Tuesday, November 29, 2005

who got next?


this morning i got home from seminary ready to get out and finish the roof of the treehouse. as it was only 7:30 when i got home, it was much too cold for me. but, somewhere around 36 degrees, i pulled out our big faux-fur throw, and stretched out on the couch.

"reds" was on hbo-something and i quickly decided to watch. i've never seen it. i know, it was released in 1981, and won some academy awards, but i had never taken the opportunity. actually, i've since learned that it won 3 "oscars" and is the most recent film to be nominated in all four individual acting categories. the cast is amazing: warren beatty, diane keaton, jack nicholson, gene hackman, paul sorvino, maureen stapelton, edward herrman, m emmet walsh, george plimpton, and an uncredited john ratzenberger. it is the "true" story of two american journalists (jack reed and louise bryant) who go to russia during the revolution of the late 1910's. they meet lenin, trotsky and kerensky. like many others in the profession, they grew tired of reporting the news, and desired to BE the news. they became so involved in the revolution that they were two of the original members of the communist party in the united states, and jack reed was actually buried by the kremlin wall with "full revolutionary honors." whatever that means.

the movie was advertised as being a love story. this is truly an important aspect of the film; but, i enjoyed watching it, nonetheless.

curiously, no real mention of tsar nicholas II was made. obviously he was indirectly involved in the movie's plot, but i guess this romanticized version of history would like to deflect attention away from the fact that these "heroic workers" slaughtered women and children along with the tsar. not so lovely , in retrospect - and i haven't even mentioned the millions stalin murdered in the name of communist mother russia.

over the past few months, i have read quite a few books dealing with russia. ( it is fascinating to me, as i know so little about this country. as a child and youth i was taught by my country that i should hate these people because they were godless heathens and they had "the bomb.") most of my recent reading has concerned the romanov family or the russia created by the abdication of the last romanov tsar - nicholas II. i already knew a bit about nicholas and alexandra; but, i have recently learned much that has begun to flesh out my knowledge of this famous couple.

nicholas was an inept, despotic, detached ruler. he had little interest in the welfare of his people, and was deluded into thinking they would continue to adore him based solely on the facts of his heritage. he was wrong. for over three hundred years the romanovs ruled 1/6th of the planet. the people finally tired of tyranny, and decided to change their world.

i have often said that history is better fiction than actual fiction, and the story of the end of the russian monarchy makes a good case for my theory. here are some good plot points: the end of a 300 year monarchy (that's much longer than the duration of the u.s. as a nation); the miraculous healings performed by a drunk, filthy, peasant, sexual deviant of a "holy man" like rasputin; his prophecy of his murder and its indication of the fate of the whole empire; the fatal congenital affliction of the heir to the throne; religious fanaticism; the abdication of the throne; the imprisonment and brutal murder of the royal family and their most loyal attendants; the misplacement of two of the corpses and the persistent stories of survival; and the utter cruelty and failure of the new government.

another part of the story i find fascinating is the custom of closed marriage by the monarchies of europe. obviously, nicholas was of a royal lineage. his mother was the daughter of the king of denmark. it should be apparent that his father was the tsar of all russia. but, alexandra's family ties were equally imposing. she was the grand-daughter of queen victoria, the neice of king edward VII. she counted as cousins king george V, king george VI, and queen elizabeth II who now rules great britain. king juan carlos was a distant cousin, and kaiser wilhelm was a first cousin. there were uncounted dukes, earls, princes, and kings (along with their female counterparts.) some of these people can be seen in the above photo. i don't know why this fascinates me so, but it does. the photo was taken at the wedding of alexandra's sister on the same weekend that nicholas and alexandra became engaged. this gathering is almost like the '82 tarheels.

i am grateful that these brave people have finally thrown off the chains of the communist dictators. lenin, trotsky, stalin, kruschev et al. took a beautiful culture and turned it into a bleak, dark, paranoid wasteland. as for me, i look forward to learning more about the frozen history of russia. it is wonderful to find a new focus at the bookstore. as always, i will be in the history section- it's just that a whole new geography has been opened to me. lucky me.

Sunday, November 27, 2005

there's a mote in your eye

i have spent the day building a new entertainment center for our house. for some reason women (my wife included) feel the need to constantly shuffle things around the house like a never-ending cake walk of furniture. only, when the music stops, there is no prize waiting for the lucky winner; only another opportunity to scrape your belongings around the room for another 12 hours searching for what ? i can't fathom. My mind doesn't work in this manner. if i am comfortable, i see no reason to attempt to create a new form of the same comfort. sometimes the new thing is no good, so we end up just moving it back from whence it came, and again spinning the wheel of misfortune. please don't ask me what i think of the potential new concept. i don't care. if you want it there, tell me, and i will move it. but as to my opinion - i would have to have one to express one. and i don't. know or care.

between college and beauty school, i worked as a carpenter for about 2 or 2 1/2 years. dale and tom were trim carpenters for doyle wilson homes, and they were nice enough to teach me most of what they know. at least as much as can be taught in the small amount of time they had with me. dale, especially is extremely knowledgeable about all aspects of home-building. we were only hired to complete the trim package; but on occasion, dale would be needed to remedy other - more fundamental- concerns in the construction, and i got to tag along. watching and doing is learning.

building a house is not a simple endeavor, but neither is it the grand mystery i had made it out to be before my hire date. i used to think that any problems in a home would certainly require the services of a 100$ per hour professional. to be sure, electricity can be shockingly complex, and plumbing is not something you just take a crack at; but , alot of the rest is just common sense and knowing how to cover your mistakes with the appropriate kind of mirage. well, that and the nerve to just do it. like most things, i find i just need to get a little information, and a little grit. besides, that big money fix-it guy will always be there. you can call him later if you need.

actually, this new living room space is gonna be quite nice. i am just about done with this thing, and i think i'm pretty pleased. i won't even mention the money we've saved by not having to buy the hilariously over-priced piece from pottery barn. considering the amount of cedar saw dust up my nose, we are all going to live with this thing for a while, anyway, like it or not. my only concern is: i made it with old, recycled, cedar barnwood and our television is pretty heavy. if a loud rumbling noise wakes you in the night, it might be the sound of our television crashing to the floor. or it might be the sound of me steering my car into on-coming traffic as i realize i've got to rearrange the house again.

