the strange but predictable consequence

Boy, I got vision, and the rest of the world wears bifocals - an unfinished thought

2011-01-14T20:57:00.007-06:00

the older i get - and these days the rate of acceleration becomes alarming - the more i come to find truths that eluded me in my youth.

gadriel once told frodo that to be a ring bearer is to be alone. i have no rings to bear, yet i can see that to be in this world is to be alone.

i suppose it only natural for us to be occupied with self-interest. those who would give themselves to you will eventually look inward and realize that they no longer have the time or interest once professed. it is nearly invariable. though intentions may be true, the nature of man is one of narcissism.

in times of discouragement, i look to my books and movies. time worn characters who have remained favorites. they never change. their stories never alter, and their passions do not wane. when my world becomes solitary and fruitless, i turn to them and find a smile.

thank you writers for giving some cheer.

well - books, movies, and my dog.

paddling down the home river

2010-03-14T15:14:00.004-05:00

a broken heart and a contrite spirit

2010-02-05T15:23:00.006-06:00

i am of the opinion that good things always happen to me. while mentally knocking on wood, i will tell you that "nothing bad ever happens to me" by oingo boingo has ever been a type of a theme song for me. clearly, things have disappointed me in the past (usually caused by my own efforts,) but i have rarely been so affected by an event as to cause true anguish. i am currently in a state of anguish.

i should also preface by sharing one of my favorite quotations. it comes from a journalist named jenkins lloyd jones, by way of gordon b. hinckley. it goes as follows:

"anyone who imagines that life is bliss will waste a whole lot of time running around shouting that he has been robbed.

the fact is that most putts don't drop...most beef is tough...most children grow up to be ordinary people...most successful marriages require a high degree of mutual toleration...most jobs are more often dull than otherwise.

life is like an old time rail journey-delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders, and jolts; interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed.

the trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride."

i have a face full of cinders.

last sunday i was released from my calling in the bishopric. i knew that i had an appointment scheduled with the stake president, so i wasn't surprised when he did release me. on the other hand, i was overly disappointed when told the reason for the release.

earlier that same morning, bishop currit read me a letter detailing how ward boundaries in the stake were being realigned to more closely mirror school district attendance zones where possible. as soon as he read the word "school," i knew that my life was being upended.

this was surely the worst news i have received in a very long time. for over 30 years, my wife and i have been members of the san marcos ward. like all others who have ever been compelled to begin attending new congregations, we have very close friends that we can not imagine seeing on a less-than-once-a-week basis. as a whole, the masseys are very upset. in an effort to refrain from disparaging the ward we will soon attend, i will only say that over the years i have disagreed with a great many things that have emanated from the kyle ward.

when i got home, we decided to -over lunch- discuss the positives of this change. i'm sure we came up with a couple. i do know that each of us already know someone active in this ward. we will not being walking in cold. that is a good thing. i'm not sure what else qualifies as "good." i'm sure they will teach true doctrine, so that will be helpful. as long as no one wants to steal any of MY books, we should be fine.

the way i see it, every now and then we all have to take a beating.

must be my turn.

green, green...or abort, abort.

2010-01-15T21:44:00.015-06:00

once again we have returned from big bend national park. i would not consider this place as an obsession; but, what began innocently enough 5 years ago has turned into an at-least-once-a-year necessity.

last december (while in the park) i started the planning for december 2009. i wanted to hike some little travelled trails and visit some areas of the western and southern park that i had never seen. once arriving home, i immediately downloaded topos and started memorizing google earth. this lasted for a full year.

finally on the 28th of december we arrived at panther junction. dad, j, bishop currit and i met neil- who had driven to big bend by himself. we again spent way too much time explaining and justifying our plans to a kid (disguised as a ranger) who seemed to have known a little less about this area of the park than we did. not impressive. why does this need to happen every single time? if i describe areas of the park to you with which you are not even familiar, this doesn't necessarily qualify me as an expert hiker; but , hows about you give me a little credit and benefit of the doubt. whatever. eventually he gave us some papers and we hit the road.

after dropping a car at the mule ears overlook, we finally get to the trail. the sun was getting low in the sky and we figured we had little over an hour to make some progress. my pack was HEAVY. water was going to be an unknown factor on this hike and i assume we all overloaded on the cautious side. i definitely overdid it.

we found a good place to set our camp for the night. beyond my objections, charlotte had made me bring a tent. i ended up carrying a 4 man tent that weighed way too much for a backpacking trip. don't tell her, but it came in pretty handy as all but nate ended up in the tent for the first night. around 11, a storm blew in from over the chisos and brought near-freezing rain with it. that little tent was strained to its limits as the wind blew it back and forth through the night. the rain never became too strong, but it was persistent. as with all old tents, touching the walls that were wet on the exterior broke the water resistance and allowed seeping. the wind blew the tent into us from every direction creating possibilities for maximum seep. just what i needed in 34 degree weather. we all got pretty wet.

by the time the sun came up we had decided that wet and cold and 22 miles of hiking did not make a wise triumvirate. the weather was meant to get a little colder over the next couple of days and the forecast called for the rain to continue throughout the rest of the day and into the night. we felt that the possibility of real danger was too actual and we hiked back out to find a different plan.

i was definitely disappointed but i knew it to be the right decision. the desert is not going anywhere. well, technically it is, but not fast enough to prevent me from returning to do what i had planned.

we ended up driving up to the basin for a good meal in the restaurant. we also planned on finding a dryer to improve the condition of some of our equipment that was wet. we had luck with the restaurant but not the dryer. the one dryer in the basin was being used, so we drove down to rio grande village with hopes of better luck. we found it.

we spent about an hour drying our things and eating ice cream bars before we decided we were ready to find some adventure. we headed out the river road west on our way to the mariscal mine. the road was a lot less rough than i had expected, having never been on it. it is always amazing to me how rugged the landscape of the bend can be and how remote and isolated one can feel when creeping across the wideness of the desert wasteland. i was intrigued to look across the desert into the little village of santa elena sparkling in the sunlight shining on mexico. out in the middle of absolutely nothing - what in the world do the people do there to survive? now that we are no longer legally allowed to cross back and forth over park boundaries, i wonder where their money is found.

after a very long desert drive, we could just make out the mine on a hillside in the distance. how out of place does it look? multi-storied and many-roomed, the mine erupts out of absolute emptiness to stand watch over nothing at all. we crawled over its remains and peered into the depths of its bowels wondering what life might have held for those living in the crumbled ruins surrounding the area. rough indeed. the views of elephant tusk and the southern quemada were delightful.

we slowly made our way back to the main road and found our way onto the old ore road and our night's destination of candellia. out in the middle of more, but different nothing, candellia made for a pretty good rest stop. i had given up on the tent and the sky looked clear enough, so we placed our bags out on a tarp on the ground. after watching the stars for a good long time, and just before falling asleep; i decided to place my large tarp nearby just in case a sprinkle of rain reappeared in the night. thank goodness. no sooner did i fall asleep than i was awakened by a too-familiar feeling of rain falling lightly on my face. i covered us pretty well, and woke numerous times in the night to reposition the plastic; but we still woke up very wet. i can only assume that the imperviousness of the plastic coupled with the great temperature disparity above and under the tarp caused condensation in the first degree. i wasn't pleased since we were wet again. oh well.

breakfast, tooth paste and a fresh coat of deo brought me around and we packed up on our way to ernst tinaja. again, a new site for me that i have coveted for some time. it did not disappoint. the geological formations are crazy and the canyon was fun to hike. i don't remember anyone mentioning pictographs in the area, so i'm not sure if what we found was legitimate or not; but, we had fun looking anyway. we hiked up a good ways past the tinaja itself and saw some seeping pour-offs that satisfied. what a beautiful place.

