor for his 13 year old,....an only child's parent, that's who), and Michael said, that's Holden's. She had found it sitting on the curb, where it had been for at least two days, possibly three. Well, I think I was more upset about it than Holden,...isn't that typical of kids today? But I guarantee, when I was a kid if it had been possible for me to lose something as valuable and cool as a cellphone, not to mention top of the line cellphone, I would have walked the streets every night all night long until I knew where it was. I would have worried myself into a record as the youngest person to have an MI. And I would have tried to cut a deal with my Mom and Dad to spare my life, if the MI didn't kill me. My son's reaction,...."Well, it only costs $30." I almost blacked out there was so much fury running thru my brain. I collected myslef and calmly explained, at the top of my lungs, how his phone on the black market in China probably costs more than $30. So, I had to do something. I had told him before that if he couldn't keep up with the phone that he would lose it either out right lose it himself somewhere or I would take it away. Well, we thought he had lost it for good, but when it turned up, I took it over, until he can prove that he can keep up with my bottom of the line, free with the plan phone. He was pretty decent about it. He told me where it was and proceeded to tell me that I shouldn't be too disappointed because the picture qualities on the phone were not that good, nor did it get good reception, nor was the sound quality very good. I told him that he should be happy because it sounded as if this wasn't a punishment nor teaching moment at all,...since he thinks he still has the superior phone(mine) because the razor was less than the cutting edge cellphone in his mind.

2006-01-04T15:57:00.000-06:00

The Huron Carol

This is a new favorite Christmas Carol. I have heard it for years on a couple of Christmas CD's but have never paid attention to the lyrics. The composer placed the story of the birth of Jesus into their own locale, amongst the native French Canadians, Algonquin and Huron Indians(eh, you Hoser!). There's a great movie about missionaries to the Algonquin Indians of Canada, called The Black Robes. Algonquins were pretty fierce, according to that French Canadian film. Anyway, the tune is in minor key,...so it's not happy and cheerful sounding, which throws some folks off, but I think it really fits the lyrics and the area in which it was written. My attention was called to this song as an excellent choir at the Trinity Episcopal Cathedral in downtown Birmingham sang it at the Christmas Eve service my brother and I attended this year. As we left on that misty evening, the bells were pealing and I couldn't help but think that the bells were ringing in celebration and proclamation of the birth of our Savior, as the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.

Definition:Gitchi Manitou (or Gichi-Manidoo), in traditional Algonquian First Nations culture, is the Great Spirit, the Creator of all things and the Giver of Life.

The "Huron Carol" (or "'Twas in the Moon of Wintertime") is a Christmas hymn, written in 1643 by Jean de Brébeuf, a Christian missionary at Sainte-Marie among the Hurons. Brébeuf wrote the lyrics in the native language of the Huron people; the song's original Huron title is "Jesous Ahatonhia". The song's melody is a traditional French folk song, "Une Jeune Pucelle" ("A Young Maid").
The English version of the hymn, in place of the more traditional Nativity story, uses imagery familiar to North American aboriginal cultures of the time of composition: Jesus is born in a "lodge of broken bark", and wrapped in a "robe of rabbit skin". He is surrounded by hunters instead of shepherds, and the Magi bring him "fox and beaver pelts" instead of the more familiar gold, frankincense, and myrrh. The hymn also uses a traditional Huron name, Gitchi Manitou, for God. The original lyrics are now sometimes modified to use imagery more familiar to Christians who are not part of the Huron culture.
Brébeuf was martyred in 1649. He is one of the eight Canadian Martyrs.
English lyrics were written by Jesse Edgar Middleton in 1926. The song remains a common Christmas hymn in Canadian churches of many Christian denominations. Bruce Cockburn has also recorded a rendition of the song.

'Twas in the moon of wintertime when all the birds had fled
That mighty Gitchi Manitou sent angel choirs instead;
Before their light the stars grew dim and wondering hunters heard the hymn,
Jesus your King is born, Jesus is born, in excelsis gloria.

Within a lodge of broken bark the tender babe was found;
A ragged robe of rabbit skin enwrapped his beauty round
But as the hunter braves drew nigh the angel song rang loud and high
Jesus your King is born, Jesus is born, in excelsis gloria.

The earliest moon of wintertime is not so round and fair
As was the ring of glory on the helpless infant there.
The chiefs from far before him knelt with gifts of fox and beaver pelt.
Jesus your King is born, Jesus is born, in excelsis gloria.

O children of the forest free, O seed of Manitou
The holy Child of earth and heaven is born today for you.
Come kneel before the radiant boy who brings you beauty peace and joy.
Jesus your King is born, Jesus is born, in excelsis gloria.

Link to Lyrics in the native language and an MP3 of native Canadians singing the song in their language. This is much more dissonant and stark than the version I heard Christmas Eve, but I imagine it is as close to the original composition as anything:

http://firstnationhelp.com/huron.html

2006-01-02T19:51:00.000-06:00

Running Rural

I run. I try to run regularly. I'm only successful some of the time. I'm not a good runner. I have a huge mental block about just running. I can run without mental difficulties when there are other things to occupy my mind,....like some other guys kicking a football or dribbling a basketball or smackin a softball,...or a big junkyard dog chasing me,...but ONLY running is a big hurdle for me to get over. Music helps, or maybe thinking about political or religious issues which are passionate to me. I run best on the treadmill,...but there ain't no treadmills in rural Alabama,...none that I can use anyway. Over Christmas break I develop bad eating habits,...eating everything in sight. I have tried to counter that bad habit with a good habit,...running. Since I have no access to a treadmill,...I must take to the countryside of rural NE Alabama. My In-Laws live on a mountain, so in the winter the wind can cut you in half,...it wasn't windy,..but was pretty cold. I didn't really push myself,...maybe I should have, but I was just glad I was out there. Early morning Tuesday, December 27, there was a heavy frost. While stretching I heard Caroline Chickadees, Crows, Wrens, Cardinals, Woodpeckers, all urging me onward to my goal(they were probably just bitchin about how cold it was, like me). In the distance I heard the babbling of the creek and it grew more faint as I started my rural run. I had mapped out my route last year(I was an irregular runner then also). My brother, Richard, is a regular runner. He lives in NYC, and smells all the city smells,....bus diesel fumes, street vendors hot dogs, subways, human urine . There are country smells also. The cold stifled some of the smells,...but some are too strong to be put down by the cold. First I saw the chicken houses, then I heard them,...a cacauphony of farm noise(or maybe more like a ca"cackle"phony or ca"crow"phony),...but the smell,....whoa! The lady down the road from my in-laws raises fryers and layers for "Koch Farms". That was about 50 yards into my run. In the next quarter mile I was into a new dung smell,...cow. Not as disturbing as chicken,...but it ranks,...not quite as bad as pig, which is in the top 5,....and which I thankfully didn't run into on this route. There were other more pleasant odors,...pine,...smoke from wood burning fireplaces,...fresh air. I ran,...but I walked some too. I'm not a good runner,...but I figure I'm good enough for me. I won't be running a marathon, but maybe what little bad running I do will give me a marathon heart beat,...or the energizer heart beat that keeps going and going and going.

2005-12-24T11:29:00.000-06:00

Morning Mississippi

This is the morning haze and frost of Fulton, MS, small town about 30 miles east of Tupelo near the Alabama state line. Frost almost looks like snow.

2005-12-24T11:15:00.000-06:00

It's a Dog's Life

This is my aunt's dog, Sheba. Sheba is the happiest dog yet she seems to have not that much to be happy about. It's about 34 degrees in this photo and probably the eve prior it got down to the upper 20's. She's an outside dog and never is permited inside(country dogs are NOT allowed inside for any reason, some would think it like letting your cows in the house,...not my way of thinking, but it exists). Yet look how blurry her tail is. That's because it's wagging,...and she does her version of smiling too,....alot. More than I do and I know I have a much better lifestyle. Maybe I could learn a valuable lesson from Sheba and wag my tail and smile more often, even when I think I've got a dog's life. Merry Christmas Sheba!

2005-12-20T23:38:00.000-06:00

Christmas Memories Already

This was a family photo from our Christmas in Texas prior to hittin' the road for Alabama Monday, 12/19. We were blessed to have Eleanor and Michael Walker spend some holiday moments with us. The other two are Amy and Holden. You can use your imagination to move me from behind the camera to the composition, if you wish(maybe over Michael's right shoulder would provide some balance for the photo). Merry Christmas! Attend a church on Christmas Sunday that isn't closed in honor of Jesus's birth!(my little pet peeve that I will not go in to).

2005-12-20T00:49:00.000-06:00

Merry Christmas to you and yours! This is one of my favorite songs of the season. We have it on cd and prior to cd's we had it on tape, both renditions from the King's College Cambridge Choir,...in England. Wouldn't be Christmas without it!

The Infant King
Words: Sabine Baring-Gould
Music: Basque Carol

1. Sing lullaby!Lullaby baby, now reclining,Sing lullaby!Hush, do not wake the Infant King.Angels are watching, stars are shiningOver the place where he is lying.Sing lullaby!
2. Sing lullaby!Lullaby baby, now a-sleeping,Sing lullaby!Hush, do not wake the Infant King.Soon will come sorrow with the morning,Soon will come bitter grief and weeping:Sing lullaby!
3. Sing lullaby!Lullaby baby, now a-dozing,Sing lullaby!Hush, do not wake the Infant King.Soon comes the cross, the nails, the piercing,Then in the grave at last reposing:Sing lullaby!
4. Sing lullaby!Lullaby! is the babe a-waking?Sing lullaby!Hush, do not stir the Infant King.Dreaming of Easter, gladsome morning,Conquering Death, its bondage breaking:Sing lullaby!