Friday, November 25, 2005

you say you're full? please!

and now for a little something that comes up every thanksgiving:

about 16 years ago i was living with a guy named scott taylor. i was living as a full -time missionary in phoenix, arizona; and, scott was my companion at the time. the members of the church are kind enough to feed the missionaries and the people of arizona were particularly generous. i don't think i cooked a night-time meal in two years. typically, a family would have us over to their home for a meal and a visit. after a (usually) lovely meal, we would gather in the living room for a few minutes so my companion and i could share with them an inspirational story about sharing the gospel, or we might teach them something from the scriptures. it was a very fair trade. actually, we always came out on the better end of the deal.

one evening, a very nice couple took us out to dinner. we didn't often go out to eat, so this was a great treat. and they were paying? outstanding. the couple were about 40 years old, and without children. this alone made them unique in the lds church. they were also quite overweight. i'm not sure what constitutes obesity; but, they were probably on the verge. this didn't matter to me, but it lends flavor to the story. they took us to king's table. king's table was a phoenix substitute for luby's or furr's - all you can cram down your throat and keep down. well, 20 year-old boys who ride bikes all day long can put away a little bit of food. in those days i could really get my money's worth from any buffet. anyway, scott and i had been gorging ourselves for long enough to require a rest. our hosts were still going strong when we received the best bit of advice our young ears had yet received.

"when you think you are too full to eat any more, go get a small plate of cantaloupe. it packs the rest of the food down in your stomach, so you have more room to go through the buffet again." what beautiful words of wisdom culled from years of the buffet circuit. if anyone needed to go through "just one more time, " it was definitely not either of these two. we did not take their advice.

this story gets resurrected each time we take the opportunity to over-exert ourselves at the dinner table. the best part is that, by now, i am almost never the one to bring it up. i hear reports that the cantaloupe advice has left the confines of our family relations. hopefully my contribution to society will extend beyond this.

for the record, i have never ventured to verify the theory. first of all, a plate of melon is not always available; secondly, it just seems wrong. what if it isn't true? i will have destroyed something that is beautiful to me, and that can't happen.

pain in vain

yesterday was thanksgiving. like everyone else in america, i ate turkey with all the customary accompaniments. i, thankfully did not over-indulge. in the words of ice cube: "i got my grub on, but didn't pig out." nonetheless, today my body is suffering as a result of careless treatment.

every thanksgiving day, i participate in a touch football game. since i don't drive drunk, it's the only way my life resembles that of a kennedy. yesterday was not good. after playing for 30 ,or so minutes; i was informed that i was the oldest person at this year's contest. the dolt who brought that news to light deserved some retribution, but i was too tired to provide any. i did play pretty well, but these kids today don't like to pass the ball to an old guy unless all other options are exhausted. what are you gonna do? i resorted to pushing everyone else out of the way on kick-off returns. hey, i gotta get my touches to reach my incentive goals.

the best part was that jackson went with me. he's never gone before, so yesterday was really fun. he didn't catch anything, but he had a few good runs. on kick-offs, i would get the ball, hand off to him, and push as many people as possible out of j's way. he felt really big, and that's fun to watch. he had a good time (unnecessarily) spitting on the ground and talking junk to anyone who would listen. and i'm talking hard-core, personal stuff like, "nice catch, pinnochio." manhood-stealing stuff like that. he was so cold that he didn't even need to break out any "mama" jokes. he loves to hang out with older boys and feel like a part of the crew. it was a good morning.

today, i am creeping. my hamstrings have been replaced by rebar, and my back is as supple as the face of mount rushmore. the problem is that the second day is always the worst...i can't wait for the morning.

as an aside: i am watching "ocean's twelve" while writing this. it's ok. not as good as it's predecessor, which is not as good as the original. but it is fun to watch. unfortunately i can't help feeling bad for julia roberts while watching this. in this movie she looks old, tired, and average. on the other hand, catherine zeta jones' beauty is painful to behold. by comparison, she makes julia look like me. so much for america's sweetheart.

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

this is it!


one of my best days:

today is the 42nd anniversary of the day john f kennedy was assassinated in dallas. i am fascinated with this event and have been for as long as i can remember. when i was a boy , we often had occasion to go to dallas. it did not matter where in the metroplex we were; neil and i would harass dad to drive through dealey plaza ,until he would- finally- relent and accommodate us. it is a habit i still have. i almost always drive by the plaza, and if time permits, i feel the need to drive through the plaza. i'm not sure what this does for me; but as a lover of history, being at the site of such a seminal event still excites me.

one of these trips was 2 years ago - on the 40th anniversary. i drove up for the day and met neil and melissa at brian's house. after breakfast, we went down to dealey. the plaza was filled with our fellow geeks. even some of the streets were closed, as people were everywhere.

for the assassination-obsessed, the gathering provided the opportunity to see several of the peripheral "celebrities" of the conspiracy canon. we saw beverly oliver -the "babushka lady," the deaf dude who was on the rail-yard overpass, jesse "the body, mind, blowhard" ventura, and some author who i am unable to remember at this time. it really was an event, and it was fun to be in the midst of our fellow enthusiasts. i just referred to myself as an assassination enthusiast. interesting.

we had previously decided that the gathering at the plaza was not only cool and a necessary starting point; but, it was also strictly for amateurs. we wanted to pay homage to the story behind the story;so we had a full day planned, not merely a leisurely morning as was being enjoyed by our dealey plaza-mates. so after an hour or so, we were off.