the hot springs was a great lunch spot. we laid out all of our wet gear on top of the car while we ate our lunch up at the ruins above the parking lot. this relaxing lunch followed a trip to the bath house itself. it was great to sit in the shade for a bit even though, due to our filth, we surely reminded one of fagan's light-handed pick-pockets. as always, the bath house was inviting at first but soon filled with too many people to allow me to remain. my whole purpose in visiting big bend is to avoid contact with other people, so how can i be expected to sit in hot water two feet from 20 others? instead, we followed the trail up to the langford's homestead. again, i had never been up there. the view was awesome as it overlooked the river from a bluff directly over the springs.

we made our way down the ross maxwell scenic drive headed to castolon. neil, j, and i walked into the store to gain directions to the cemetery somewhere behind the store. i had heard tale of it, so i knew it existed. i just wasn't sure exactly where to find the trail. our conversation went something like this:

me - "we are gonna hike out to the cemetery. does the trail begin behind the left or right side of the store?"

bureaucratic bullcrapper - "cemetery?!" with a look on his face as if i had asked him to identify db cooper.

me - "yeah. the one behind the store. i just don't remember where the trail begins and i thought you could help us save the time of looking for it."

bureaucratic liar - after a good long pause including scratching of beard "oh yeah, that cemetery. i went there once but i don't think there is a trail out to it. it's been a long time."

me - "ok. well we'll just go find it on our own. thanks anyway."

of course we found the trail on the left side of the barn and followed it a half mile or so through a wash and up onto a plain north of the store. i was surprised to count around 70 grave sites and alarmed to see how many of them were clearly built for children or adolescents. in its lonely and decrepit way, it became one of my favorite places in the park.

we arrived at the terlingua abajo campsites just a little before dusk. i raised my tent with the intent of allowing it to dry in the night. the sky was cloudless and i intended to spend my last night unencumbered by any view obstruction. again, a tarp on the ground would make a fine pallet and j and i arranged our bags and pillows. we all sat together and chatted while we cooked our dinner. some kind of tiny desert rat with a very long tail has gotten very used to human visitors and their propensity for dropping food scraps on the ground. he displayed very little fear as he ran in and out of our circle sniffing and searching. of course jackson was highly alarmed and more than worried about the mouse eating his face while we were sleeping. i used all my powers and all my skills to assure him that the mouse wanted food, not flesh.

i awoke a few times in the night because the moon was full and as bright as it could be. that night was the coldest night of the trip and we awoke to frost on our things. apparently there was more than enough humidity in the air to produce a lot of dew. again we were wet. i felt like a total greenhorn and repeatedly referred to myself as such.

jackson woke at 7 and told me he needed to poop. i told him i would get the trowel for him and dig him a hole and he let me know that he didn't like my idea. 'can't you just drive me to castolon and use the bathroom there?' rather than mess with a hassle in the freezing morning air, i secured dad's keys and we headed out for santa elena. i knew it to be closer than castolon and i knew that no one would be there. the drive was nice as the sun was rising and shining off the cliffs of the canyon wall.

we arrived at the bathroom and jackson took care of his business. in point of fact, these restrooms were extremely clean. we quickly made our way back to the turn off to old maverick road. it is not very far to this junction, so we were not driving long when we saw an animal crossing the road. it was a good bit off in the distance and in the shadows; because of its relatively small size, i quickly assumed it was a javelina. the problem was that it was a really big javelina. as i realized i was wrong in my deduction, the animal lifted his very long mountain lion tail off the ground and identified himself. surely he had heard us long before and now realized we were coming fast enough that he needed to reverse direction and retrace his path back across the road. we never were close enough to see him really well; and, as the sun was rising behind him, we really only got a silhouette. not much of a first mountain lion sighting, but technically it does count. bully for us.

arriving back at camp, we found it empty. i knew the rest of our party had crossed the creek to visit the ruins and cemetery of the former town of terlingua abajo. jackson and i followed their path and walked directly towards the glowing face of mesa de anguilla. the ruins of the old village are really cool to wander. little bits of civilization still remain. tin cans and implements are strewn about lying right next to bits of broken dishes. broken bottles catch the morning sun and point the way to fire rings and rock piles. some of the graves there are still maintained and decorated by some faithful descendant. it was my second time in the ruins and it did not fail to impress.

we had made plans to leave fairly early in the day in order to make it home before midnight. it was decided that a trip over the santa elena canyon trail would be a final parting shot that would leave a best lasting impression. following last year's major flooding, the trail to the canyon is very different. it is much more direct and easier access for many more people who may not have enjoyed scaling the mud wall on the previous route. we hiked to the point where the trail dead ends into a rock wall hundreds of feet tall and further passage becomes impossible. we were running late and quickly made our way back to the cars. a final glance back and a farewell were all that was left.

we drove out of the park on the slow, wash board path of the old maverick road. a 2 minute visit to luna's jacal ended all of our sight seeing for this trip and we slowly exited the park. i did notice that some of the ocotillo were still in bloom, and searched for red blooms the whole way to the park entrance. hearing of the ocotillo flower for many years, i had never seen them before.

though i enjoyed our adventure exceedingly, i still fell a lingering lack of satisfaction for having been unable to complete our planned hike. who knows what the near future holds? i hope to drag myself out there sometime this spring and dig that rascal up.

i'm young. i know how to have fun.

2009-06-26T10:56:00.010-05:00

after several years of my disappointment, jackson finally decided he wanted to play baseball this year. i have never pressured him, but did ask each year if he wanted to join a league. this year, i didn't have to ask - he came to us. the differing factor this time was the fact that several of his friends play and he always wants to be with the boys.

after little consideration, we signed him up to play in manchaca. most all of his baseball-playing friends play in manchaca. there are a couple who play select baseball, but that isn't something that will be happening in our family.

jackson was required to try out. each boy got three pitches to swing at...jman fouled off two and missed one. he got his glove and went to short where he got three grounders hit to him - one straight on, one to the left and one to the right. he picked them all up and threw them to first. i think one throw was high. he finished his tryout by getting three fly balls hit to him as he waited in left field. i think he missed one of them. all in all i was super impressed with him and he did just as well as the
majority of the boys.

jackson got chosen by the yankees. he was very pleased that he got yankee gear to wear and that two of the boys on the team were already friends of his. i was pleased that his coaches turned out to be guys who were really good with the boys and pretty knowledgeable about the game. jackson had a great time.

unfortunately, the yanks rarely kept a good game going into the last inning. they were highly competitive but only strung together 4 wins. one of those resulted in the only loss for the team that won the league. their other two games with the top team ended in a tie and a loss in which we gave up 5 runs in the bottom of the last inning to lose by one. that was a disappointing way to finish the season.

jackson began the season as any first year player will do...right field and 8th in the batting order. as he collected hit after hit, he moved up to 3rd in the line-up. he remained there for the duration of the season. jackson finished the season with an on-base percentage just north of .750 . as he displayed a little bit of fielding prowess, he was moved to second base where he spent most of each game.

during the closing ceremonies for the league, two all-star teams were announced. being jackson's first year of play, any expectation for selection would have been pretty narcissistic. nevertheless, he began announcing to his family that he was sure to be selected. i tried to prepare him for the eventual disappointment. somehow he knew better than i. he was selected as a member of the second team.

as a family we discussed the time commitment required for him to play on this team. all told, it was a 6 day a week commitment for 5 weeks. it cost us another couple of hundred dollars and most of our time during the month of june.

it was great!

jackson's team ended up not being overwhelmingly talented. one problem was that almost all of the kids chosen for their pitching experience were unable to play. we had kids learning to pitch while on the mound during all-star tournament play. not a brilliant game plan. even though, the boys were in most of their games. more than once they were blown out of the park, but they were having so much fun together that they almost didn't seem to care.

more than anything else, j-man learned a whole lot about how the game is played. he learned what a baseball player looks and acts like. i don't think he had ever had a sunflower seed in his life prior to this, and now he is an absolute pro. he got lots of game experience and lots of time in practice learning drills and concepts that have helped him turn into a pretty good little player.

he did so well that over the fall he had a number of coaches calling to invite him to play in tournaments with teams they coach. again...awesome experience. he spent a good bit of the fall on the pitcher's mound learning a little bit of technique and a whole lot of application.

he's still not ready for full-time select baseball. he likes other sports too much (and is too good) to restrict his free time as much as would be required. flag football just finished and basketball is ready to begin. he loves cub scouts, too. one day we will likely make the jump, but we'll deal with that when we absolutely have to.

until then, i can't wait to see how coach david reacts when he sees how different jackson is from the kid that left his team in late may.