2005-12-09T22:22:00.000-06:00

New Englander

Well, I have been in New England now since Tuesday(Boston and New York). Nice place to visit(in Boston on business, in NYC visiting my brother). These are much more beautiful than the state within which I now reside. Incredible amounts of significant history,...not that Texas history is insignificant,...it's just that you can't compare the founding fathers to the Alamo crew,...and not that that was a less important or somewhat of a second class act of patriotism,...it's just that you couldn't have the second without the presidence set by the first. I had clam chowder and lobster and lobster bisque and last, but certainly not least, Boston creme pie. The first two were good, the third was too salty, and the fourth was worth the trip to Boston independent of anything else. Took the train from Boston to NYC, to visit my brother. Tons of snow this am(Friday),...but it melted off. Saw Matt, Katie and Al as I stood in the huge flakes of snow getting drenched as it kept collecting on the ledges of my coat as it draped on my body. I would occasionally dust it off,...but to no avail. It was coming down that hard. I was so soaked, I had to take the NBC studio tour and saw the SNL set and the Conan O' Brian Show set(really smaller than they appear, amazing). NYC is fun, but I will definitely have to go back to Boston. So much history, so little time. I was only able to take a couple of steps on the Freedom Trail. Still have a day and a portion(Sunday) left here. Drank a martini(or two) in the Algonquin Hotel(photo of lobby bar above) in Manhattan, where several famous patrons drank them, including author, Dorothy Parker, whose quote graces their cocktail napkins, "I love a martini - but two at the most, Three I'm under the table; Four, I'm under the host." Hope she had someone to pay for those four martini's. I think the $14 included a surcharge for atmosphere. You can't feel that atmosphere like you can feel a martini.

2005-11-28T08:30:00.000-06:00

Racoon in the Rafters,...
Bats in the Belfry, Cats in the Cradle, Man in the Moon

Our house is a funky 1959 home with exposed beams throughout the structure. This morning at 5:50 AM as I was heading for the gym, I walked out to get the paper and my motion sensor lights came on(normal). I happened to glance back at my car,...and noticed a furry tail in the rafters above the storage area, above my car. It was black and grey striped. I moved in for a closer look. It was a racoon! He was just lounging on the beam, probably just settling in for a long winters nap(it's chilly this morning). He seemed to have the same expression, staring into the bright flood lights, that my son has when I first turn the lights on in his room on a school day morning. But he must have known the light cycle, that they would go off in 10 minutes,...cause he wasn't moving. He didn't seem afraid of me,...and for good reason. Actually for two good reasons,....1. sharp teeth and 2. sharp claws that racoons are not afraid to use, especially if they are awakened from a sound sleep by a bright light. The photo is dim due to inadequate light(which is why he chose that spot for sleeping in the day,...they are nocturnal you know). But this morning he was "lit up" with my two 150 watt flood lights, which well illuminated the subject. He looked friendly, cute and cuddly,...but I know better. I even spoke to him(first I checked to see if I had any early rising neighbors to judge me looney) . I just spoke two words,...."kill rats!",...seems we have had a dry summer and the rat population has increased("we haven't had rain in months!", cried Minnie, then with passion in her eyes she grabbed Micky by the lapels and lustily whispered, "take me now you big rat, you!"). Then I went to the gym, after my work out I picked up the kids at 7:15 to take to school. I relayed the story to them and they wanted to stop and see if he/she/it was still there(our house is on the way),..and it was still snoozing, facing away from the light. One carpooler is a 5th grade boy and a big hunter, said he could exterminate it for me. I said no thanks,...the racoon may be exterminating for me("kill rats!"). He was still out there when I returned from the school run at 8. I don't think he's moving until evening(they are nocturnal, you know). Sleep well little racoon and appreciate my peaceful and gentle hand, for surely my ancestors would have knocked you in the head with a shovel and thrown you in the oven with some taters.

2005-11-25T06:16:00.000-06:00

Thanksgiving for One

Well,...the big experiment is over,...and I have survived being alone at Thanksgiving. Though I had multiple invitations for Thanksgiving Dinner(wouldn't want anyone to think I smell bad or don't have any friends,...I smell good and have plenty of friends, it was "dealer's choice"). I cooked breakfast and watched a little pre-parade,...then turned to Turner Classic Movies for the rest of the day. Kind of just kept that on all day. Didn't switch to football or even channel surf prior to deciding on TCM. Couldn't really tell you the movies I watched,...it was almost like background music. I kind of cleaned up the house and vacumed and washed some clothes(they're still in the dryer). I actually walked out of my house only three times: to get the newspaper, to put something in my car and to fire up the grill for hot dogs(no turkey for me yesterday, but that's okay). Thought about going to a movie, but decided no. Thought about getting some cat litter and then I decided that I would do that on my way back from work on Friday. I didn't even read the newspaper I brought in,...nor did I look at the sale flyers for the day after Thanksgiving sales. I didn't do much of anything. I baked an apple pie,...from scratch,...I even made the crust! It was okay,...nothing to write home about. I spent most of the afternoon working on the crust mostly but the pie was out of the oven by 3:45. I am glad I did it,...but the results didn't warrant the effort to do it again. Making crust from scratch is a dying art,...kind of like drinking buttermilk. That desire for a cold glass of buttermilk was handed down to my mother, but stopped on a dime right there. The stuff hasn't touched my lips in it's raw state. Waffles or biscuits couldn't be better with buttermilk,...but that's the only way I will take it. If I could have worked it into my apple pie recipe,...that would have been okay,...but then maybe not, cause that would have meant that I would have had to go further than 10 steps from my door on Thanksgiving,...and wasn't gonna happen. Thanksgiving alone. I didn't overeat,...I didn't have to listen to listen to stories I didn't want to hear, I didn't have to do anything, except what I wanted. Thanksgiving for one,...ain't so bad.

2005-11-17T12:18:00.000-06:00

King of the Smoothies

I have been self drubbed with this title. For years our poor blender has sat in a corner, unrecognized for its abilities and therefore, underused, neglected. At one point, we needed the counter space and decided to place it in a closet or in a cabinet. Well, that's all changed. I have put it throught its paces for the past three months. I decided my fruit intake could be better, and found the blender to be an essential part of the equation to assist me in accomplishing my new, healthy and attainable goal. This morning I saw my banana purchase was a little overkill and there were some getting ripe beyond use,...so instead of making banana pudding or banana bread, I chose an easier much more healthy two-banana smoothie. I usually have a medley of both fresh and frozen fruit(the frozen fruit chills and thickens)but you can vary your blend to accomodate rapidly ripening fruit. I have found that I can drink 4 fruit servings in a smoothie in the morning. I think an ideal intake is 5 servings of fruits or vegetables in a day.

I have contemplated diversifying,...maybe in the evenings adding an adult beverage of choice. I think that would make me the daquari king. Next I may try tomatoes or carrots. Then it's a natural progression to meats and other vegetables. That reminds me of some documentary I saw about Native Americans and how the Navajo women would chew food for their babies, kind of like certain birds regurgitating for their little ones.

I might look at this as preparation for old age. I heard when you get to the nursing home or without your teeth(or both), it all goes in a blender. You will drink your breakfast, lunch and dinner through a straw. Better get a better blender or a bigger straw.

2005-11-17T12:00:00.000-06:00

Pixelized Poetry

I was scanning Holden's "Smaug"poem from The Hobbit, trying to make it available for this blog, without typing it(I'm lazy). However, this is the product that I pulled from my scanner, but it is not what was on the glass. These were words, black on white paper as normal. Strange,...this bit of a technical difficulty reminds me of the famous cubist painting of "Nude Descending a Staircase". Oh!, I see her now. There she is in the upper right corner. See her? Va va va voom! Huba, huba! Woooooooeeeeee! Amazing detail of that ribbon draped ever so delicately across her bosom.

2005-11-17T08:44:00.000-06:00

Politicians Royale

By accusing their critics of playing politics,...our President and Vice President have played politics. By saying that those who do not agree with the war in Iraq and question the reasoning behind it should NOT SPEAK, they have made the most unamerican statement. Our country was founded on several basic freedoms, one of which was freedom to be critical of government officials without having our heads lopped off physically or rhetorically. They would rather those who disagree with their lack of strategy to exit Iraq keep their mouths shut. They say some of the critics were the ones who voted to go,....well, isn't there a time to regroup and rethink,....or do we just continue to headlong into a war where real American kids are really dying with no end in sight. It's as though we have given Bush and Cheney and the Iraqi people a blank check on our children's lives and they will fill in the number later. The time has come to look at our strategy and reassess. Bush claimed victory in Iraq long ago,...obviously too early,....yet we are still there. And we are supposed to just let that happen without some accountability? Now's the time to be accountable for the reason we got into the war and the intelligence utilized to support the action and for a sooner-to-be-implemented-than-later exit strategy and for the reason you didn't plan that before jumping into Iraq with both feet. If Bush claims his critics language against the war to be reprehensible, then his critics can call his language to get us into Iraq reprehensible as well. I guarantee his reprehensible language has cost us more lives that the reprehensible language of his detractors. Please don't misunderstand. I DO support our troops, I just don't support the guy who put them there or why he put them there(there are plenty of tyrants even with nuclear capabilities, yet we aren't rushing into war with them). I support our troops so much that I want them to respected and honored for fighting for MY freedom, not Iraq's( I will never believe that Iraq's freedom is MY freedom anymore than I will believe that their economy is our economy). I support our troops so much that I want them to live and come back to their families alive and whole and well. We must believe that our government leaders(Republicans and Democrats alike) are fallable humans who can and do make poor decisions,...otherwise we are only deceiving ourselves into a false sense of security. We the people have every right to voice our concerns and to hold ANY public servant accountable,...for every word spoken and for every action taken.