first stop was the boarding house on zang and beckley. in november of '63, oswald was separated from marina and renting a room from a lady who owned this home. we intended to get out and look around, but the home's owner ( the daughter of oswald's landlady) had just returned from the grocery store; and ,we thought it might be rude to start running around her yard while taking pictures.

so we drove a few blocks to the duplex where marina took the famous pictures of oswald holding the manlicher-carcano used to shoot kennedy (whatever.) a texas monthly article had warned sight-seers not to stop in this neighborhood. like most white people, they turned out to be overly concerned about the activities of brown-skinned people. we got out of the car, and walked around the backyard of this unrented home. we remained unmolested by "gangs" as we took some pictures with the same view marina caught in her famously "doctored" photos. and we're off.

after arriving back at his room following the shooting of jfk, oswald grabbed a pistol and a jacket. he then started walking to our next destination- the intersection of tenth and patton. here, he supposedly shot officer j.d. tippit in an attempt to further his escape. we were surprised to find about 10 other "enthusiasts" walking the streets. when a question went unanswered as to where tippit lay after being shot, several of our new-found friends (read: companion geeks) retired to their cars to retrieve their assassination resource manuals of choice, hoping to find the definitive answer. none was. we left the intersection with a feeling of peace having had our unspoken fear of uber-geekosity justified by the sense of community provided by other nerds on a similar pilgrimage.

no journey like this would be complete without a visit to the texas theater. oswald went here following tippit's murder and was arrested shortly after arrival. the theater is in horrible condition and -though it is the focus of a community renewal plan- it doesn't show any signs of improving any time soon. there were a few older couples outside the door of the theater, but no one could go inside the building.

we were done in dallas, but we had one more stop to make - in fort worth. rose hill cemetery is the site of oswald's grave. his body may, or may not be in the ground there. there are some theories about the body buried there not being that of lee harvey; but, we will never know. i was shocked to see so many people on the grounds. first of all, i figured this would be too obscure to attract the attention of so many; but also, the grave is difficult to locate, and the cemetery keepers will not divulge the location to the curious. it was a fitting place to end a full day of looking back.

the answers to the questions created in november of 1963 will never be answered to our full satisfaction. in thirty (or so) years the federal government is legally bound to release all documents connected to jfk's assassination and all peripheral investigations. this may or may not happen ,as laws are changed or ignored in this country on a daily basis. even if all these records were made available to all the world, i doubt they would clear up much of the confusion and distrust permeating the culture of conspiracy. this is -after all- the definition of conspiracy theorist, we don't want the defining answers to ever be revealed - even if that is possible, at this point. some say the world changed that day, that innocence died and trust in our government disappeared. i can't disagree more. the notion that either of these qualities existed as late as the 20th century is hilarious. we were established as a nation with distrust and cynicism and secrecy and inequality as themes at the foundation of our development. the death of john fitzgerald kennedy, and the subsequent conspiracy by our government to conceal the facts of his death merely perpetuated the common threads of disenchantment and ignorance that seem to define the american public. maybe this is why we still are so infatuated with this story. either way, jackson and i will be in front of the book depository at 12:30 8 years from now - see you then.

Saturday, November 19, 2005

half-breed mexican in the house

my parents were kind enough to watch jackson for a few hours last night. charlotte and i went to see the latest harry potter movie and j-man didn't want to go. in retrospect, i'm glad he didn't. the movie was a little dark, scary, and emotionally taxing for a five year-old. i expected as much. the movie was good, though. go check it out.

in preparation for thanksgiving, jackson's kindergarten class is studying some aspects of american indian traditions. he was showing my mom and dad some of the class work he has done and dad mentioned that he always liked indians and thinks their cultures are really cool. jackson has never been shy about expressing his opinion, so he said, "actually, they are called native americans, grandpa."

it's a good story, but it presents a question to my mind that i have never considered. americans are overly concerned about what terms are employed to designate their respective demographic groups. for example, colored people are no longer colored, nor negroes, nor afro-american, nor black. i believe they may be referred to as african americans or persons of color. i may be wrong, as a new term may have been initiated during the composition of this entry. i don't know what all of this is supposed to mean, or who decides when a new term is needed; but, as a white man i am merely required to comply with the current convention.

it seems as if this ______ american formula is all the rage these days. native american. chinese american. mexican american. iraqi american. you get the idea. it's effective, if not very imaginative. then again, neither are the people who require such specific recognition.

and why are real mexicans called "mexican nationals?" if this is done to acknowledge the individual's mexican citizenship and residence in mexico; should we refer to people of mexican descent born and living in the u.s. as "mexican internationals?" i'm just asking.

so, to my question. let's say i am a person descended from mexican ancestors. my family has lived in (enter any county in the world) for generations. am i referred to as a mexican anglican? or mexican german? or mexican russian? you get the idea. what if the same person was born and raised in america, but then moved - permanently- to london as an adult. is he a mexican american anglican? or is this man referred to as a mexican american national? my face is starting to hurt.

i long for the old days. call people what you like and don't worry too much about what they think. well, maybe not that callous, but this current crap drives me crazy. i mean schizophrenic, bi-polar, demented.

git down from there, boy!

one of our favorite movies over the past couple of years has been "the sandlot". we all love it. jackson's favorite part is when the sandlot team and the little league team are talking junk. we laugh as the two kids call each other pus-lickers and fart-sniffers. jackson used to ask us if we could watch just the part where "those boys say those awesome words." he is well on his way to being an all-star at getting in someone's ear. i guess that's cool; but just in case, don't ask charlotte what she thinks.

after seeing the movie so many times, jackson has decided he needs a treehouse. unless the treehouse is going to be made of nail polish and scrap-booking materials, it will be up to me to build it. so far it coming around really well. it's going pretty slow because i don't do this kind of thing very often , but it is looking really good. if it ever gets finished, i will post a picture.