"the 'call 'o the wild' is in the blood of many of us and finds its safety valve in adventure"

2009-06-15T11:12:00.009-05:00

"deep down inside me a tiny voice was calling. at first scarcely audible, it persisted until i could no longer ignore it. it was the voice of the wild places, and i knew that it was now part of me forever. inexplicably - amazingly - i knew i loved that hell. its fiendish grasp had captured me, and i wanted to see it again." percy harrison fawcett

i do not pretend that i have ever been in a wild place. to be sure, any place off the beaten path can be filled with danger if one is not prepared and careful; but, the true wild is nearly gone from this planet, and it is unlikely that i will experience it anytime soon. for the purposes of this writing, the wild refers to any wilderness that is unvisited by the unadventurous.

with this thinking in mind, i discovered the ozark highlands trail. some months ago, national geographic carried a photo essay about the OHT and i found it to be beautiful. that the ecological nature of the area is different from my usual haunts also intrigued me. plans for an adventure began forming.

our group ready, we left out for northwest arkansas on friday, may 22. an uneventful drive ended in an uneventful first night's camp. due to campground FUBAR, we were relegated to sleeping in a KOA. while i did sleep fine, i will also say "never again."

our morning came early as dad woke with the sunrise and insured that we do the same. the short drive to lake fort smith state park resulted in a view of a beautiful scene.

after registering at the trailhead, we were ready to begin the adventure and took the obligatory "clean and ready hikers" photo.
from left to right: me, neil, dad, dave , and keith.

our first day began with the usual optimism. i even pretended that the forecasted monsoon was apt to pass us by. that kind of thinking propelled us to take every precaution to keep our feet very dry when crossing water such as in frog bend bayou. those first few miles we passed several small streams in addition to numerous remnants of the previous land owners: chimneys with no homes to draw, spring wells that are no longer utilized and homesite clearings without the homes. it would have been quite a choice area to homestead back when. here's dad and his boys in front of a small stream falling into a pool.

several miles into the trail, a steady rain began to fall upon us. with the heavy canopy covering us, we hardly felt any of the drops getting through. that soon changed. we all attempted a couple of different poncho configurations before settling in on one that kept equipment reasonably dry while providing absolutely no protection for the hiker. one must prioritize. while a wet me would be inconvenient, a wet sleeping bag would be incomprehensible.

it interests me how even when hiking as a group, a backpacking party will stretch out over a significant length of trail. my experience is that this rarely happens in an off-trail hike, but almost always happens when a well defined trail exists. we all need to move along on our own terms. this hike was no exception. every couple of miles or so, the blazers would wait for the trailers and we would start the cycle once more.

it was under these circumstances that we regrouped in time to find our campground for the night. just on the west bank of hurricane creek, i spotted a sizable clearing that even featured a fire ring. of course it was a soaked fire ring and the water logged wood that i was able to gather was just too stubborn for me to make much of. a lot of work ended in a little flame and too much smoke. unsatisfied, we all set our sleeping arrangements and went about cooking our suppers. for me that was a tarp of painter's plastic thrown into an a-frame hanging on a cord strung between two trees, and some red beans and rice i decided try. even the tired, wet and cold-induced hunger i was experiencing couldn't make that garbage palatable. note to self for the next trip.

with chills permeating, i slouched into my bag and tried to warm up. i think i had created a water-proof set-up, but thankfully the respite from the rain lasted the whole night. i slept like a baby...you know the joke.

the morning brought back the feelings of excitement and hope. the rain had stopped and the oatmeal and cocoa renewed me. alas, as we were breaking camp the sprinkles began to fall...lightly, but there. we filtered water from hurricane creek and headed out.

whereas saturday's hike had us following the course of jack's creek for mile after mile, sunday found us following the path of a forest road for much of our 9 miles. it was strange to find my way through what appeared to be wilderness only to be occasionally be reminded of our close proximity to motorized recreation each time a truck or four-wheeler roared by.

as we climbed out of the river bottom, we were assaulted by mosquitoes. i have never been the target of so many at one time. i would guess that 100 mosquito bites is conservative enough of an estimate to induce a chuckle from my hiking band. when moving, the attack was manageable, but if one stopped to rest - look out - you are about to be let. tough decisions because we gained elevation for much of the day. we saw some beautiful scenery as we came out of the valleys and then fantastic views of those valleys as we approached the apex of our trail.

at one point, dad and i were sweeping the trail as we approached the top of richardson mountain. i spotted a small fawn by himself in the trees off to our right. as i pointed him out to dad, the fawn noticed us noticing him. he crouched down and lowered his head. he really became more difficult to see. when we didn't move, he laid down in the leaves and his markings became a perfect match for the forest floor. if i hadn't watched the whole episode, i am sure i wouldn't have seen him there. it was very cool. we left him to find his mom.

i always love the time when i have this epiphany of "what in the world am i doing?!" this time i was sitting in the rain with my brother. we were along the side of the trail having our lunch. i think i ate some nuts and cranberries and oranges. on every other day of the year, the possibility of me eating outside in the rain would have been close to zero. this day, it seemed perfectly reasonable and i was even encouraged by the decision i made that "at least it isn't raining too hard right now." charlotte would have loved to be there for that one. it would give her a great opening for her "what is wrong with you?" standard.

finally we approached white rock and with a final push in elevation gain, we arrived at the home of our shuttle driver. unceremoniously, she deposited us at dave's truck. we all changed into dry clothes and filled up at a waffle house. it was a great way to end a wet, but wonderful trip. i wonder if/when i will see some of the 160 or so miles remaining in the OHT.

this trip was different than many of my recent hikes. because of some schedule problems with end of school and all star baseball, j-man didn't come with me this time. it was a little easier not needing to guide him along the way, carry his equipment and assuage his fear. on the other hand, i have gotten very accustomed to talking with him along the trail, playing his word games and chatting with him in the tent at the end of the day. i missed him and hope things work out better for the next trip.

a new leaf

2009-01-12T21:10:00.003-06:00

in an effort towards good will in this new year, i have created a list of things i hate more than o.u. and it's fan base:

1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.

big bend of the rio grande - apache canyon

2009-01-04T08:44:00.008-06:00

after a one year absence, we finally made a return trip to the big bend of the rio grande.

this trip was hard to plan for from the start. our list of companions was ever evolving and devolving until the day before departure. with varying capabilities among the potential travelers, the itinerary for the week also continued to change. i say week, when really we were only there for a very short three days.

ultimately, the guest list included me, jackson ,dad, neil, david and zac. david and zac were already in alpine,so the plan was for us to meet up at campsite number 53 in the basin before heading off for a hike into cattail falls.