2005-11-16T21:09:00.000-06:00

Holden's Psycho-delic

2005-11-16T20:51:00.000-06:00

Just in Time!

Well,...it seems that winter has arrived before fall here in Texas. Oh,...I'm sure we have a couple of 80 degree days still out there somewhere. It was freezing in some areas last night, but who knows,....tomorrow we could be at the swimming pool. I brought in my three plants that I care about,...one was a gift for my birthday, the other two were on sale at Home Depot for $5. My basil I left on the porch and just covered them with a garbage bag. It seems to be on its last leg.

We had a blustery day Tuesday when this cold front blew in. At 6AM my car thermometer said 75 and at 715 AM, it had dropped to 55. The wind was strong, it seemed colder. I noticed my pine and my pecan trees had some loose limbs that had been dislodged by the wind and fell to the ground after being suspended from other limbs all summer long.

We had very little rain this summer. I gave up on my grass in the past couple months and stopped watering. My neighbor's yard with the auto sprinklers is lush and green,....an oasis compared to my Mojave wanna-be yard. I am sure my grass prays for a breeze to blow some of the mist from the auto sprinklers its way. I still have a strong stand of St. Augustine in the front, which is what I care about. I can now turn my attention toward next year and buy a big bag of Scott's Bonus S, the fertilizer made especially for St. Augustine. Maybe this year I will be self disciplined and improve my yard attitude and apply it twice, as the bag recommends.

The sans rain situation was so bad this summer that we have one less tree in the front. One of the ornamental large leafed evergreens croaked and I cut it down. It seemed like a small tree, until I started cutting it down. I always wondered why people hired men to take out trees in their yard, much bigger than the little one I removed. Now I know why. Well, maybe it will feel like Thanksgiving next week instead of Major League Baseball's Opening Day(though one year it was quite brisk on Opening Day). Here's hoping cool weather is here to stay for a while. (photo is from winter two years ago)

2005-11-11T05:56:00.000-06:00

Smaug

Holden had to write a poem based on The Hobbit. He was able to illustrate a scene for extra credit and this was his illustration. He got a 110. I personally think this is worth more than 10 extra points, but I'm his Dad and who am I to question the grading system? I particularly like his stylized fire. I'm not sure where he gleaned that, but I think it's cool. I give him 200!

2005-11-10T01:12:00.000-06:00

Pleasing my Dad

You never get so old that you don't want to please your dad. I still do and I'm 44 years old and at least 10 hours away. Maybe it's not so much pleasing him, but letting him know that you learned something from him and that you can do some of the same stuff he did while you were growing up,.....fixing stuff. It's sad, but if I need help on a household project I will call him and get his opinion. And if I am successful at one of those projects,...he's the first guy I call. To sort of brag. Like once our clothes dryer would spin but only blow cool air. I think I called him to diagnose the situation, which he said was the heater coil,...and sure enough, when I opened it up I saw the obvious break in the coil. I quickly looked up the nearest Sears parts store and called them and ran down and picked up a new coil and installed it. I think it was like $36.00. When I turned the dryer on and felt the wave of heat I was shocked. It had seemed so easy. I usually run into at least three snags in my pursuit of fixdom! So I celebrated like I had become a father again! And guess what I did next,....yep, made a call to Birmingham, AL to not only brag to Dad that I fixed the dryer in what seemed like record time, but to also discuss the considerable savings I had just made by completing the task myself and not hiring someone to fix it for me. The timeliness was also discussed, cause I guarantee I would not have been able to get someone out to the house before a couple of days. Yeah, Dad's the guy I want to impress, however, just looking at his record of fix-it victories, I don't know if he really is impressed or could be. My record is a little league record when compared to his major league record. But he still expresses his big league pride in me at 44,....just like he did years ago in little league,...over my trivial success,...but maybe just my call is his Big League success. Love you Dad.

2005-11-09T08:00:00.000-06:00

Three legged Cat

Three nights ago we were filling my wife's van up with gas,....$2.19 per gallon. I was pumping gas when my wife comes around the corner with tears in her eyes asking if I had seen the poor three legged cat that was looking for food. She pointed me in the direction of a ditch into which the cat had darted. I went over caught a glimpse and it shot like a rocket across the ditch to a business adjacent to the gas station. I started down the steep slope to cross over the ditch to where ole tripod was,....and he dashed even further away toward a car dealer that was next to the business, that was next to the gas station. I still had compassion on the poor creature, thinking of my two cats, fat and sassy, probably picking their teeth in a lounge chair in front of the TV,...so I decided to break into their new bag of food I had just purchased and share the wealth with ole prong. As much as I could make of him/her(?)was it was a calico missing its right hind leg below the thigh. It didn't slow him down much. I grabbed two large handfuls of "IAMS for indoor cats"(hope it's not poison to an outdoor cat)out of the new 10 lb bag and started down the steep slope to place the food on a concrete sidewalk in front of the business next door to the station. It was steep, as I mentioned, but I made it across without much trouble,....mostly applying the breaks as I went down, but letting off enough to have enough speed to coast up the other side of the ditch to the sidewalk. A little awkward, but no problems, no dry cat food losses on my journey. I placed the food in a neat pile on the corner and looked toward the used car dealer, where I had last seen ole stump, but saw no sign of her/him. I looked at the pile of food and thought it didn't look like much. I wanted to get more, but needed to check on my gas pump,...it had probably kicked off because it was full. So I made it down the other side of the ditch, headed back, toward the steeper side, but I didn't have enough speed, so halfway up the steep side of the ditch, I stalled and began to notice that it was a little slick and muddy and I didn't want to put my hands down(though they had just been holding cat food). I started to lose my balance, but thought I could recover without putting my hands down. I felt my face flushed red with the realization that I could possibly be falling when my foot slipped out of the clogs I was wearing and began turning over, further throwing off my balance. There was a black guy sitting by the pay phone at the edge of the gas station lot in a beat up pinto watching the whole charade,...and I'm praying that it's not Alan Funt in disguise with his video camera. It was like everything was in slow motion, like in the action movies like The Matrix when the director wants us to see every blow of the fight. My arms were flailing trying to assist me in regaining my balance to make it the rest of the way up the steep side of the ditch without putting my hands down in the semi mud(in hind sight, I don't really know why keeping sanitary hands was such an uncompromisable position). Well, it seemed like 5 minutes, but was probably more like a split second, but I finally gained some footing and made a couple of steps forward and one more back and then the rest of the way up the steep slope and without getting my hands muddy. I had escaped a fall and injury,.....or so I thought. The next day, my back had a slight twinge of pain,...two days later it was more severe, three days later it was difficult to get out of bed without shouting expletives,....but I did(without shouting expletives). So, I took three ibuprofen(a miracle drug in my opinion) and the pain subsided greatly. I love Advil! So much so that I'm searching for an Advil t-shirt or baseball cap, bumper sticker, to proudly sport as this drugs biggest fan. I hope ole Hop-a-long enjoyed his lite snack,...I will probably look him up the next time I buy gas there, but I will definitley stay on this side of the ditch.

2005-11-08T20:50:00.000-06:00

The Lone Turkey

Wife and son will be flying to Bama for Thanksgiving, but I will be staying here. I am saving my vacation for our trip to England this summer,...plus they are coming back on Friday, so I would only be there three days, not worth the large sum to fly for that short time,...and it seems like I have been driving since I got my car, a year ago Thanksgiving(well two days post), so I don't want to drive. I think I will just hang out with the cats,...in the air conditioning comfort of my home in 80 degree Texas Thanksgiving weather. Not do a thing. Cook a little turkey,...get a little can of cranberry sauce,...watch football if I want or a classic movie or a bawdy comedy or just lay on the couch and doze without someone reading off our schedule for the day. Last year we had Thanksgiving at home, just the three of us,...Ellie(our British boarder who has been with us three years,...she was family after the first month) was with her fiancee's family and will be again this year. The only thing I can't do is throw the football by myself. If you think you should invite a poor lonely guy for Thanksgiving, go ahead, only don't be surprized if he says, thank you , but I have plans. And don't be surprized if he turns around and invites you over later to throw the football.(Photo of my lovely smoked turkey from last Thanksgiving)

2005-11-06T21:20:00.000-06:00

Fall has fell

2005-11-04T11:12:00.000-06:00

Tearing Down a Wall

It's been my week to drive the carpool. I have two 7th graders and a 5th grader(one 7th grader is a girl,...just so you get the complete picture). Well, my son, the other 7th grader, sits in the front seat beside me. I think his main job is to select music on the multi-disc CD changer that I don't want to hear. He started to put in Nirvana this morning at 7 AM and tho I don't dislike the band,...it's got to be against some city ordinance to play music that even hints of a grinding guitar before 10 AM. Well, maybe that's a little paraphrased from the ordinance,.....okay, paraphrased a lot,.....okay, okay,...I just made it up! For Nirvana's sake as well as mine(it is a disrespectful to play Nirvana as a low volume level, it's like spitting on Kurt Cobain's grave). I relax the made-up rule when my son happens to choose something from my CD wallet. He has recently chosen Pink Floyd's THE WALL from my book. I can easily turn my head,...or a deaf ear, as it were, to the grinding guitar solos(which should not be compared to Nirvana, I know) from Pink Floyd's Comfortably Numb(not the most grinding) since I remain in a college flashback throughout our journey to school while it plays. This morning the 5th grader began to comment about and actually sing along with "Crazy,...toys in the attic, he is crazy,...". He said it was kind of scary sounding. I could not disagree with him, since I bought it a year ago around this time and actually played it at Halloween as scary background/mood setting music. I then thought,...I wonder if he talks to his dad about what we listen to on the way to school? I wonder if he may someday hear a muzak version in an elevator and say,...."Hey, that's 'Brick in the Wall'!". So maybe my week to drive is a version of a music appreciation lesson. Maybe by listening to The Wall, I am helping tear down a wall revealing music history these kids may have otherwise never been exposed to? or maybe it's just good music that all generations gravitate toward, no matter their date of birth? (the photo is Pink Floyd's The Wall album cover rendered with Legos). Link to an analysis of The Wall: http://home.mchsi.com/~ttint/