i have built one treehouse before. growing up, paul was my best friend. we lived on the top of a hill, and he lived at the base. he was my age and he had a brother and a sister the same ages as my siblings. there was a highly defined path criss-crossing the hill as the six of us hiked up and down that hill for 10 years going back and forth between houses.

one day paul and i decided we needed to build a treehouse. who knows whose idea it was, but we didn't have a cool place to hang. we needed privacy, so it couldn't be built too close to either of our homes. i don't even remember where we found any wood, but we did acquire some somewhere along the way. all the wood scraps we had gathered were carted across the creek, over the fence, and down a path to a huge oak tree located on someone else's property. what better place for secrecy than somewhere you aren't meant to be in the first place? our building skills were seriously lacking. i know we pounded some nails into some 2x4's and secured some plywood up there somewhere; but i can't remember anything else happening that would have made the project look like it was built with a specific design in mind. there were no walls, and there obviously was no roof. it was ( pretty much) just a couple of platforms up in a tree that could be used as places for a couple of kids to perch. it seems like i remember putting some old carpet up there to make things more comfortable. if it sounds unimpressive, that's only because it was. at the time, you wouldn't have been able to convince us of any deficiency in its construction- it was just what we needed.

we hung out up there for most of the summer. i think we played cards, read books individually, and looked at illicit magazines all pre-adolescent boys miraculously happen upon. how we ended up having possession of soft-core porn is beyond my thinking, but there it was, nevertheless. we spent a great summer wearing a new path between the river and the treehouse.

and then one day we walked down the path to the treehouse to find that it had been utterly destroyed by several (well placed) shotgun blasts. our sanctuary had been reduced to the treehouse on the river kwai. being from two non-shotgun owning families; paul and i hauled butt out of there ,scared to death. we could just imagine some inbred yokel chasing after us to the sounds of "dueling banjos." no such thing happened, but we never again ventured back to the site of our previous architectural triumph. this is where i stood for over twenty years- until last week.

what is the big deal with treehouses, anyway. the ewoks were stupid and useless, and celeborn and galadriel were overrated. even so, they sure are fun. give me a call sometime and you can come hang in ours...pending jackson's approval, of course.

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

smells like tony robbins



i have been working outside all day long. i am working on a project for jackson, and it is slow going. the weather today was very conducive to spending 8 hours out of doors; and then, a huge cold front blew through around 1, or so, and immediately dropped the temperature 20 degrees. the best part of the front was the 20- 25 mph wind bursts. i love a change in the weather. i prefer 95 degree sunny days, but a change is wonderfully refreshing- if i get my hot days back pretty soon.

well, i finished what i could do today and came in to clean up. after showering i decided to laze on the couch for a bit and watch tv. perfect timing. i turned on the history channel in time to catch the concluding segment of a show about george mallory and andrew irvine. if you aren't familiar with their story, i'll leave that discovery to you. i think you will be interested in their tale, as i find it fascinating. a teaser- on june 6, 1924 , the two of them left their summit camp on mt. everest with every intention of reaching the top of the world. early in the afternoon they were spotted -well on their way -by a fellow member of their team. after this sighting, neither of the pair were ever seen again - until 1999. the above picture is of the two of them moments away from their final climb.

in 1999, a pbs/nova expedition planned and executed a climb of everest with the sole purpose of determining the fate of mallory and irvine and ascertaining the likelihood of their successfully summitting mt. everest. while traversing the north face of the mountain, conrad anker spotted what appeared to be a human leg sticking out of a rock slide. after the whole team was gathered at the site, they discovered that the body mummified there in the ice was , indeed, george mallory. the spot where he was found is usually completely under snow; but due to a period of unusually sparse snowfall, mallory's remains were revealed long enough to testify. they covered his body with stones and allowed him to remain as he fell - face down on the mountain. no evidence of andrew irvine was discovered.

the story of george mallory is allegorical. he was a renowned climber -one of england's finest - but felt he had not yet attained the level of success he desired. he felt that he was lacking; as yet, unfulfilled. at the time of this final attempt at everest he was 38 years old, and felt that his opportunity for immortality was quickly escaping his reach. in a last grasp -perhaps- for glory, he reached beyond the previously known limits of his talent. unfortunately for mallory (successful , or not ,) he lost his life in the attempt. this makes his quest no less valid, in my mind. many of us lose our lives in the search for the greatness within; some figuratively, some literally. the pursuit of self-determined success is the search for truth in each of us. what do you seek?

mallory's camera was never located, and no evidence -one way or the other - was found to determine irvine's and his success at reaching the summit of everest 30 years before sir edmund hillary. i like to think they made it.

Saturday, November 12, 2005

don't want to be an american idiot

it is a sad day when you have to admit you are getting old. i have had several of these over the last few years, and i was lucky enough to have a repeat experience today. my joy is boundless.

i should begin this story by telling you that i love green day. it is not usual for me to be so excited about something so popular, but i can't help myself. i think they are brilliant. i think they could be an amalgam of alot of the music of my high school years. i listened to alot of speed metal (anthrax and pre sell-out metallica) and oingo boingo. in some strange way i see green day as a fusion. don't you see some danny elfman in there? either way, i love green day's music. if you don't, i suggest you pull your head out. give them another try because you're missing it.

i have thought it would be real cool to go to a green day concert and tonight i turned on the tv and found one on. cool. it's like a preview of coming attractions. let me say that it was much like i expected. loud, raucous, and violent. perfect. i remember going to a metallica concert with hunter westbrook in 1985 or 6. it was at some club on 3rd street that a friend of ours got us into. i think it was called 'the world.' in those days their fan base was a dangerous-looking group of leathered and metal-spiked felons, bikers and heroin freaks. oh, and two geeky white kids from wimberley. thinking back, it was a much too dangerous place for two kids like us to go. if jackson ever goes to an event resembling this one i don't even want to know about it until he is back home- safely in bed. anyway, watching this concert on tv tonight was the best way for me to have seen it. these kids were doing things with and to their bodies that i am no longer interested in attempting. what screams "old man" louder than throwing out your back in the middle of a mosh pit? ladies and gentlemen, elvis has left the building.

i'm really not that old. on a good day, i still am able to exhibit moderate skills. these good days are just getting fewer and farther in between. perhaps the secret to growing old gracefully is found in cultivating and displaying new skills previously unknown.