first things first, we stopped at panther junction to garner a zone camping permit for the area just west of burro mesa. this was a lot more time consuming than i thought was necessary. after haggling for 10 minutes over why my drivers license wasn't acceptable for a permit that might include the use of my father's car, and then over why it was that my father couldn't just tell them his information- the actual document had to be shown, over-zealous-ranger finally produced a convincing argument that inspired my father to walk out to the car to retrieve his driver's license from the car.

i then made the mistake of inquiring how the eastern boundary of the zone was defined. it isn't obvious from the map that the park provides and i wanted to make sure that we didn't camp in violation. the guy wasn't too sure, so he called over a young woman ranger whose face turned several colors of red when man-ranger mistakenly told her we were going to be camping in apache canyon. just prior to her head exploding, he was able to explain the situation and she was reduced to a slow simmer. after what seemed an eternity of one sided discussion on their part and low, disinterested grunting on our part, the desired papers were in our hands and we rushed out the the basin.

site 53 in the basin has pluses and minuses. on the plus side the site is near the end of the loop, is completely surrounded by trees, and is in the "no generator" zone. on the other hand, the site is very small with little to no room for tents. since david had not yet shown and wasn't planning to go to cattail with us, we dropped our stuff at the site and headed out. just out of the drive, we meet david and zac and confirmed their desire to stay behind.

we arrived to find two other cars at the cattail "parking lot." a short little hike up the trail and we found ourselves descending into cooler air as we moved into the shadows and approached the pour-off. there was very little water falling over the cliff, but still this is a wonderful place to spend a few minutes. we spent a little while hanging out by the water and talking before we decided we'd better get going in order to beat the falling sun. we lost, but were rewarded with our first big bend sunset of the trip.

back at camp we set out our bags and then enjoyed a dinner of steak and fried potatoes and cocoa. i got into my bag and turned on my ipod. as i lay there by my son, staring at the stars, sinatra sang "but whenever I have an evening to spend. just give me one like this. this is a lovely way to spend an evening. cant think of anything Id rather do." it was a perfect way to end the day.

the morning came early and we dressed quickly and made our way to the restaurant for an over-priced breakfast buffet. whatever. it was better than the oatmeal i had waiting for wednesday and WAY better than the mountain house eggs and bacon jackson had brought for the next morning. still, we have always eaten in the basin at least once, and this was our chance.

after breakfast we headed out 118 to a spot just past the ross waxwell scenic drive intersection to drop david's van. we packed into dad's new suv and headed down ross maxwell to the trailhead to apache canyon. the hike up the trail is well defined and not difficult. there are some surprising valleys that open up from time to time. we followed the old wagon ruts for a little over three miles to the old stone corral and ruins of a home. just before the approach into the corral, jackson and i hiked up to a spot overlooking the old water tank. it is a depression in the desert that was as dry as i expected. we ate our lunch at the corral and posed for a group picture in front of the old ruins.

after a good rest we were ready for the real challenge. if we only knew... heading north out of the corral area we followed a trail for a third mile or so. it then petered out in the middle of nothing. approaching the canyon was strange because although we knew where the canyon was, we couldn't see a thing until we were right up on it. as such, we inadvertently over shot our best entrance into the canyon. we went too far east and found a wash that looked very manageable. we followed it just long enough to find the place that it dead-ended into a 200 foot pour-off. we traversed around the head of the canyon very concerned about finding a way down that would be negotiable by an 8 year-old, and an autistic nephew. we looked over several plans that were unacceptable until we decided on one that would give us our best opportunity that didn't involve backtracking to the car. in pairs, we descended a 300 ft+ canyon wall of talus, boulders, cactus, and grass. it wasn't a true scree-slide, but it wasn't walking either. the last third we all rode down on our butts. with a lot of trepidation, nerves and gumption (and probably a little luck) we all made it safely to the wash in the canyon bottom.

the canyon is unbelievably rugged and harsh. i haven't been all over the park like many others, but this was surely the most forbidding area in the park that i have yet seen. forbidding, yes, but perhaps that is one aspect that makes it so very beautiful. with little rest, we began the remaining hike out of the canyon and into the cactus riddled flat lands which stretch out for 2 1/2 miles from the canyon mouth to highway 118. we were ever so pleased to see david's van waiting for us just where we expected it.

after some mountain house's and more cocoa, we fell into our bags and finally fully relaxed our bodies. the closest thing appropriate for the day's activities that frank had to offer that night was "luck be a lady tonight." i felt a little lucky that night that nothing untoward had happened to any of our group in our adventure in apache canyon.

as morning broke we loaded up on oatmeal and pop tarts and whatever else we could find for breakfast (including the aforementioned vomitable eggs.) we packed up our camp, stowed away all of our belongings and made the trek out of the basin for the last time. until later...

david wasn't feeling 100 % so he decided not to hike with us that morning as he and zac would head straight for alpine and the rest of their family. before he left us, he pointed us to a spot in the road where we stopped. after a short hike into the desert, we came upon some very cool rock formations. we all decided that walking in creek beds is wonderful for the beautiful stone available to observe. especially when in the desert, the handiwork of water is beautiful to behold.

we hiked back to the car and made a short drive over to indian head. it was the first time in our trip to really see many other people. we had a great time looking for petroglyphs and metates. we saw what must have been stoves of some sort and made our way to the spring at the end of the trail. we saw several groups of people measuring and documenting rock art found in the area. all in all it was a cool way to end the trip.

we had spent the majority of our trip hiking trails not advertised by the park rangers and visited areas viewed to be too precious and sensitive for the average park guest. while i see the point of protecting special places, forgive me if i disagree. as a taxpayer, i am part owner of these lands; and i dispute the design of one group of people declaring that they have the right to know of and visit sensitive sites but reserve information from those seeking the same information simply because the latter group may not have the same level of "training" to protect these lands. i would love to know what makes one grouping of rock art viewable (hot springs area) and another so very secret as to be unable to be discussed.

nevertheless, we had a great time in the park and -as always- left yearning for more. i have already begun planning the next trip.

"Heaps Injuns down there"

2008-12-08T09:28:00.007-06:00

well, not when we arrived. we were a little late to the party.

one of the things about history that i love so much is the opportunity to visit the sites where important events occurred and to walk in the paths that were worn by the men that made the history.

for many years, one of my favorite reading topics has been the plains indians of the north american continent.

the real destruction of these people as a military effort began in oklahoma in 1868. at the urging of sherman and sheridan and the hands of custer, black kettle's band of northern cheyenne were destroyed on the banks of the washita river in western oklahoma. within one year of this event all southern cheyenne were relegated to reservation life.

jackson, dad, eric, ethan and i left home the morning after thanksgiving for the long drive up to cheyenne, ok. after several hours, neil met us in decatur, tx. the drive through oklahoma was interesting as most all of the towns we found were filled with beautiful buildings looking to be around 100 years old. most were vacant. they appeared to have once been thriving little towns that were decimated by the great depression. they are mostly still trying to recover from the loss of residents and industry.

our original plan was to camp in the black kettle national grassland in an effort to create the illusion of camping in the middle of the plains in the way one would have done 140 years ago. being the last weekend of hunting season, and the grassland being the largest public hunting grounds in western oklahoma; we changed our minds about camp location. we opted for the great plains state park. the park was virtually empty. it is beautiful area situated right on a lake. the night grew colder as we erected our camp, built a fire, and settled in to cook dinner. pencil sausages, fried potatoes and dutch oven cobbler were washed down with smoking hot cocoa.

the wind was really blowing like crazy while neil told the boys a story about the ghosts of the headless indians who now lived on the other side of the lake. the squawking of hundreds of ducks out on the lake sounded just enough like whooping indians to give the story a little credence. after all the cold wind we could take, we finally got in our tents and hoped they wouldn't blow over.