2005-11-03T14:24:00.000-06:00

My Life is a Blank Page

I just realized that I have a collection of blank journals in a variety of sizes. One of them is well used,...the others are not. I don't know why I feel the need to collect them, if I'm not going to use them. Kinda silly. Maybe there's some psychosis linked to this collecting. For the record, it's not obsessive/compulsive behavior,....I don't have a closest stacked to the ceiling with blank journals or diaries. I do have four in my office. I just brought a new one from home today. What's this fascination? Am I trying to achieve a look? Am I trying to be something that I'm not? Do I think that if I surround myself with these empty pages that I will possibly be inspired to write something brilliant,....or for that matter write at all or maybe sketch something? You know, I think I am afraid to write in them. Maybe if I make a mark in each of them that will suffice in "priming the pump" and I will begin to utilize them.

2005-10-31T14:17:00.000-06:00

DO THIS:

The rules:
1. Delve into your blog archive.
2. Find your 23rd post (or closest to).
3. Find the fifth sentence (or closest to).
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions. Ponder it for meaning, subtext or hidden agendas…
5. Tag five people to do the same.

My 23rd post was about the irony of my son's football team's mascot being the cardinals and playing a catholic team:

"I instantly laughed and thought of a great t-shirt design that I'm sure would NOT be school sanctioned."

I guess I am a jovial person who is very visual and enjoys good design. I would like for those around me to be happy, so I share my laughter, maybe too broadly, possibly with people who don't care or want to laugh. I am also overly concerned about authority and what other people may think.

2005-10-28T09:08:00.000-05:00

One HOT Poem!

I SHALL SEEK AND FIND YOU...

I SHALL TAKE YOU TO BED AND HAVE MY WAY WITH YOU...

I WILL MAKE YOU ACHE, SHAKE AND SWEAT UNTIL YOU MOAN AND GROAN...

I WILL MAKE YOU BEG FOR MERCY...

BEG FOR ME TO STOP...

I WILL EXHAUST YOU TO THE POINT THAT YOU WILL BE RELIEVED WHEN I'M FINISHED WITH YOU...

AND YOU WILL BE WEAK FOR DAYS...

ALL MY LOVE,

THE FLU

Now get your mind out of the gutter.............. and,...

GO GET YOUR FLU SHOT !

2005-10-23T05:26:00.000-05:00

Baby's Gone

Conway Twitty sang a song about signs which indicated that his relationship with his wife or girlfriend was over called Baby's Gone(certainly there have been other similar themed songs in the country genre, but this is the standard by which all other Baby's Gone knock-offs are measured) I can't help but recall those words when I look at our 7th grade son and see signs of him maturing. Baby's Gone. In my thoughts those words don't express the same sentiment that Conway sang in front of a backdrop of crying steel guitar(my relationship with Holden is evolving but I think it's still in tact), but they just seem to fit as I see our 13 year old baby growing up and gettin gone. And there's not a damn thing I can do about it. Oh, this is no surprise to me(I'm not in TOTAL denial of reality) since I have regularly seen him reaching milestones in his life. But the reason it's such a fresh topic with me is that Holden just came upon another milestone on Friday. Probably not a major one(somehow they all seem major), but certainly another indicator that Baby's Gone. Holden had a friend over and they spent most of Friday evening and the next day talking to girls on AIM!!!!, an instant messaging center for AOL(hope it's not costing me anything, I'm not an AOL guy). In addition to that change is a bi-product annoyance: Where once I had a peaceful reign over our computer,...now, just since Friday, I have been demanded, begged and bribed off the computer just so he can see who's online. Peace has turned into a scheduling nightmare for time on the computer. I can see a second one in our near future. But this was just like every other milestone in his life. A flip of the switch. One day he's wearing diapers, the next he's potty trained. One day the training wheels on his little bike were rattling, the next they're off he was pulling away from my hand under his own power and control on two wheels. Thursday, he showed little interest in instant messaging, but with a flip of a switch, and Friday he's obsessed with it. Baby's Gone. I guess the training wheels of life have been taken off. Now I should, with a sense of pride and a prayer for his guidance, lovingly watch as he peddles away. Can he stay on, will he know how to turn, does he understand braking, how will he take the spots with bumps and loose gravel? All are questions, worries, concerns. Baby's Gone. It's bittersweet. But there's no reason that I can't ride along side/with him. Okay, I need to stop this sappy stuff or I'm going to be a mess. I have tears, but I am happy, too. I can see how his acceptance of new responsibilities at school have matured him just over the past 9 weeks. I am very proud of him and think he has adapted to the changes in his life well, with some minor bumps(I know this is just the beginning, but I'm a sensitive new age guy). Holden has been thrown into a new school at a difficult age and has had to make new friends. He has had to adjust to a new schedule with more school and personal responsibilities. And with some hard work, he has all A's and one B(again this is just the beginning, I know,...I hope he does too). He is playing football, which is yet another step on his own. But, I can't really help him much there. I only played basketball. Holden's growing up, which is the only acceptable alternative. Baby's Gone,...so please watch him like a hawk, God.

2005-10-18T11:10:00.000-05:00

Your Silent Face
by New Order
A thought that never changes
Remains a stupid lie
It's never been quite the same
No hearing or breathing
No movement, no colors
Just silence

Rise and fall of shame
A search that shall remain
We asked you what you'd seen
You said you didn't care

Sound formed in a vacuum
May seem a waste of time
It's always been just the same
No hearing or breathing
No movement no lyrics
Just nothing

The sign that leads the way
The path we can not take
You've caught me at a bad time
So why don't you piss off

2005-10-17T12:41:00.000-05:00

THE OIL SHORTAGE
A lot of folks can't understand how we came to have an oil shortage here in America. ~~~ Well, there's a very simple answer. ~~~ Nobody bothered to check the oil. ~~~ We just didn't know we were getting low. ~~~ The reason for that is purely geographical. ~~~ Our OIL is located in ~~~ Alaska ~~~ California ~~~ Oklahoma and TEXAS ~~~ Our DIPSTICKS are located in Washington DC!

2005-10-13T12:06:00.000-05:00

A Unicef poster in France targeted at children with the message that "war is bad". Has Bush seen this? He might just get it presented in this format, on this level. I heard the U.S. version depicted the Smurfs bombing Gargamell delivering the message to our children that "war is good". When we need to, we can spin and counter-spin with the best of them.

2005-10-12T13:34:00.000-05:00

SUCCESS:
At age 4 success is . . . . not peeing in your pants.
At age 12 success is . . . having friends.
At age 16 success is . . . having a drivers license.
At age 35 success is . . . having money.
At age 50 success is . . . having money.
At age 70 success is . . . having a drivers license.
At age 75 success is . . . having friends.
At age 80 success is . . . not peeing in your pants.

2005-10-11T13:28:00.000-05:00

Politicians or Patriots?

Thomas Paine, revolutionist, writer, orator stated in his pamphlet, Common Sense on January 10, 1776, "We have it in our power to begin the World over again!", speaking of the convening of the second continental congress to change the way things had been done and to seek independence from Great Britain. In general, it seems that our leaders(and citizens as well) have lost that patriotic spirit: “to make things new again”. It is also true of every session of Congress today, that they have the opportunity, through their words and actions, to, in a sense, "begin the world over again", as Thomas Paine suggested in his publication prior to our independence. Yet, our leaders seem fearful now. Not afraid of losing their lives or placing at risk the lives of their families or fellow citizens through espousing radical ideas of government, as the patriots of 1776 did, but our politicians fear making a statement which, though right, may be unpopular, and may therefore jeopardize their political careers. And though their goals may not be completely wrong for our country, they are not devoid of personal or self serving gain. Their goals seem focused on securing public office and holding to that office as long as possible, by any means necessary, rather than fulfilling their roles as public servants. They have conveniently rewritten their job descriptions to include the tasks of getting re-elected and raising funds for their friends to be elected. And those tasks are not small. They seem to taint every decision they make, if not plainly impede the completion of their elected duties. It seems that they are working for their party rather than working for our country, the people who "sign their paychecks". And those two are NOT synonymous. Our lawmakers seem bound by their pride and their greed, bound by their desire for prestige, money and power, the very things actors moving to Hollywood could be accused of pursuing. Our elected officials seem more interested in maintaining a privileged lifestyle by pleasing campaign contributors than boldly stepping out for what’s right for our nation. They are all about preserving their careers rather than serving the public. I would fear what our country would look like if our founding fathers had had the attitudes of our government officials today. We all have the power within us to "begin the world over again" with every sunrise. It's not just the responsibility of our elected officials, for by their job descriptions, as I recall them being outlined by Coach Ivy in my 9th grade civics class, they are chosen by us to only do our bidding, to represent us, "we the people". It is also our responsibility, the common man, to not just pursue our personal goals to the detriment of our fellow citizens, but to view the common good as supreme. That is living in community. That is true patriotism.

2005-10-06T08:36:00.000-05:00

"It's an orangeade sky,...."

2005-10-03T20:24:00.000-05:00

LIVE BY THE SWORD?