Thursday, November 10, 2005

my 2005 theses

today is the birthday of martin luther. just to clarify - he was not a civil rights leader in the 50's and 60's.

several years ago, i went to see a movie named "luther." joseph fiennes played the role of martin luther. i guess they figured more people would come see the movie if the star was a great looking young man instead of seeking an actor who actually looked like martin luther. they figured wrong ; it was an art film so no one went to see it ,anyway. when i went , the theater was holding a couple of groups of older women's church groups and me. as usual, i felt out of place. it turned out fine because the movie was really well done, and it told much of the story of martin luther's life in vivid language and scenery.

martin luther was an amazing man. his reliance on, and complete trust in scripture is remarkable, his courage unbelievable. he was a monk with a lifetime of service to God and the catholic church in store for him, when he came to be at odds with many nonscripture-based practices of the church. he posted his 95 theses in hopes of sparking discourse and reform - not dissent and Reformation. his acts were the catalyst that resulted in the reformation and all protestant churches are historically linked to him. in response to the church's demand that he retract his statements and return to his life of subordination and submission, he politely declined to acquiesce to their demands. doing so was not only a sure way to lose his career as a priest (he did) it was a very dangerous busstop on the road to death. the church wasn't just the religious center of the world, it was the political tyrant of europe as well. his acts were those of a blasphemer. he risked certain death by defying the pope, yet he did just that rather than deny what he knew to be true. these are his words to the holy roman emperor, charles v:

"Unless I am convinced by the testimony of the Scriptures or by clear reason (for I do not trust either in the pope or in councils alone, since it is well known that they have often erred and contradicted themselves), I am bound by the Scriptures I have quoted and my conscience is captive to the word of God. I cannot and I will not retract anything, since it is neither safe nor right to go against conscience."

my church is not protestant. i vehemently disagree with some of the teachings martin luther espoused. i read scripture differently than he. nonetheless, i find him a real heroic figure in the history of the world, and a torchbearer in leading the world out of the spiritual black hole that was the dark ages.

thank you, martin.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

walking through the past

today i spent some time in the wimberley cemetery. we own a plot there and i go check on it from time to time. for some reason, i always find something valuable in a cemetery.

i think it has only been a month since my last visit; but, things are different in wimberley. the dirt road that bisects the cemetery has been upgraded. the roadway has been lined with railroad ties and the space between filled with crushed granite. it makes for a fine road and looks great. thanks.

there is a new grave near ours. a little boy named joshua has died recently. he was 6. i don't have any idea who this boy is or why he died; but, as i stared at the place where his little body is waiting, i couldn't help but think about my own little boy. he is almost 6. it took a while to compose myself. this is the one reason i don't like cemeteries.

our site looked fine enough so i did some wandering. for a while now i have been looking for the gravesite of john hill. i have mentioned him before. he is the earliest ancestor of mine i know to have moved to texas. in the late 1850's he moved to the wimberley area and started farming. i have made perfunctory searches for his and his wife's markers in the past, but i was determined to find them today. i have seen a picture of the gravestones before, so i decided to start looking for shapes. not the best procedure, i'm sure, but it was a starting point. today was my lucky day. as i was walking around, i was looking at most of the older stones (that i knew were not the ones i was seeking) just checking names. i also noted that there were a good number of confederate battle flags posted near the headstones of many of the older graves. well, i like to think i'm not that thick, so i found a new searching medium. it wasn't 5 minutes before i spotted john and mary hill side by side. their gravesites were "entombed" in stone- almost like a sarcophagus. i think these are the only two in the cemetery, so it is curious to me. john's is sinking a bit in the middle, but that seems to add to the character. their position in the cemetery is a testament to their early arrival in the area. the hill's next-door neighbors are mr. and mrs. pleasant wimberley. i guess that's pretty cool.

there is something alluring about seeking one's past. i should say progenitors. genealogy is a booming business all around the world, and historical societies are found in every city and every country. the link from their lives to mine is as short as it seems long. something about them ties me to this place. that i can walk and swim where they once did the same brings a kind of peace to me. it is hard to explain, even to myself. i guess i will keep searching for their lives in mine until i can hear their stories resonate in my ears. oh, i'll never leave hays county, brother.

under the trees and into the night

i had a really great evening on saturday and would like to tell you about it.

i got home from work a little later than i had expected. we had been planning to go to austin to view a chalk art festival at central market, so i felt stress at being late. the hour made little difference as charlotte was in the process of being destroyed by a cold, so she wasn't going anywhere, anyway. my brother neil was in town, so he, jackson, and i hopped in the car and off we went. it was a beautiful day and the drive was cheery. we listened to the end of the texas/baylor game wherein the 'horns shamed the bears. good deal. after the game, we listened to a post game analysis by a friend of mine and his broadcast partner. va tech got crushed by miami, and ucla did the same against arizona. 4 o'clock and all's well.

by the time we got to the art show the hour was late. some of the artists had already packed their work and departed. well, enough of the artists were taking their time as to allow us a pretty nice (if quick) look about. being inartistic, i am always amazed at what can come forth out of the minds of a creator.