the morning was beautiful. a bald eagle high up in his tree monitored our work of taking down our camp. we drove into hobart, ok for some breakfast. after some inquiry, we found the kozy diner. jackson was little nervous about walking into a restaurant in oklahoma considering all of the texas longhorn gear we were wearing. i assured him we'd be alright and hoped i wasn't lying. we had a great breakfast of biscuits and gravy, eggs, bacon and toast for very little cost.

after an hour or so we were in cheyenne. we arrived at the visitor center and listened to the party line concerning the battle; first from the park ranger, then as given in a 20 minute video produced for the visitor center. one quote stated that the whites "had every right to be there." meaning moving onto the indians land and expecting the former residents to get out. that was fine. i knew better.

jackson earned a junior ranger badge. after buying the obligatory book, pin, and magnet we drove out to the actual battle site.

this area, in winter, is not welcoming. it is made up of mostly brown grasses, a few trees, and wind. as we hiked down into the river bottom, we found that the temperature warmed a bit, the wind eased up and we were much more comfortable. it was a bit of a refuge from the surrounding cold.

i found it interesting that it is not known exactly where the main camp of lodges was located. it is generally thought to be in an area on the southeast corner of the valley, though no archaeological evidence had yet been found. the significant changes in the river's course in the past have not helped efforts. the trail does not lead the visitor into the area where the lodges were thought to have been grouped and the high weeds and grasses in between do not encourage exploration. neither does the trail travel too closely to the river itself. we decided to get off trail. we followed the river bed up stream to the area where the camp is said to have been. the river is pretty clean and easy to access. not being very wide, it would be very easy to cross. i was surprised at how swiftly the water was flowing. i saw how this would be a great place to stop for refuge in the middle of a cold winter. it would also be an awfully cold place to die. surviving wouldn't be a lot better when all of your possessions and food had been consumed by fire and your 875 ponies massacred. it was hard to know what to feel while we were walking the trail.

we left the trail again to stand on a high promontory overlooking the whole site. it is speculated that custer stood here to watch as the "battle" proceeded. it did provide a clear view of all the involved area.

after a very cold and windy lunch at the top of the bluff, we made our way for home. before the trip, i had read, many times, accounts of the battle ; but, they seemed a little different having been in the place. i can now visualize black kettle and medicine woman later lying in that water, both having been shot in the back. i had climbed the hillside so many ran up in their efforts to escape. it is a strange thing to try and understand the thinking of peoples who lived so long ago, but maybe that is the reason i love so much to read of them.

olley, olley, oxen free

2008-10-27T17:09:00.004-05:00

david and sarah recently bought season passes to seaworld. they only live five minutes from the park entrance, so it seems a no brainer for them. we have done enough talking about seaworld over the years to convince them that it is definitely worth the cost. yesterday was our first time to go to seaworld together.

after some dolphin feeding, aquarium fee time, a walk through the haunted forest; charlotte and david left us to ride the great white. the great white is a roller coaster full of too many twists, loops and general puke-inducing motion for me. they loved it.

after they rejoined us, david realized that they had misplaced their camera case. now if i had lost my camera, it would set me back a few hundred dollars. not nice, but not the end of the world. david, on the other hand, is a professional photographer and his equipment reflects as much. needless to say, he was not feeling enthused.

david immediately ran off to retrace his steps while i insured that the camera case was not anywhere surrounding our current location. it was not. as i hurriedly sought to catch up with the rest of our group, i passed a park employee. he informed me that the lost and found was located at the front of the park. good to remember.

we all waited for david to return from his search. after a few minutes he appeared and it was clear that he had not yet found success. i declared that i would quickly get to the front of the park and check the lost and found. after 10 minutes of "power walking" i realized that david was right next to me. we discussed where might have been the last time he had used the camera and when he for sure had it last. as we approached a food counter we recalled stopping there for a coke. jackson and i had quickly left the group, but they all sat on a rock wall for a few minutes. unfortunately we didn't see the camera case. when we approached to ask an employee, we spotted the camera case up on a shelf just waiting for us to show up. someone had turned it in.

as part of our relief, i was reminded of an experience i had with losing a camera. i lose things much too often, but this was ridiculous.

we were in the final stretch of a 10 day vacation to salt lake city. on the way home, we -of course- took the opportunity to spend a couple of days in durango. obviously we stayed at the strater. on our last full day in town, we spent a large part of the day walking up and down main avenue. somehow the endless surveying of the shops in town wasn't much of a chore. jackson and i were busying ourselves with taking pictures of everything that interested him. the beauty of digital cameras is that we can take all the pictures we want without being compelled to pay for the printing of all these photos. it was only when jackson decided he was ready for the camera again that i realized that i was no longer holding it. panic.

we had taken hundreds of pictures on our trip and i was saddened to have risked losing them all. we rushed up the street stopping in every store we had visited, each bench on which i had sat, and at every vista from which i could remember taking a picture. nothing.

in near resignation, we slumped back south on main when a man with a strong chinese accent stopped me and asked if he was holding my camera. to my surprise he was. he said he had found it when he walked out the front door of his restaurant. he looked at the pictures of our family contained inside and started watching for us. i couldn't have been happier. after thanking him profusely, we decided to pay him back by dining in his restaurant that night. it wasn't great, but it was worth it.

with the disaster resolved, we slept well as we prepared for the drive home. i packed the car as charlotte and jackson finished breakfast. with everything arranged, we were on our way. it is a familiar drive from durango south through new mexico. aztec, bloomfield ,chaco canyon, and cuba are all so familiar to me that the miles seemed to pass without notice. i sure noticed when we were about 20 miles out of albuquerque.

my cell phone rang and to my surprise, it was the front desk at the strater. my first thought was that i had forgotten to pay. no. that wasn't it. it seems that one of their patrons had found a camera in the parking lot and turned it into the hotel staff. upon looking through the pictures in the camera, we were recognized. i am pathetic.

i have not lost a camera in the time that has passed, but i am more prepared for the inevitable. now the first photo on our camera is always a picture of our computer screen showing a document detailing my name, address and phone number. you might as well be prepared.

the fallen man

2008-10-27T12:03:00.002-05:00

the title of this post is taken from the title of one of tony hillerman's novels starring joe leaphorn. tony hillerman died yesterday as a result of pulmonary failure. he was 83.

i previously have written a short tale of my finding of tony hillerman's work and how enjoyable it is to me. he was a fine author and a vocal proponent for preserving the traditional ways of the american indian culture.

thank you.

how much for one rib?

2008-10-07T08:12:00.005-05:00

a few months ago i heard tale of a great idea that i -unfortunately- did not conceive. on memorial day, a couple who live in our ward took the elders in our ward on a barbeque crawl.

according to texas monthly -and other sources- much of the state's (and thereby the world's) best barbeque can be found within 30 miles of my house.

lockhart has been deemed the "barbeque capitol of texas" by legislative resolution. the "big three" are smitty's, kreuz, and black's.

luling has a couple of good places, but only city market had achieved legendary status.

of course, no one needs say anything to expound on "salt lick."

with this in mind, russell wilde and i decided to educate the utah and idaho-born missionaries in our ward by recreating the memorial day adventure.

ava and i met elder borom and elder walker at their apartment at 11 one monday morning. just behind us were russell and his wife, charmaine riding with steven and betsy cantu. off we go.

our first stop was at city market where we were meeting dave smith and darrell hatch. at each place we planned to get one slice of brisket, one rib, and a link of sausage to share. city market has a cool old pit that is in a separate room from the dining area. with a few beans for ava and a big red, we were ready for the science to begin.