No one should be surprised by the indictments leveed against Tom "the Hammer" Delay, including him. Is it a partisan political game? You betcha! I can't help but think of the words of Jesus,..."if you live by the sword, you die by the sword",....Jesus told Peter that while miraculously putting a man's ear back on that Peter had just sliced off in the garden of Gethsemane, before Jesus was taken to trial and ultimately crucified. Tom you will be tried but you may only feel like you have been crucified(consult your former political opponents to inquire as to how this will feel since many of them experienced this same feeling by your hand). Jesus also said earlier in his ministry, something like this, "the way that you judge others is the way that you will be judged."(I would think that the Republicans, especially Texas Republicans, in this Bush era should know these quotes from the most influential person in our President's life). Tom Delay plays the political game and "hammers" his opponents,...he has even been known to take measures so his defeated opponents can't get jobs as lobbyists after he is elected. Is this part of his duties as an elected official? I don't think any elected official has any responsibilities surrounding outplacement coordination much less impeding the employment of former political foes. It's malicious, petty and a waste of our tax dollars in paying you for doing something that is not in your job description. This man seems to be a huge player in the partisan political game and expects his opponents not to play the game by the same rules with which he plays? Come on Tom! On top of that, your smuggness endears you to no one. Not even to my conservative Republican parents! They think you appear guilty as sin, and in politics how one appears is essential, so much so that reality sometimes becomes secondary. My parents believe the Republicans have more honest seeming and less smarmy appearing Republicans to choose from lead the House. They see you as a haughty man with a condescending aire that makes them and everyone else think that you believe you're above the law. Again,....who cares what the facts are?! Just the way you come off,...the way you carry yourself, makes you unpalatable for the Republicans and definitely for the Democrats. Like a tough piece of gristly beef,....everybody wants spit you out. Nobody wants you on their plate. Take a bit of advice from a common man, now that you are kissing the canvas, don't bother to get up to try and go another round, even if you stop seeing those stars. Your opponents are forming a line and beginning to take numbers. Your corner is emptying of your supporters. Now, all the bets are against you. Now that you are a blight, no one wants you. Stay down. Even your coach is about to throw in the towel on you. You're fighting injured, your eyes are swollen shut and you can't see anything. You are damaged goods. Your career as a fighter is over. You have traded blows with your opponents and have had some KO's,...but I believe that you have met your match on this one, son. You have drawn a huge target on your back by your ruthless character in politics,....now everyone in politics that you have affronted with your no holds barred attitude is aiming for you,....ruthlessly. It doesn't matter what side you are on, pal,....everyone's lining up to take you on. Soon both parties will start taking cracks at you. So, don't delay,....do yourself and our country a favor,.....get out of government now! Retire to the ranch. But be confident that on the list of things you have accomplished, you may leave the box checked that says, "crooked politician" you may also leave the one checked "successful politician",....sadly in our country, those seem to go hand in hand.

2005-09-29T22:59:00.000-05:00

Papaw and Holden on the Farm All

2005-09-29T22:46:00.000-05:00

walking after winter rain

2005-09-29T22:37:00.000-05:00

ACTION JACKSON!

2005-09-29T20:38:00.000-05:00

LET'S EAT!!!

2005-09-27T22:43:00.000-05:00

The incandescent barometric pressure of Lima, Peru
I have been nervous about going into the 7th grade at Tarville Junior High. It seems so, well,...I don’t know,...ummm, big and threatening. Here are all of these kids whose hormones are already raging or on the verge of raging and who are taken from a nurturing, safe environment of their elementary years and thrown into a self sufficient atmosphere in a totally different school with totally different students from consolidating elementary schools across the district,....well, I don’t have to tell you that the anxiety barometric pressure was high and the climate was right for and adolescent electrical storm. All of those elements of junior high make for quite a volatile concoction, not to mention all the new faces and the searching for your place in the junior high pecking order. And they really shouldn’t allow smoking in the boys room because just one strike of a match at the wrong time and,...KABOOM! Pent up emotions and sex and drugs and rock n roll and lots of testosterone everywhere! Really, seventh grade doesn’t seem all that different from elementary school, just a few more classes, a few more classroom changes in a day and more kids and more peer pressure and more homework and more responsibility,....I know,...other than that Mrs. Lincoln,...how was the play?

Well, that’s not all,...on top of all of that it seems that we have a project due at the end of the first six weeks. Mercy Knox has been the 7th grade World Geography teacher for as long as the school has been here. Some say she was the primary teacher in the 40's when there was just a one room brick school and I believe it. I knew this assignment was coming. Miss Knox is known for having no warm up or introductory period to 7th grade. She says a few welcoming remarks and then it starts. Work, work, work. We call her "Merciless" Knox. And everyone knows that topic of the first paper of the year will always be Lima, Peru. People say she was a missionary in Peru after she completed her college education from a big Baptist college in Arkansas. They said that she was a missionary for the Baptist church in Candessant, Peru, a small town about 90 miles south of Lima. It was named Candessant because this was the first village in those parts to have an incandessant light bulb(prior to the name change it was a foot long word that even Peruvians had difficulty saying,.....it’s plain to see that they were just itching for a reason to change the name of their village). Another missionary had been called to preach in that remote village,...but was NOT called to give up electricity,...so having an engineering education from Georgia Tech,....he put his education to use and built a generator,...mostly with things he could find around the village and when he would venture into other villages and towns. Mercy was one of the first female Baptist missionaries, and especially in that part of the world. The story is that the work of God was not going so well for Mercy in the male dominant society within the small Peruvian village. When this happened, well, she kind of got depressed and felt powerless, which is not a common feeling for the Knox family. Her Dad was a big, wealthy overseer at one of the biggest sock mills in Tarville, Sock Capital of the World. She kind of "let her guard down" and fell in love with an electrician from Lima who was putting in power poles with a crew that was running the first electrical lines to the small village of Candessant. His dark Peruvian hair and complexion kind of over-powered her. She was weakened and she succumbed to his exotic Peruvian charms and the next thing you know Miss Knox was back in town with a dark haired and dark complected daughter she had named Grace.

That was another first for Miss Knox. Usually the girls who get pregnant outside of marriage run away from Tarville to get married to their premarital sex partners(as I have overheard them being described by my mother to one of her friends as they gossiped in the vestibule of the church house)and to have their "out of wedlock" babies(they won’t say bastard outside the church, so I know they won’t say it in the church). Miss Mercy Knox ran to Tarville,....and without the Peruvian power pole guy, the father of Grace. All of this I know from that one short gossip session in the church foyer between my Mom and Miss Beulah Burke. Little children have big ears, but only when good stuff like this is being discussed in church.

So Lima, Peru is the subject and we must choose one aspect of the country to explore and write a report on,....2000 words or less. I think less is definitely going to be my focus. I haven’t quite decided but I think I will write a report about the obvious,...I hope no one else thinks about reporting on the major export, but they probably will and when you don’t have a uniqueness about you, you kind of get lost in the crowd and lose your identity. Oh, I’m sure someone else will write about Lima’s number one export, lima beans. I guess I better prepare an alternative topic so as to keep my individuality about me. Hey, I know,...this might not be too exciting, but maybe I should write about the guy who came up with the word "peruse" or "to look into". Not many know but he was from a suburb of Lima, Peru. That would be unique! See Peru is up high on a mountain and "looks into"(peruses) a large valley, which is very fertile because it is part of the Peruvian River Basin. When the monsoon season comes, the Peruvian River moves beyond its banks and brings life giving water to the rest of the valley, making the conditions of the soil just right for growing lima beans.

You know, I have no idea about the accuracy of the facts that I have been spouting about Lima, Peru. They are probably about as true as most of that stuff about Miss Knox I heard from Mom and Miss Burkee. I’m a fiction writer, for Pete’s sake! And my Mom is into fiction too, so, I guess I get it honest. Maybe I’ll spice up the class and turn in a story about, "Early Female Missionaries in Candessant, Peru". Or I could just go with something like, "The Barometric Pressure in Candessant, just outside Lima, Peru". I don’t know. Which one would you rather read? Gf 9/27/03

2005-09-27T22:24:00.000-05:00

Half a Dragon by Holden 1999

2005-09-27T10:25:00.000-05:00

Would you believe,......he's gone?

It seems like all of my "re-run after school heros", or more recently my TVLAND buddies, are all "buying the farm". I would have never imagined Don Adams to be 82,...but then again, I really didn't think about it that much. I am beginning feel the need to not take these yesterday's stars(and seeming friends) for granted anymore.

I remember passing the opportunity to see Roy Orbison in concert in the late 80's/early 90's. He was playing a small club in downtown Scottsdale, AZ, near our home. Twice he played there and twice I failed to capitalize on the close proximity of a concert of a, then, living legend in Rock n Roll history. Then he died. I told my wife I would NOT pass up an opportunity to see a legend again. If some artist was touring through and looked as though they were not living a healthy life style and they looked like ripe candidates for the Grim Reaper, then we were buying tickets. BB King was coming through town; we bought tickets. My thought process was like this: he's a little over weight and could have a heart attack and he does have diabetes, which can compound one's medical problems and contribute to a rapid decline and death. I was very close to asking any living legend candidates to submit their recent health records in order for me to run them through my matrix to assist in making my decisions about concert ticket purchases.

Well, I never had an option to see Don Adams in concert, but I watched Get Smart and Tennessee Tuxedo and Inspector Gadget quite often. Though, he won a couple of Emmys for Get Smart,...my 13 year old would only know him as the voice of Inspector Gadget. But to his family and friends, I'm sure he was more than just a voice.

Don Adams passed away September 25, 2005 from a lung infection.