there is a big playscape at central market, and jackson headed straight for it. we watched him play for a while while we waited for the band to arrive. charlotte's brother drew plays the drums for a woman named susan gibson. while her music is not exactly my cup of tea, she is really talented and very nice. she plays some kind of folk/country/troubadour hybrid music. playing the bass for susan that night was a friend of drew's named sterling. i've known him since he was in elementary school. his father owns cheatham street warehouse in san marcos and i like him. as usual, he appeared to have bathed sometime last month and gotten his lunch from a bottle; but, he's a neat kid, and i liked seeing him there.

jackson made occasional appearances at our table throughout the night. even a five-year-old needs a drink every now and then. he would stay for about 15 seconds and then run off to play some more with the friends from school he happened to find there, and the new friends he was making. i think he went full-on for 3 hours. that's awesome.

the band was good, i spent a long time talking with my little brother, and jackson was absolutely wasted when we got to the car. i loved going to support drew. our lifestyle is so "early to bed- early to rise" that we don't often get to see him play, so i'm thankful for the opportunities we do get.

sadly enough, this is what qualifies as a great day in my life. this is all it takes; but... it works for me.

Monday, November 07, 2005

gay k k

this whole thing needs to be prefaced with the understanding that everything spewed forth from the mouths of bigots like the ku klux klan is repugnant to me. if they want to do something useful, i would prefer they go home to their trailer parks, resume their lives of rampant incest, and produce the next generation of side-show attractions so the rest of us will have something fun to do when the carnies roll into town.

last saturday a group of klansmen ventured into austin to hold a rally voicing their support for the proposed constitutional amendment defining marriage in texas in a traditional way; and in effect, barring so-called same-sex marriage from our state. o.k. that is their right. they are american citizens, taxpayers, and they proceeded through the appointed bureaucratic channels to receive the required permits. a piece of city-owned property was reserved for them to perform their constitutionally protected right to peacefully gather. so far, so good.

a veritable storm of flying feces erupted when news of the approaching rally hit the streets. free thinking liberals all over travis county were up in (figurative, of course) arms. "how can this be allowed to happen in this, our bastion of tolerance?" ,went the cry. they collectively decided to stage a protest. the city approved an additional site for the protesters and appointed a section of public roadway-adjacent to the rally site- for the protesters to use for their purposes. if one is to believe the reporting of the austin american statesman -always a risky venture-there were 14 bigoted klansmen at the rally and 3000+/- protesters protesting their presence. this i don't understand. are the klan repulsive? yes. do they spread a message if hate and intolerance? yes. should their ideology be confounded at all possible opportunities? obviously. but, let us imagine that no one paid any attention to them. not one person gave them the time of day, no matter their rally site, message, or numbers. their lack of publicity would be refreshing. their visiblity would be minimal. their recruiting ability would be crippled. contrast that with what really happened. thousands of people spent their day screaming, feeling anger, and attempting to prevent a group of americans from exercising the rights afforded them by our founding fathers and guaranteed by every soldier who has died in defense of this country.

a local civil-rights coalition has filed a suit against the city of austin claiming that THEIR civil rights were violated because they were restricted in their proximity to the klansmen. according to one of their spokesmen, he is upset because he wasn't allowed to get close enough to any of these people to "confront " him. surely he isn't insinuating that physical or verbal violence would have been appropriate, is he? will someone please remind me which group is the one representing intolerance?

icky - poo!

i am fortunate enough that on mondays i get to read to jackson's class immediately before their rest time. he is in kindergarten and he appears to still enjoy having me around him while his friends are present. there is no adequate formula for predicting the duration of this temporary phenomenon, so i will just enjoy it while it lasts.

last week i read a couple of books about spiders. to be accurate, one was about all manner of arachnids; but, the other was one of my earliest remembered stories from my childhood - "be nice to spiders." if you've never read it - check it out. it's an easy reader in the children's section. the gist of the story should be abundantly obvious.

one of the women i work with is horribly frightened of spiders. the smallest, most innocuous spider will send her into the kind of non-sensical pandemonium that i normally reserve for air travel. she hurriedly leaves the room, yells for me to "get over here, quick", and won't return until the offender is disposed of and guaranteed to have been quite alone. spiders don't frighten me, and i get to be the nice guy. i hope karen doesn't mind that i release the spider into the "wild" instead of killing it, as i believe she would prefer.

back to jackson's class. in preparation for reading time, jackson and uncle neil caught a spider in the yard. it was certainly big enough to send karen into a full-bore conniption. they also included a few grasshoppers to keep the spider well fed. the kids enjoyed the stories well enough; but they really dug the spider, especially since he was eating one of the grasshoppers at the time he was in the classroom.

this week, the class is studying worms. his assignment tonight was to dig up some worms and bring a couple of them to school. we dug and dug, but couldn't find a thing. thank goodness for wal-mart. it seems so weird, as we always find worms in our dirt when planting flowers or seeds. i wonder what happened to them. maybe they went south for the winter.

i have not always been so courageous with bugs and slugs. to tell the truth, they gross me out most of the time. things changed, though, as they always do. i remember a boy scout camp i went to several years ago. nelson riley (an entomologist friend of mine) taught a class on bugs. since he knew what he was doing, he could find more bugs in a ten-foot radius than i would locate in a whole afternoon of searching. he found almost 2 dozen kinds of bugs that day, and let each of them crawl all over his hands and arms - well, the scorpion was afforded less freedom. after teaching us about each species, he was very careful to return the little critter back to the place it was found - with as little molestation as possible. that day he taught me that a bug may look gross to some, but it will generally be harmless to humans, and will probably do some useful thing to enhance the environment in which i reside. i'll take his word for it.

a bug is not usually a big deal. charlotte doesn't want them in the house, but neither does she want them killed. i think this dogma is invalid when applied to wasps, scorpions, and roaches. other than these, we say "live and let live." now, about those fire ants.

bonus section:

if you have a fly buzzing around and causing annoyance, give me a call. i can catch him with my hand 9 times out of 10. they are cool to watch if you first shake him up in your hand like dice, and then throw him on the ground. if he survives the impact, he'll fly around "drunk" for a little while.