next on the tour was smitty's. smitty's used to be kreuz, until the family had a spat. kreuz got to keep the name, but had to move down the road. smitty's got to keep the building and the pits. i think they won the fight. we arrived just before a wedding party. good timing. like city market, one must walk through the pit area to place an order. it's cool that everything is open for the world to see. due to the wedding party filling the dining room, we ate in the entry walk. it's the best place to sit, but we had some serious heat to endure since only the main dining area has a/c. same meal plan, different results.

what turned out to be our final stop was kreuz. they are in a brand new building with hardly any soot on the walls and nothing caked deep enough on the tables to fill in the space between nail and skin. nevertheless, they call it a bbq joint. we ordered that same menu, this time topped with a bottled coke with real sugar. not bad, but not my favorite.

after kreuz, we were all so full that there was no way any of us could make a decent showing at black's so we headed home. black's is not going anywhere.

the verdict:

the best brisket was a tie between city market and smitty's. i wonder if kreuz needs to smoke theirs a little longer at lower heat, because it was not falling apart like a good brisket should.

sausage has to go to city market. the links at smitty's were good, but a little too greasy for me. kreuz was also very good, but third place nevertheless.

the best pork ribs were the ones at smitty's. they were still juicy enough, but the fat had emulsified so they the meat just tore off in strips. city market was a very close second, followed up , again, by kreuz. the ribs at kreuz were too chewy for my taste. to each his own. at least kreuz had the best soft drinks. i have to give them their due.

i wonder how the salt lick would have fared in a head to head with smitty's or city market. in my mind salt lick is the king, but their sausage might be ripe for an upset.

that is a test for another day.

man up, please

2008-06-17T13:15:00.004-05:00

for the past two years i have been left out of the boy scout summer activity. i had gone to scout camp or high adventure for the past 10 years prior to this most recent history. my responsibilities at church no longer require that i accompany the boys; in fact they require that i participate with the young women instead.

recent events perpetrated by the boys themselves have made me less saddened by my having been left behind.

last summer, a group of boys decided to have some fun with one of the raccoons that had been frequenting their campsite on previous nights. they stoned it to death and began the process of skinning it. the boy with the knife slipped in his work and skinned himself by slicing up his thumb. i don't believe in karma, but it is an interesting situation. i assume the raccoon was left to rot where it was, so that's nice.

this year they went to new mexico. i heard stories of some of the boys being unwilling to help with any of the chores around the campsite. as i understand - setting camp, cleaning, cooking, and packing up are the responsibility of everyone in the camp. additionally, only two of the boys were willing to go on the hike up to a mountain lake. i should be ashamed to be so weak and lazy. i'm sure i don't know what to say.

while it makes me sad to hear of the less-than-stellar behavior of the some of the current crop of boys in the ward, it does remind me of how great my son is and how i want him to behave when he is older. at eight he has already accomplished some pretty difficult outdoor adventures that these boys 10 years his senior might likely not attempt. it also makes me less concerned about missing next year's trip.

i sure am proud of jackson. he's a good boy.

light the homefires...get my slippers...make a pizza

2008-06-17T12:13:00.009-05:00

in 1996 charlotte and i prepared to celebrate our 5th anniversary. due to educational and financial concerns, we had not been on any kind of a vacation in several years. though we didn't have a huge amount of money, i had finally begun a profitable line of work and we had a large list of choices of vacation destination. after a little discussion, we decided on walt disney world. to be honest, i'm not sure why it had so much allure to us, and i sure don't know if i would make the same decision today. nevertheless, we made our plans.

we went in june of 1996 and had a spectacularly good time...so much so that we decided to return the following summer. during that second trip, we noticed a good number of kiosks around the resort advertising the disney vacation club. we decided to take a tour and see what was offered.

once we heard the selling price, it took us all of 10 seconds to decide that this was something that we would love doing for a very long time. we were not wrong.

because of the membership in the vacation club, we have been fortunate to invite along others and introduce them to walt disney world. it has been alot of fun and we were in orlando again last week.

this trip was a little different than others. for the first time we were able to bring our little girl. she seems to have had a good time and i hope she will enjoy returning as often as the rest of the family does.

ethan went with us this year. he and jackson had a great time together when they weren't vying for supremacy. unfortunately for ethan, jackson won all of these competitions since he is more than two years older. though life with uncle chris and aunt charlotte is a little different than what he is accustomed to, i think he had alot of fun and was glad to have gone. he was probably relieved that we only went on one waterfall all week.

jackson rode some rides that he had never considered in the past. big thunder mountain railroad and dinosaur were near-total failures whereas splash mountain and maelstrom were total successes. he also loved eating at the hollywood brown pinewood derby.

we enjoyed riding alot of the old standards, but being disney, there are always new attractions for those who return often. toy story mania at disney's hollywood studios (even the name is new) is a cool mixture of midway games and three-dimensional virtual-reality that we all loved. new hotels and attractions certainly keep things fun for us, though we really are drawn back by the things we have been doing for years.

while our week away was lovely, the ride home was awful. jackson got sick along the way which required us to stay the night in the grossest motel in the lower 48, and added 10 hours to our already 18-hour drive. i wish i could adequately convey the joy of pulling onto the shoulder and throwing open the door just in time to let out a boy with regurgitation on his mind. it is just up the list from not being able to get the door open in time. the three hours we wasted crawling through road construction reminded me of the reasoning behind my typical night driving. eventually we got here and we happy to slouch into our own comfortable home.

it's very nice to go traveling, but it's oh so nice to come home.

it's strange how we just got home, and i can't wait to go back. how very bourgeois of me.

act naturally

2008-05-29T23:02:00.006-05:00

living out in the country as we do, we are not provided with city-provided electricity. rather, we are members of a local electrical co-operative. as luck would have it, most of the board of directors are under investigation for stealing profits, but that is a story for a different day.

as members of a coo-op we receive a magazine every month called "texas co-operative monthly" or something equally creative. it is often filled with stories about small towns across the state, "cutesy" pictures of grandpa taking a nap with the dog, and articles concerning energy saving/ environmental ideas.

one of the more recent articles i enjoyed concerned creating "wild" areas on one's property. through landscaping flowering and nut-and-berry producing plants one would attract wildlife to the area. they can help keep down insects and some rodents. mostly the author simply lauded the pleasures of watching nature exist on one's own property.

jackson and i have done a little bit of work trying to create an environment friendly to the "wild." we have running water and other water receptacles around the yard. we've hung several bird feeders. squirrel feeders are about. we are in the process of finishing our first owl house. we have quite a few plants that naturally produce foods which will attract the critters.

our first hope was that ours would be an inviting home for birds. they are everywhere. i wish i cared enough to look in an ornithology book to discover all of the various species that frequent our feeders and baths, but for now i am quite content in watching and listening to them while i sit on my porch.

of course the squirrels and deer are incorrigible. after a few weeks of running around like an idiot with a bb-gun, i decided i looked like too much of a wanker and was going to lose the war anyway. i have made my peace with the fact that they will do as they please, and that fact will not be altered.

the coolest part of the whole project has been the arrival of the creatures i wasn't really expecting. there are rabbits about. i have seen an owl a couple of times. we really need to finish his house. we've acquired a foursome of guinea hens. i have no idea where they came from or where they go when the leave; but most mornings around 8, they are pecking around in the grass. we also have got 2 raccoons creeping up onto our porch every night after the sun goes down. they don't seem to bother frosty at all, but they are very interested in his cat food. i guess they are just too darn cute to chase off, so we put out a little food for them and feed frosty in the house now.

now, if i see or smell a skunk anywhere around all bets are off and we are getting rid of everything.

the rude falls not far from the tree

2008-05-18T21:37:00.001-05:00

a few days ago, jackson and ava and i were down at the river. the temperature was a little too cold for ava to get in so she and i were sitting on the sidewalk watching jackson as he jumped and swam. i brought a small basketball to throw to him as he jumped into the water.