2005-09-26T08:04:00.000-05:00

MISTER ROGER'S MUSIC MAN

Johnny Costa was the Mozart of jazz piano. Jazz legend Art Tatum, called Costa "the white Tatum." Costa, one of the world's greatest pianists, is best known for his work as the musical director of "Mister Rogers' Neighborhood," a PBS television program now in its 35th year. But Costa was much more than a pianist for children. A musician's musician, his work was applauded by jazz masters Benny Carter, Dave Brubeck, Tommy Dorsey, Dizzy Gillespie, Marion McPartland, Peter Nero, Andre Previn, Buddy Rich, Mel Torme and Art Tatum, Costa's most significant influence.

Costa's first recording was "The Amazing Johnny Costa," a Savoy LP released in 1955. It was reissued on CD in 1989 as "Neighborhood." In the 1950s, Costa cut short a career that would have brought him international recognition as a pianist and recording artist. Long road trips and concerts from home, although lucrative, did not compensate for the loss of companionship of his friends and family, the latter which included his wife, daughter and son (Helen, Debbie and John Junior). Costa stopped traveling, ended a promising recording career, gave up the job as the first musical director of the "Mike Douglas Show" and returned to Pittsburgh, never again venturing far from its city limits.

Graduating with two degrees in music from Carnegie-Mellon University, Costa began work as a musician on a Pittsburgh television station on the day he graduated. He provided piano and organ music for many programs, eventually teaming with Fred Rogers to create the most successful children's program on television. Even after his death in 1996, Costa's piano still resounds throughout Neighborhood programs.

2005-09-24T22:26:00.000-05:00

TUSK: A Review; 25 years late

I loved "Desert Island Classics" surveys in The Rolling Stone magazine. If you are not "hip" to what those are, they are lists of classic recordings that various people(stars, politicians, public figures) would see as essential if they were going to be stranded on an island. Besides Mary Ann(not Ginger),....Fleetwood Mac's "Tusk" would be one of my choices for a "Desert Island Classic". I think it was early 80's,....my college roomate, Jay, bought this double album that didn't have a fold out jacket with a side for each individual disc,...which was unusual. It did have two plastic sleeves, but they fit into the one compartment. Now that we are through the technical jargon, let me say that I was a Fleetwood Mac buyer prior to this having purchase Rhiannon and Rumors,...but I didn't feel the urge to purchase this album. But at school, I heard Jay's album and it grew to be a favorite. At first, I didn't necessarily care for the cut "Tusk", the song for which the album was titled, but I started digging the African beat and their improvised Swahili gibberish. I just enjoyed the overall rollercoaster effect the variety of music tempos gave. I would never have thought anyone would start an album with a slow ballad "Over and over",...but I think it appropriately set the general unpredictable tone for this effort. Now, don't get me wrong, there are some songs that are quite jumpy that are interspersed amongst the nice mellow love songs. They work as well as the tunes that are hypnotic and relaxing. I think a few could possibly qualify for spa music because they are so slow and steady and beautiful. The whole thing could be broken into three categories. The "Down Tempo" or most mellow songs: Over and Over, Storms, Brown Eyes, Never make Me Cry, Beautiful Child. The "Up Tempo" or most energetic songs: The Ledge, What makes you think, Sisters of the Moon, That's Enough for Me, Angel, I know I'm Not Wrong, Never Forget. The "Pseudo Trance" or "Hypnotic" or those songs that are somewhere in the middle of the previous two categories: Save Me a Place, Sara, That's All for Everyone, Honey Hi, Walk a Thin Line. I think Hypnotic is the pervasive feeling I get when I listen to this music, more than any other music,....Even the "up tempo" songs I could easily describe as hypnotic,...For me(maybe I need someone to delve deep into my psyche to figure out if there are other "issues" revolving around TUSK). I can simply go into a different world when listening to "Walk a Thin Line",...Which may not be too good while driving to Dallas in traffic at rush hour on I-30. Tusk is musical canes for me. It can take me through the continuum of emotions in three songs. It's lit and airy, it's passionate and somber, it's reflective. With such a range it takes a while for me to take this CD out of my car. Thank goodness people reproduced this on CD,....I don't think Jay would be too crazy about loaning his album to me as he did in college(since I am hundreds of miles away),....and then I would have to rig my turntable in my car,....and my needle arm is pretty sensitive to bumps, and just forget about the toll the heat would take on his vinyl. Tusk is where it's at,....Dude.(see,..."Walk a Thin Line" just came on and I instantly slipped back in time,....OH NO!,.....looks like I"VE BEEN HIP-MO-TIZED!)

2005-09-23T15:28:00.000-05:00

• 1826 Sealy, Galveston, Texas; Sonnentheil House, 1886-87. Built by Jacob Sonnentheil, this fine "carpenter" Gothic residence was possibly designed by Nicholas J. Clayton. Clues such as a floor plan similar to other Clayton-designed residences lead to this conclusion. Unique balustrades and numerous woodworking details are outstanding features.

This is the home of friends who completely renovated it back to its original state and beauty. Certainly life is irreplaceable and we pray Rita is not successful in taking that, but we also pray she is not able to take this man-made wonder that has survived 4 other hurricanes, including the 1900 hurricane that devastated the island and "turned the tide" in city growth diverting the population to Houston instead of the, then, largest city in Texas, Galveston. God save 1826 Sealy!

2005-09-21T22:13:00.000-05:00

Send in the clowns? They're already here!
A couple of paint by number paintings that my brother did long ago . Any resemblence to the two guys below in the fishing photo is merely conincidental. Check out the Smithsonian's address of this popular pastime from the 50's at their website below: http://americanhistory.si.edu/paint/

2005-09-20T16:27:00.000-05:00

A President and a Sportsman!

2005-09-19T21:43:00.000-05:00

DEEP THOUGHTS by Jack Handey

I'd like to see a nature film where an eagle swoops down and pulls a fish out of a lake, and then maybe he's flying along, low to the ground, and the fish pulls a worm out of the ground. Now that's a documentary. - Jack Handey (aka Jack Handy)

I wish outer space guys would conquer the Earth and make people their pets, because I'd like to have one of those little beds with my name on it. - Jack Handey (aka Jack Handy)

Sometimes I think you have to march right in and demand your rights, even if you don't know what your rights are, or who the person is you're talking to. Then on the way out, slam the door. - Jack Handey (aka Jack Handy)

If you're a cowboy and you're dragging a guy behind your horse, I bet it would really make you mad if you looked back and the guy was reading a magazine. - Jack Handey (aka Jack Handy)

As a young boy, when you get splashed by a mud puddle on the way to school, you wonder if you should go home and change, but be late for school, or go to school the way you are; dirty and soaking wet. Well, while he tried to decide, I drove by and splashed him again. - Jack Handey (aka Jack Handy)

If your friend is already dead, and being eaten by vultures, I think it's okay to feed some bits of your friend to one of the vultures, to teach him to do some tricks. But only if you're serious about adopting the vulture. - Jack Handey (aka Jack Handy)

Broken promises don't upset me. I just think, why did they believe me? - Jack Handey (aka Jack Handy)

I hope that someday we will be able to put away our fears and prejudices and just laugh at people. - Jack Handey (aka Jack Handy)

If you ever crawl inside an old hollow log and go to sleep, and while you're in there some guys come and seal up both ends and then put it on a truck and take it to another city, boy, I don't know what to tell you. - Jack Handey (aka Jack Handy)

One thing vampire children have to be taught early on is, don't run with a wooden stake. - Jack Handey (aka Jack Handy)

If you go to a costume party at your boss's house, wouldn't you think a good costume would be to dress up like the boss's wife? Trust me, it's not. - Jack Handey (aka Jack Handy)

There's nothing so tragic as seeing a family pulled apart by something as simple as a pack of wolves. - Jack Handey (aka Jack Handy)

Consider the daffodil. And while you're doing that, I'll be over here, looking through your stuff. - Jack Handey (aka Jack Handy)

For mad scientists who keep brains in jars, here's a tip: why not add a slice of lemon to each jar, for freshness? - Jack Handey (aka Jack Handy)

If I was the head of a country that lost a war, and I had to sign a peace treaty, just as I was signing, I'd glance over the treaty and then suddenly act surprised. "Wait a minute! I thought we won!" - Jack Handey (aka Jack Handy)

Somebody told me how frightening it was how much topsoil we are losing each year, but I told that story around the campfire and nobody got scared. - Jack Handey (aka Jack Handy)

I wish I had a dollar for every time I spent a dollar, because then, Yahoo!, I'd have all my money back. - Jack Handey (aka Jack Handy)

I think people tend to forget that trees are living creatures. They're sort of like dogs. Huge, quiet, motionless dogs, with bark instead of fur. - Jack Handey (aka Jack Handy)

Instead of studying for finals, what about just going to the Bahamas and catching some rays? Maybe you'll flunk, but you might have flunked anyway; that's my point. - Jack Handey (aka Jack Handy)

I bet for an Indian, shooting an old fat pioneer woman in the back with an arrow, and she fires her shotgun into the ground as she falls over, is like the top thing you can do. - Jack Handey (aka Jack Handy)

Perhaps, if I am very lucky, the feeble efforts of my lifetime will someday be noticed, and maybe, in some small way, they will be acknowledged as the greatest works of genius ever created by Man. - Jack Handey (aka Jack Handy)

2005-09-19T09:20:00.000-05:00

Holden's rendition of Good Charlotte

2005-09-19T09:14:00.000-05:00

Alligator boots and a Toboggan Sled

Hemaroids and cowboys boots,....some people say that sooner or later every asshole gets 'em. I decided that since I really wasn’t a cowboy, I should refrain from wearing cowboy gear. In certain parts of Texas, you run the risk of someone snatching you up to rope a stray steer or join a cattle drive to move a herd of longhorns from Fort Worth to Kansas City or ride with a posse to bring a horse thief to swift justice. Being a transplant from the southeast has seemingly made this whole cowboy notion a forbidden fruit of sorts. I struggled deeply with who I really was before I made a choice to purchase a piece of cowboy attire. Funny that such a trival venture could nearly put you on the couch of your favorite psychotherapist to find out whether your subdued Tex Ritter side could overpower and send your rockabilly Elvis roots into the far and remote recesses of your psyche, to remain dormant the rest of your natural life.