Thursday, November 03, 2005

king of the beach

fame is intriguing to me. well, maybe not fame itself, but , more the fascination non-famous people have with the famous. i am constantly hearing stories of someone who saw sandra bullock, or sat next to tommy lee jones at dinner, or walked past owen wilson at the airport. generally speaking- i couldn't care less. when i see an adult waiting for an autograph, it makes me shake my head in derision. what in the world is that guy's handwriting going to do for you? it is beyond my comprehension.

one year at disney world, we went to a luau at the polynesian resort. as we were waiting for the appointed time to enter the facility, charlotte decided to leave the line and go look through the shops. i tend to think that the only time she is truly at peace is when she is in the process of buying something. as she is walking back to the place i have been saving in the line, she walks past the biggest man she has ever seen. i do not exaggerate when i say that her 5' 2" frame surpassed the height of this man's butt by only a foot or so. as she arrived back in my presence- her face filled with astonishment- she asked," did you see that guy?" "what? that 7' 2" black man who is taking up the whole room with his size? no, must've missed him." she told me that he is so tall, he should play professional basketball. i tried to keep condescension at bay as i explained that "that guy" was artis gilmore- the second leading scorer in the history of the aba. behind only dr j , himself. she told me to go get his autograph, and i, naturally refused. she said," he'll probably be excited to find that someone knows who he is." goodness.

the famous have not impressed me with much of anything. neil and i recently had a discussion about heroes. i said that i didn't think anyone famous was worthy of that title; but i may have misspoken. hero is a very vigorous word that may be inappropriate. besides, who has a "hero" after the age of 12? let's say i was just reminded of a man who is so accomplished professionally and personally to be deserving of my highest level of admiration.

i turned on the tv tonight and found that the nebraska women's volleyball team was playing on cstv. they are incidental. i merely love watching volleyball. when i was in high school and college, i used to play alot of volleyball. i was probably better at it than at any other sport i ever played. i love volleyball, still. the sad thing about this sport is that it is not a readily available activity. i can play golf or hoop almost anytime of the day with little effort. volleyball is different. not only is it very difficult to play by one's self, most people don't have the first clue how to play; so if one does know how to play, one might instead elect never to play again rather than suffer through that thing played at picnics and reunions. well, the match wasn't on tv. it had been replaced by a one hour interview with karch kiraly.

karch kiraly is the best player ever to step onto a volleyball court, or into a sand pit. his family emigrated to california from hungary in the 50's. he learned the sport at the feet of his father. at 44 years old, he has won every single volleyball related award available - most of them on multiple occasions. think michael jordan with a higher and more sustained level of dominance. he is that good. last year (43 years old) he and his playing partner were named players of the year on the pro beach tour - chosen over men less than half his age. also last year, michael was the most competitive guy in his golf foursome.

the remarkable thing about karch is his humility. his home is virtually free of tokens that would inform one as to his profession. he says his home is meant for his family, not as a shrine to himself. so he secrets away his national player of the year awards and national championship trophies (all three of them.) his international player of the year awards, three olympic gold medals, world championship medals and tour player of the year trophies are not set out for display. he is gracious. he is generous. and he is above reproach. he doesn't lose his temper, cheat, or EVER become suspect in any scandal. he is as impeccably amiable in defeat as he is in victory. he is an amazing man worthy of my respect.

karch's given name is charles. karch is a hungarian nickname. when my wife was pregnant with my son, charles was the second of our two choices. her father charles had recently been diagnosed with cancer and we seriously considered naming our son for him. we both think so highly of karch kiraly, that we were going to name our son charles and call him karch. about 5 hours after the birth, we finally decided on jackson; but, on the off-chance that we ever have another son you can be sure of his name.

be that as it may, i would never inconvenience karch, nor embarrass myself by asking him to write his name on paper for me. i've seen him in person 5 times, and that is more than enough to preserve him in my memory. maybe that's all a hero is anyway - memories morphed into legend.

square peg

i went with some friends to cabella's last night. if you are uninformed, please allow me to illuminate. cabella's is a grotesquely enormous hunting and fishing retailer in buda. i can't imagine many things less appealing to me than the pursuit either of these endeavors.

i have fished several times in my life. i am absolutely without patience, knowledge or aptitude. i'm the ignorant fool that shows up with a can of worms. a red one. hill's brother's. i once went fishing with two very nice men for whom i used to work. we went on a chartered trip on lake buchanan and fished for striped bass. we each caught our limit, and charlotte and i ate the most wonderfully fresh meal that night. the guides did EVERYTHING. put us on the fish, removed fish from our lines, cleaned and wrapped the fish. all i had to do was eat. that doesn't keep me from pretending i will fish one day. i even own a rod and reel ; but, let's be honest...it will never happen.

i never have spent a shell of any sort in the direction of a live animal. as i recall the story: my dad went out with his dad and grandfather when he was an adolescent. it was dad's first time hunting, and someone shot a deer. it may have been dad for all i know. if not, it should have been. the story tells better that way. regardless, the three of them chased over to the spot where the deer had fallen, and discovered the deer still struggling for breath. apparently my great grand-father killed the deer as it inhaled air and exhaled blood. it was not the kind of scene that lends itself to a return engagement. it affected dad in such a way as to prevent his ever hunting for anything again. he never taught me, and i never cared to learn on my own. interestingly, i write this without the slightest iota of regret.

living in hays county, texas, i am invited many times each year to accompany someone on a hunting trip. deer, dove, quail - it doesn't matter, i can never convince myself to go. the idea interests me, and the concept of filling our freezer with fresh meat intrigues me; but, i think if one hasn't attempted a venture like this by his 36th year, it may be too late. at least it is for me. it's not that i don't know how to shoot a firearm, i've done that a sufficient number of times to be proficient enough. it's not that i don't care for the meat. i've eaten enough game to know i really like it. the problem is that i don't want to look into the face of one of god's creation that i have just killed. i don't have the constitution for that.

i guess i'll have to be content with receiving meat in the way nature intended- wrapped in butcher paper, fresh from the local butcher.