the whole while, there were two other boys -they looked and acted like brothers- swimming near us. eventually the older boy left for a little while and the younger boy approached jackson looking for someone with whom to play. jackson had just jumped in the water and was holding onto the wall. the boy was standing up on the sidewalk and asked jackson if he liked to dive. true to his father's precedent, jackson acted as if he hadn't heard the question and did not reply. the boy asked again," do you know how to dive?"

jackson looked the other way, released his grip on the sidewalk and slowly floated down the river without any noticeable response to the query.

while i was disappointed in jackson's rudeness to this little boy who was just looking for a friend; i knew exactly where he was coming from and it brought a smile to my face.

it would appear that he is in for a lifetime of anti-social behavior modeled after my own and that saddens me a bit. sometimes it can be chore to avoid and ignore others with the required amount of steadfastness.

converseley, i still can't find it in my realm of patience to be bothered by others. and i'm nearly 40...what chance does he have at 8?

avoid running at all times

2008-05-11T21:54:00.003-05:00

i have not enjoyed running in a long while.

when i was in middle and high school i loved to run. mostly i think it was because i was pretty good at it. though i enjoyed doing it, i didn't really run track. i preferred to jump. through high school i was a long jumper and a high jumper. i didn't participate in any running events other than at the spur of the moment because there might be a spot free in the "no-chance" heat of the 400.

during practice, i trained about as hard as the rest of the team. intervals were every bit as much a part of my daily routine. the only difference was that after they were done, i worked on jumping technique instead of running technique.

the real decision maker for me involved meets. the field events were held first thing in the morning. by the time the sun had really gotten high, i was finished with my events and cooling out under the parachute. while the rest of the team were still preparing for - and worrying about - their races, i was taking it easy trying to meet girls from other schools.

while on my mission, i ran for a few months. stewart marriott was a very fit companion who was intent on retaining his modeling career after his mission was over. we ran and lifted or stretched 6 days a week. i don't know what happened to me, but he went home to make a lot of money in modeling. for a long time there i would see him in major publications promoting huge companies.

a couple of weeks ago, i decided to go down to the barton creek green belt before work. i do this pretty often when i don't have to be at work early. i was listening to mozart on my ipod while hiking off through the woods. for some unknown reason, i just felt like running. it actually felt pretty good. i think all told, i ran/walked about 3 1/2 miles. the rest of the day i felt great. so the next morning i decided to go again, mostly to try and keep the soreness down. another great day.

something about the trail must be the deciding factor. there is hardly anyone else there. i usually see about 3 people in 40 minutes. rather than pounding away on some street that looks just like it did 5 minutes ago, the trail changes constantly. i even had to dodge a rattlesnake last week.

although i've been 7 times in the last two weeks, i don't know how long this current infatuation will last. i hope for a good while. maybe i just needed the right circumstance to make it work. i certainly could stand to be a little more fit.

now, if i could only learn to jangle a bit when i walk.

nap time's over

2008-04-08T13:13:00.002-05:00

the higher you fly the further you fall

2008-04-05T14:26:00.004-05:00

i haven't written anything here for a very long time. something neil recently wrote inspired me to put down some things of which i was reminded. he told a couple of stories concerning end of the game free throws and how every once in a while it all comes down to you - it is particularly timely considering the failure of the memphis tigers last night.

jack king once wrote :"Few players recall big pots they have won, strange as it seems, but every player can remember with remarkable accuracy the outstanding tough beats of his career." here are a couple of mine:

when i was a senior in high school, i was the free safety on our football team. coming into our final game of the season, i thought i was a pretty good player. nothing special, mind you, but pretty good. i had 5 or 6 interceptions, 3 or 4 touchdowns and had even hit a guy from lockhart so hard that he had to be driven off in an ambulance. at a 10 year high school reunion, that was the play most of the guys remembered from that season.

we were a good team, but we played in a tough district. our final game was against new braunfels. in new braunfels. they were by far our biggest rival. as such, the bottom of our urinals in the field house were lined with stickers of unicorns to remind us of their place in our hearts. in those days, new braunfels surely had our number, as they won most of the varsity games in the 80's.

they had a kid on their team who was an ridiculous athlete. i think his name was leon wood. as a senior, he was first team all-state as a receiver and a free safety, as a basketball player, and as an outfielder. he went to the state track meet in the long jump and the 200. i wanted to prove myself against him. in addition, we needed to beat them to get into the playoffs.

one of their favorite gimmick plays was a delayed halfback pitch/pass. in practice that week we went over and over the variations of the play and situations in which they were most likely to use it. just before the end of the half they had driven to our 30 or 35. the down, distance and clock seemed just right for their play. in our huddle, i made sure to remind everyone what we had practiced and assured them that this was the play they were calling right now. "don't fall for their stupid crap" is - i think- exactly what i told our team. we broke huddle and i took my place in "center field" just waiting for the inevitable interception i was about to make. they snapped the ball as i drifted back and to the left where the ball was going to be thrown. then my synapses stopped firing in time. rather than a short delay, the quarterback immediately pitched to his halfback swinging wide. for 3/4ths of a second, i decided it was a regular sweep, and i started running to the line of scrimmage to crush this guy. in that short split-second of time; i stopped back-peddaling, started running forward and realized that i was wrong. it's amazing how fast the mind and body can work. just as i came to my senses, here comes leon. he was fast and was already full stride. i quickly hit full speed, and was still close enough to him to make a play. i knew where he was and i could see in his eyes that the ball was on its way, so i looked back. to my relief, i was still in it. i leapt as high as i could and tipped the ball out of his path. as i fell to the earth, i thought about how glad i was that i made up for my own stupidity. the problem was that because i lost that half second, i didn't get more than one or two fingers on the ball. you'll never guess who ended up getting 10 fingers on the ball as he dove into the end zone. i was so mad at myself that it was all i could do not to break down crying as we ran into the field house for the half. we lost 24 to 14, finished third, and missed the playoffs.

one of the other tough beats of my life was in a church basketball league. in the early nineties, the league in south austin was tough, not just for a church league, but good on its own merits.

my team was really good and we hadn't lost a game that season. the team that was our biggest competition for the tournament title (we already had won the season championship) was barton creek. i remember todd mccullough and brent allison on that team. they are still friends today. they also had some really tall guy (6'6") and a little short dude who might have been the best shooter in the league. as i usually do, i had created reasons to really dislike their best player and make it a personal challenge to send him home with his chin on his chest.

in the championship game the lead went back and forth for most of the game. with about 10 seconds left, we were down by 1 and called time out. as the youngest guy on the court, i often deferred to the designs of the older, more experienced guys. it was decided that i would take the last shot. i couldn't have been happier because it meant that i was going to be the one to stick it to this guy from barton creek. we ran our play and with 2 second left, i got fouled in the act. they called time out to ice me, but eventually it was time to step to the line. i have to admit i was fairly nervous getting the ball from the ref. i took a good breath and sank my free throw. no rim. now that the pressure of losing the game was off i had no question of hitting the second one, too. as soon as the ball dropped, barton creek called time out to decide what to do. i accepted everyone's back-slaps for having given us the lead and then a familiar thing happened in our huddle. i proceeded to tell everyone that they didn't have time to do anything other than throw up some half-court prayer, so all we had to do was stay out of the way and not foul. "whatever you do - do not foul," was what i said as we take the court. i'm guarding little guy as he receives the inbound pass. he gets a couple of dribbles to the half court line and jacks up his prayer. it was answered. not in the regular way though - i was called for a foul on the three point attempt. did i even touch him? no. was i closely guarding him? sure. was it stupid to be that close under the circumstances? absolutely. what i really couldn't believe was that the referee would make such a call to decide a game. maybe he was getting back at tim for telling him that tim had forgotten more about basketball than this ref would ever know. after i saw the call, i didn't break stride as i kept on walking out of the gym and then the building. i sat down on some shrubbery while dad tried to console me. no way he could have succeeded, but he sure tried. at least i didn't have to watch this guy make his free throws.