It was more than just a pair of boots, though. These looked like they were top of the line, even though they were dusty, aged and worn looking sitting on the shelf in a turn of the century boot repair shop just off the square in downtown Comanche. There they were, a pair of mystical alligator boots, sitting on the shelf with other unclaimed boots which had been repaired but never paid for and picked up. It seems this boot repair shop had been a fixture in this small ranching town, two hours southwest of downtown Fort Worth, for several generations. Handed down from father to son since the mid 1800's, but the latest twist was that in the last of the Van Buren family, there were no sons produced, therefore, in 2000, the new millineum ushered in a new era and a feminine side of boot repair, with Vera Van Buren(she was bold enough in the 70's to tell her husband she intended to keep her original and proud name, and he was not man enough to protest the decision).

Vera saw the look of intrigue in my eye as I perused her shelf of abandoned boots, and she was even perceptive enough to see my pupils dilate when they caught a glance of those cayman narrow toed ropers from the swamps of Louisiana. They looked big enough, but I just didn’t know, my eyes had deceived me before. I didn’t want to get my hopes up that they were 12's(the width variance I could just deal with)and then they disappointingly turn out to be 11.5's. Almost 12, but just a half size off,...enough to cause the most severe discomfort. Now most boots that fit perfectly are somehow always uncomfortable, though most people(men) will lie and tell you they are the most comfortable shoes they own. They are just so head over heels about them because they took out a home equity loan to purchase them! But boots that don’t fit could be easily classified as hell on earth. The purchaser is too proud to admit his mistake(a male problem only, women never wear uncomfortable shoes, they either take them back or they park them and wear every pair but those, ignoring them until they become just like a bad dream)and will never take them back, for fear of having to admit he bought them without trying them on, or worse, tried them on and talked himself out of the pain in order to have the look. In other words their eyes were too big.

Vera was sitting back at her cobbler bench sipping on a bowl of chicken noodle soup, it being lunch time. She wasn’t in the most prone position to see a buying eye, yet growing up in the boot repair business had made her senses so keen that she could pick up on the slightest buyers symptoms, a subtle double take, a brief rubbing of the dry lips(dry from all moisture going to keep up with the over production of saliva triggered by the lust for cowboy boots), tentatively tapping the counter while softly whistling the theme from The Magnificent Seven,...Vera recognized them all and could spot them from great distances. She didn't even need to make eye contact to sense a "buy cue" and start making her sales pitch. Vera would love to be able to unload any pair of those stranded boots just to get her investment of time and leather for the repairs. If she could do that and bump the price up for a little profit, she felt like she had a good business day and would close early to go to the tastee freeze to treat herself to a peanut butter blueberry shake, maybe even buy a round for the house. One of her biggest marketing strategies was to liquidate the leftover repaired boots. Doesn’t sound like much of an aggressive business plan, but she already had a corner on the boot repair market and the added revenue from erasing her bad debt would be enough to buy a new magnetic sign advertising the repair shop to place on her 78 F-150,...another marketing strategy to bring in additional business from the county. Vera was planning on going to the county fair everyday getting there early in the morning to get a good front parking spot near the horse arena. Her magnetic sign would surely get some recognition there. Next year she is contemplating putting an on-site repair shop there, but that would require her to hire an additional employee to watch the shop, at least part time.
I thought I was hiding my interest in the alligator boots, my lust for leather. Vera barked from the back when she saw my lips drying out, "Not a big price for you to walk out with gators on your dogs. All I want’s what I got in em." She took a quick sip of soup, hopped off the stool and strolled toward the wayward boot shelf, picked up the pair I had thought I was not so conspicuously looking at. She looked at the sole, heel, and said the repairs she saw were minor, and should only be about $60,...a small price to pay for alligator, no matter how aged these looked. Then she turned to the inside of the boot. She let out a short grunt and stuck her hand in the boot and pulled out a small piece of paper which seemed to have been stuck to the insole at the heel. Vera looked at the note and said, seems these have been here for a while, came from the panhandle in early 60's seems a Mr. Jim Dean was passing through and dropped them off for repair. He said that he would pay for them now and telephone back to give the address where to forward them. He never called back with the address.

I was excited that the repair had been paid for. It seemed that I would be able to get these for a song, maybe $10 or $20. How much for them, I asked Vera. Then Vera said "Hmm?,...not quite sure, but it seems something else goes with these puppies. She said This is grandad’s handwriting, but I’m not sure if I know what he’s talking about here." Grandad had passed away a few years ago, but Vera never heard him mention this pair of boots or the note inside." She asked me to follow her out back to the barn, I wondered what could possibly be there that would be connected to the boots. We went into the barn and climbed up the ladder to the loft. I had only been in a barn loft one other time in high school under much different circumstances, never to be associated or similar to this trip, so I didn’t know quite what to expect. She went to the back and peaked behind several bales of hay and started to push them over, onto the floor of the loft. Slowly she uncovered a canvas tarp covering a large object. Vera was saying all along that those boots were tied to this object under the canvas. She said that the owner of the boots had not only left his boots for repair, but grandad Van Buren seemed to have agreed to repair something other than boots. Vera finally got to the edge of the tarp and began to uncover this large boxy item. It looked glossy and red, quite a dichotomy compared to the other dull and listless objects in the barn. As she uncovered the hidden treasure, I couldn’t believe my eyes. This part of the country was no place for this gear,.....a tobbagan sled?! What on earth?! What in Texas?! Why in Texas?! Vera said that if I bought the boots that I would have to take the tobaggan sled also, the piece of paper said that I would and grandad had written it, so I guess that was the final word. Grandad had listed that he had repaired one of the runners with some ultra lite, yet durable wood he had shipped from some European country where sledding was more popular. I was ready to take the boots and the sled, when Vera looked inside the cockpit of the sled and found another note and a photo. The note turned out to be a sales slip from LL Bean and was signed James Dean. The photo was a winter shot taken on the set of Giant, filmed in the panhandle. There in glossy black and white was James, Rock and Elizabeth with the sled. We quickly put together that James, the adventurer, had taken them to sled in the Colorado Rockies while on a break from filming Giant. Quickly the price of the boots skyrocketed and Vera, as quickly, saw easy retirement years come into focus. I made her a bid on the boots, but Vera was nice, not nuts. She said that she would make me a deal on another pair of gators she had on the "stepchild" shelf. I chalked the whole afternoon in the shop to a brush with greatness, a story that would last a lifetime. I now had an eternal conversation starter, and a reasonably priced pair of alligators to boot. jgf 2003

2005-09-17T21:25:00.000-05:00

Wallace and Gromit in

The Curse of the Were-Rabbit

This is nice British humor. It's not just for kids, they will probably miss most of the dialogue anyway, kind of like we did when we watched The Rocky and Bullwinkle Show. There are three previous Wallace and Gromit movies on DVD and VHS, Grand Day Out, The Wrong Trousers, and A Close Shave.

2005-09-17T21:01:00.000-05:00

It has been a while since I saw this film. I liked it well enough to remember the title, which is a big challenge for me these days. May be difficult to find. In 2001, Andrew Lloyd Webber opened a big musical based on the novel and the film, however, his musical was set in Louisiana instead of outside of London. I don't think it ran very long. This may be a difficult film to find, but easier than catching it on TMC or another vintage movie channel. I think it is only in VHS format. Not the best movie I had ever seen, but touching and I liked the symbolism,....or what I perceived to be symbolism.

Whistle Down the Wind
1962 - UK - Religious Drama/Childhood DramaReviewed by Bosley Crowther

Type: FeaturesDistributor: J. Arthur Rank Productions Rating: NR Running Time: 98 minutes Starring: Alan Bates, Norman Bird, Diane Clare, Patricia Heneghan, Bernard Lee, Hayley Mills, Elsie WagstaffeDirected by: Bryan Forbes
PLOT DESCRIPTIONBryan Forbes' first directorial effort is set in a rugged Lancashire farm community. Three impressionable children, played by Hayley Mills, Diane Holgate, and Alan Barnes, come across a bearded vagrant named Arthur Blakey (Alan Bates) sleeping in their barn. Upon awakening, the ill-tempered bum takes a look at the white-eyed kids and mutters the imprecation "Jesus Christ!" In their innocence, the children assume that Arthur is Jesus Christ, and they spread the word to their friends. In truth, he is an escaped killer. But when the authorities come around looking for him, the kids, remembering Christ's persecution, do their best to protect their far-from-deserving new friend. Though the material, based on a novel by Mary Hayley Bell (Hayley Mills's mother) could have been mawkish and obvious in other hands, Forbes handles the situation and the characters realistically; even the blatant New Testament symbolism is logically incorporated into the proceedings. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

2005-09-16T11:00:00.000-05:00

GO CARDINALS!

BEAT THE CHRISTIANS!