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

dia de los muertos

my father is the resident eulogizer of our clan. well, of our community altogether. i can't tell you how many funerals i have been to in the past 25 years, and my father has spoken at well over half of them. the reasons are many. i guess the first is that he is good at it and he always says "yes." he knows everyone and he is able to project genuinely when relating tales of a friend's life. he is wise and is able to reassure others in words of peace and confidence. it is also worthy of note that he almost never gets emotional enough to lose control of his feelings. that may not be accurate. let me say that he is possessed with an uncanny ability to control his emotions when others are displaying theirs on their sleeves, collars, shirt fronts, et al.

only once can i remember him showing obvious emotional loss at a funeral. it was when he was speaking at the funeral of my uncle rick. i believe today would have been uncle rick's 57th birthday. i'm sure of the birthday, not as sure of the birth year. dad is the oldest child and rick his junior by 2 years. when he spoke of his little brother and their growing up as best friends, he needed a minute to compose himself. i've never seen that happen since. as we lived 1000 miles away from him, i never knew him as well as i should liked to have. insert regret. but, we did spend some time together, and i remember a very cool, extremely kind and generous man. uncle rick was an alcoholic. i understand he lived a rough life for a long time, drinking, smoking, divorcing, and partying to excess. he found a wonderful woman to marry and they found religion. for the last years of his life, he was sober and happy. the problem was that the alcohol had done so much damage to his body that it was unable to recover. he died from complications resulting from alcohol abuse.

the other time i can remember my dad becoming overwhelmed, he was talking to me about my grandfather. grandpa died when i was 12. (he was a wonderful guy. he reminds me of a cross between archie bunker and ralph kramden. in a good way. he loved football, john wayne, and lots of greasy, fatty food. he died of a heart- attack. i think he was 53.) on the day in question dad was telling me stories of his childhood. he said grandpa was a loving, caring father. he has wonderful memories of his childhood; but, grandpa was often drunk, as he was an alcoholic.

i am a teetotaler. my religion prohibits alcoholic consumption. and, alcoholism runs in my family. don't misunderstand...i have had my share of alcohol in my day. usually in excess, and always illegally (under-age.) i haven't drunk alcohol in almost 20 years, and on a day like today- with the memories it's brung- i remember the reasons why.


hey, blinkin'



i think i have previously stated the fact that i think most people are pretty ignorant. the beautiful part is that ,i too , am an ignorant fool; and, like everyone else, i think i alone hold the key to wisdom. a perfect circle of give and take...with idiocy being the widget. a case in point:

recently, the discovery channel produced a series wherein the voting public would select the "greatest american" from a list of 100 compiled by (presumably) scholars. the people of america didn't utterly fail, but i do have some issues with their choices. their top 5: 5. benjamin franklin 4. martin luther king jr. 3. george washington 2. abraham lincoln 1. ronald reagan. to prove their stupidity, they placed dubya at 6 and slick willie at 7....of all time. but, back to # 1

ronald reagan? are you "pooping" me? much good resulted from his administration, sure; but, alot of ill emanated from dc in those days also. and , i'm sorry , you testified on the behalf of huac and named names. you are officially out of contention for #1 based on that information alone. ben franklin? what a guy. not a bad choice, but he wasn't smart enough to refrain from trying to get struck by lightning. not too swift. reverend king. too limited in his scope of view, in my opinion. i need someone who was the greatest for ALL americans. it can be argued (effectively) that all of america IS better for his efforts in defeating state-sponsored racism; but, i don't believe that his work was done with the benefits of white america in mind. oh, yeah! i almost forgot adultery and hypocrisy. as i think of it, that kicks you out of my top 5. george washington is wonderful. a more worthy man would be hard to find. his view of slavery was ahead of its time, but he didn't free his slaves until after his death- when he could no longer benefit from their indenturedness. a flaw too vivid to ignore. but still a strong #2 in my book. which bring us to:

abraham lincoln. in my book, the greatest, most magnanimous, wise and effective person this country has ever produced. i have been fascinated by him for all of my life. it began as a morbid fascination with his assassination and the events surrounding his tragic death. as i learned of his life, i came to realize the depth of his greatness. the comparison of pictures of him in 1860 and 1865 appear to be taken 30 years apart. it shows the obvious toll the travails of his presidential tenure wrought upon his mind and body. he saved america from destroying itself. his plan was to save the south from the vengeance of the north. he (finally, after 400 years) was the one who affected the end of slavery in this country. his vision of his duty as an american and a president are beyond reproach. i can't recall any scandal or impropriety that would taint my view of him. well, maybe that habeas corpus thing in maryland. but that was so ballsy, i can forgive him easily. i'm not saying he never made a bad decision, i'm just saying i've never discovered a flaw in his character. that's amazing.

i am enamored with the address he gave at gettysburg on nov 19, 1863. i view it -as do many others- as the superlative piece of prose produced on this continent. its simplicity and directness stir our hearts as he glories in these men who died in the name of freedom and equity, and as he defines the principles for which these great men (from both armies) so willingly risked -and lost- their lives. to steal a line from another great writer: i delight in its plainness and simplicity.

it's so beautiful that i have included the text for your perusal. last night i bought a book entitled "lincoln's greatest speech.. the second inaugural." i can tell you it will take alot to convince me. we'll see.


Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that the nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate -- we can not consecrate -- we can not hallow -- this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.