I don't have photoshop or I would have put some numbers on them, maybe some real football helmets(the helmets they have on don't look too protective). My son's school mascot is the cardinal. While looking for photos for his blog, I noticed my son had pulled up this image when he googled "cardinals". His blog is: http://fightingcards.blogspot.com . I instantly laughed and thought of a great t-shirt design that I'm sure would NOT be school sanctioned. So I put it here. The headlines should be "Beat Prestonwood Christian Lions", but it's not quite as funny,...so I am kind of milking it for a laugh, a little. Should the Cardinals trounce the Lions in tonights homecoming game, would the sports page story headlines read, "Cardinals Beat the Hell Out of the Christians!"? We beat Nolan, the parochial school. I bet "Cardinals beat the Catholics" would have won some friends and influenced some people. Probably not, but you must admit that the play on words and the imagery linked with this photo is pretty good. The Fighting Cardinals! That's almost as good as Wake Forest University(Baptist college) having "The Demon Deacons" as their mascot. I guess in the history of the world some cardinals have fought. I think a nun was teaching boys to fight in an old black and white film with Bing Crosby, "Boys Town"(not sure about the title). And I guess there have been some demon deacons in this world and some Catholics and Christians who have needed the hell beat out of them, by Cardinals or Deacons,....or both. I've got to get this design to a t-shirt screener,...maybe not for tonight, but for next year. Epilogue: 9/16 - Christians beat the hell out of the cardinals.

2005-09-15T07:08:00.000-05:00

Vintage Postcard of the Flatiron Building in NYC
Vintage postcard of the Flatiron Building in Fort Worth, Texas

By today's standards the triangle-shaped, seven story Flatiron Building wouldn't rate as a skyscraper but when built in 1907 by Dr. Bacon Saunders it was the tallest building in North Texas. Dr. Saunders, a well-traveled physician with a knack for business, got the idea for the novel office building on a trip to New York, where he saw the original Flatiron Building at 23rd Street and Fifth Avenue.

Flatiron Buildings were built around the turn of the century to make use of the grid corners created by the street planning of that era. Today such structures are revered as historic landmarks. Outstanding restored Flatirons can be found in New York City, Chicago, San Francisco, Chattanooga and Atlanta, as well as Toronto and Vancouver. Fort Worth has the distinction of having the only Flatiron Building in Texas.

2005-09-15T07:00:00.000-05:00

One week after my son was born, my grandfather passed away. I wanted them to know each other, but time did not cooperate. I wrote this introduction of Holden to my grandfather.(excuse the sap,...it was a sappy time)

An Introduction

I would like to tell you of
a new friend I've grown to love,
a special kind of friend in many ways.

He favors you, no doubt,
has that long, flat, Tucker mouth,
he's someone with whom you'd like to spend the day.
(I think you'd like him)

When I'm down, he'll come around,
with a smile or sometimes a frown,
but either way he brings me joy with every word.

He's just like you, that way
and he likes to be out all day.
And if he can't he throws the worst fit ever heard.
(I think you'd like him)

So innocent and small,
but he looks like he's going to be tall,
his speech gets plainer every passing minute.

He loves music and he sings
loud enough to make the rafters ring.
You know, I can't recall my life when he wasn't in it.
(I think you'd like him)

He's courteous at times and sweet.
Never a stranger does he meet,
a real talker, yet another characteristic of you.

He likes to pet all the dogs
is afraid of snakes and frogs,
but his mother is also, and he's bound to be like her too.
(I think you'd like him)

If you were here with us now,
to "go over the fence" or to plow,
you'd have one more buddy walking by your side.

He'd hold a finger of your hand
as you gave him "the lay of the land"
and I'd tag along with a smile and a feeling of pride.
(I think you'd like him)

He knows you by your face,
but a picture just can't replace
rocking beside you, listening to your stories.

But, photographs will have to do,...
that, and hearing my memories of you,
Until we see you walking in those fields of glory.
(I think he'll like you.)

2005-09-14T12:52:00.000-05:00

Mine's just plain blue.
I'm Whistling that Tune!

2005-09-14T12:50:00.000-05:00

The King is Dead from GAS PAINS!

2005-09-14T09:28:00.000-05:00

One of my Addictions

Created in 1963, Cap’n Horatio Crunch is a fun-loving sea captain. He was born and raised on Crunch Island, which is located in the Milk Sea. He wears a blue captain’s uniform, and a large blue captain’s hat. His ships is the SS Guppy, which he sails with his first mate, Seadog(1963), and his crew of four kids. Their mission is to keep the cargo hold of cereal from falling into the hand of Jean La Foote the Barefoot Pirate(1968).
Daws Butler, the voice of Yogi Bear and Huckleberry Hound for Hanna Barbera, and literally dozens of characters in the Fractured Fairy Tales segments for Ward, was the original vice of the Cap’n. June Foray(Rocky the Flying Squirrel, Little Nell, Witch Hazel)played all the female characters as well as two of the kids on the Guppy’s crew. Paul Frees(Boris Badenov, Inspector Fenwick, and most of the pirate voices in "Pirates of the Caribbean" at the Disney theme parks)was the narrator.
Other characters(and cereals)associated with them: Harry S. Hippo(Punch Crunch), Jean Lafoote the Barefoot Pirate(Cinnamon Crunch), Wilma the Winsome White Whale and Seadog(Vanilla Crunch), Chockle the Blob, a shape-shifting blob of chocolate chip cooke dough(Choco Crunch), Crunchberry Beast(Crunch Berries), Smedley the Elephant(Peanut Butter Crunch), Cap’n Crunch as Santa Claus(Christmas Crunch), Tugboat Granny(Cap’n Crunch’s Instant Hot Cereal), Shark and Turtle(Deep Sea Crunch), Magnolia Bulkhead and Otis, The Soggies and Jean Lafoote’s son.
Cap’n Crunch Ship Shake(1969/1970) came in three flavors: Chocolate Malt, Chocolate, and Strawberry. It was "as good for your as a bowl of oatmeal".
Cap’n Crunch’s Airhead Berries(2003)was basically a box of Crunch Berries shaped like balloons in 4 berry flavors. They also included a package of Airheads inside the box.

2005-09-13T09:53:00.000-05:00

My 2001 Terror Attack

Until Katrina, there has been no terror struck in the hearts of Americans like 9/11/01. Obviously, one was an act of nature the other was an act of idiots, a glaring difference. So, though Americans experienced terror with both of these tragic events, we processed them differently. I believe with Katrina America probably felt violated or attacked or vulnerable, just like we did with the events of 9/11, but different because because 9/11 was man-made.

Toward late August/early September in 2001, I got this strange feeling in my gut. Not an emotional feeling, but a physical one. It seemed familiar, yet not. One evening, I awoke to what felt like the worst gas pains one could ever have. I got up I rolled on the floor because it was all I could think to do to try to stop the pain. Finally relief came and I was able to go to sleep. But before I went to sleep I remember thinking about Conway Tweety. For some reason, I remembered how he died and I wondered if I was experiencing what he had experienced in the early 90's that had claimed his life in a hospital Springfield, MO; a ruptured appendix. I knew that my body still didn't feel right. In the following week I noticed I was sweating a lot(even started carrying a towel), had the chills, didn't feel like doing anything, walked bent over and had no appetite, looked bad in . I went to the doctor, he saw blood in my urine and said it was probably a kidney stone. I asked if it could be my appendix. He didn't answer. The next week I made another appointment because I was no better. Again, he had me pee in a cup. And told me to hang in there, ordered a CT scan. Two weeks from that date was as soon as I could get on the schedule. I spoke candidly with a physician I was recruiting for the health system for which I work and he told me to demand an anti-biotic from my physician because it sounded like I had some kind of infection going on. I got my perscription that day and took it that evening and then next day went for a morning CT scan of my gut. The technician made me drink three big cups of this nasty white stuff and I only gagged once. She asked me if I was allergic to shellfish and I asked if that was what we were having for lunch(I didn't see, but I'm sure she rolled her eyes and thought hardee har har, the world's full of unoriginal comedians). I usually am quesy with needles, but was not this day. After that, I headed to Love Field to pick up a doc and his spouse who were interviewing with one of my hospital administrators(he was the same guy who got me to demand an antibiotic) I drove he and his wife to their appointment outside of Fort Worth, and waited on them. I really felt good that day. I remember thinking that maybe I had turned a corner, namely because I had an appetite again. I ate lunch at a local eatery in this small town and as I was paying, got a call on my cell phone from my doctor telling me to go to the emergency room that someone would be there to meet me. That my appendix was rupturing. In fact, it had ruptured,...three weeks prior to that call. God saved my life. I can't think or write about this without crying. At first I thought why did this happen to me,...then I thought why didn't I die like people who normally experience this,...why did God cause a membrane to wall off the infection so it would not spread to the rest of my body. That same evening, on September 18, Doctor Lance Smith removed my appendix and a few feet of my intestine that was gangrenous. He also took off three moles I had the presence of mind to ask about before I went under. He clicked his bic and circled them. Post surgery was no cake walk(it hurt to walk but when I walked I looked like a 90 year old man). I then thought of all the things I had done while carrying this time bomb within me,....cut the yard a few times, drove to Austin and back to attend a conference, worked every day, wore a Clifford the Dog costume for a book fair at our son's school. In the Clifford suite, I sweated profusely. Later I found out it was because of the infection, but then, I just thought it was the costume. I often thought what I would have looked like being wheeled into the ER dressed like a big red dog. "Get that dog outa here! The vet's two blocks east!" Thank you God for getting me through this time of terror. I felt Your peace and I don't know why. And thank you that I didn't have to endure wearing the Clifford suit into the ER.

2005-09-11T21:10:00.000-05:00

Holden using that big head.
The only one in 7th grade with a black varsity helmet, due to the extreme size of his noggin.
Good luck, son! You're my all time favorite football player!