amazing how clearly those scenes and thoughts are saved in my mind.

don't fight the feeling, give yourself a chance

2007-08-28T22:44:00.000-05:00

regardless of the wealth of disparaging opinion shared over the past 3 decades, disco lives. i guess i am still fond of it because it reminds me of my early childhood. my most vivid memory of the disco era was going to the skating rink to meet christine park. i was probably in 2nd or 3rd grade. couple's skate was never so sweet.

i recently created a cd of some of my favorite disco tunes. download and enjoy:

1. Stayin' Alive - The Bee Gees
2. Keep it Coming Love - K.C. & The Sunshine Band
3. (Shake, Shake, Shake) Shake Your Booty -K.C. & The Sunshine Band
4. I Just Want To Be Your Everything - Andy Gibb
5. Rock The Boat - Hues Corporation
6. You Should Be Dancing - The Bee Gees
7. Love Rollercoaster - Ohio Players
8. Play That Funky Music - Wild Cherry
9. The Hustle - Van McCoy
10. Jive Talkin' - The Bee Gees
11. Love's Theme - The Love Unlimited Orchestra
12. I Feel Love - Donna Summer
13. Please Don't Go - K.C. & The Sunshine Band
14. Fly, Robin, Fly - Silver Convention
15. Dancing Queen - ABBA
16. If I Can't Have You - Yvonne Elliman
17. Got To Give It Up (Part One) - Marvin Gaye
18. Saturday Night Fever - Bee Gees
19. Take A Chance On Me - ABBA
20. Last Dance - Donna Summer

john travolta, i owe you one.

one down

2007-08-04T21:56:00.000-05:00

when i was a teenager, i remember GQ releasing an article defining "30 things to do before you are 30." i wish i could recall or find that list. as i think of it, there is a very strong possibility that it was crap. i'm sure it contained things like owning a custom-made saville row suit, summitting everest or cruising around the world. you know, things that the average real man will have a difficult time accomplishing. frankly, pursuing a list made by someone else is a complete departure from the whole intent of the reasoning behind a list of this type. the point of something like this is to discover activities or goals that inspire the individual. when inspiration is the driving force, exhilaration and fulfillment are possible. otherwise the result is reminiscent of edward norton's character in "the italian job." though he had won untold wealth, he had no imagination with which to enjoy his fortune. instead, he copied the fantasies his former friends had described to him. sad.

i do remember dunking a basketball being on the GQ list. bully for me.

in the past couple of weeks, i have accomplished something that has been on my personal, ever-evolving, unwritten list of things to do before i die. i made it to havasu falls.

i first read of havasu falls about 20 years ago. some magazine had done a story about the falls and their remoteness and unsurpassed beauty. as one of my favorite things in the world has always been to swim in natural water sources, havasu was immediately deposited into my mind as a future pilgrimage. though i have come close a couple of times in the past, it wasn't until last week that my desires came to actual fruition.

like frodo, i set off as part of a group of eight companions. included were many of my favorite people: my brother, my dad, brian, dave smith and his son mason, brian's girlfriend andrea, and most importantly - my son. i was a little nervous about him since the hike into the falls would be pretty strenuous and he had never done anything this ambitious. he did very well.

there a few good things along the way to supai:

we saw billy the kids alleged gravesite.

anytime i go anywhere near blue hole, i am stopping for a swim. the day there was beautiful, and the water was as refreshing as always. it took j-man a long time to get in. eventually he did.

we returned to the el rancho in gallup. we only had a meal there; but, it's always good for a visit.

i finally visited the painted desert and the petrified forest. it's really not much more than an afternoon of activity; but, as with all things in the desert, i was fascinated.

perhaps rashly, we rushed on up to the grand canyon's south rim. it was a bit late in the afternoon by the time we got there, and there was a thick blanket of haze in the air; but, nothing could have diminished the unyielding grandeur of this singular sight. no picture can capture or even approach its magnificence. i must return for a better look, and a stiffer hike.

finally we were off to the havasupai reservation. after hiking 10 miles through water starved red-rocked canyons and then following the sounds of the rushing water of havasu creek, we rounded a corner to find ourselves at the top of the falls.
often, the actuality of a thing fails to meet the exectation. to tell the truth, i think it usually falls short. this place is the exception that defines the rule. i think it was everything i had hoped it would be. it is an unbelievably beautiful place. quiet. rejuvenating. the waters were a lovely blue-green color yet, nearly as clear as i have ever seen. the force of the water falling over the cliff and impacting the surface of the pool if sufficient to create a constant wind down by the falls, and the infusing of water into the air causes the temperature surrounding the falls to be strikingly cooler than just 50 yards away. the cottonwood trees rising from the desert are a welcome respite from the unforgiving sun. the limiting of tourist numbers employed by the tribe insures that the experience remains true. a crowd of people will ruin nearly anything, and the havasupai seem to do much to prevent this situation. i thank them. i had a supernal experience on their lands, and am thankful they allow us to visit.

on the other hand, the 7 to 800 dollars our group spent over two days should go a long way to guaranteeing that we will be welcomed back any time in the future.

a return trip to havasu? i need to put that on my list.

you can have fun with a son, but you have to be a father to a girl.

2007-06-24T22:53:00.000-05:00

my life has changed immensely since last i wrote. it appears to have been over two months since i took the time to write something.

on tuesday, the tenth of april, charlotte had a regularly scheduled appointment with her obstetrician. for various reasons, it had been three or four weeks since she had been to see dr. sweeney. everything seemed fine except for the baby's accelerated heart-rate and the smallness of the size of charlotte's belly. as i had been quite familiar with the size of her belly, i thought it funny that it could be "too small." we were instructed to get a sonogram "sometime this week." no hurry. don't be alarmed. just to be on the safe side.

friday came and we went to the sonographer's office in austin. after resolving the requisite fubar concerning medical referral forms, we were admitted into the examination room. the doctor's assistant came in and performed a perfunctory examination. at each measurement, she mentioned something along the lines of "that looks good." or "just right." she then called for the sonographer to perform the examination proper.

he repeated the same exact measurements, and for ten to fifteen minutes; we pleasantly looked at pictures of our daughter. the placidity of the moment was broken when he explained that our baby's low weight was a bit alarming. she was just inside the tenth percentile of babies in their 37th week, and if it were his choice, we would be on our way to the hospital to deliver. for some reason, she was not getting the nutrition needed to grow. a baby outside the womb can be fed and will catch up quickly without much fear of death. a baby in this situation left in the womb can find itself in trouble and the mortality risk can be drastically increased. with that, he left the room to call charlotte's doctor for instruction. leaving us alone to ponder these final remarks could have been handled better.

dr. sweeney was out of town. one of her associates would like us to come directly to the office where charlotte could be examined and a plan mapped out. this woman was wonderful. dr. abikhaled immediately put us at ease. she told us that our daughter needed to be born today. most likely, because of her size; she would need to spend a few days in the newborn icu. this was not in our scope of possibility as we left the house that morning. charlotte had not even packed a bag for the hospital. nevertheless off we went. considering our previous experience with hagen, it is an immense understatement to say that we were pretty worried.

seton medical center is the best. our nurse put us at ease immediately. while she was preparing to induce labor, she made us feel confident and comfortable. i notified all of our family of the situation; and hunkered down for whatever might come. charlotte was responding well to the medications given her. she had decided she did not want an epidural. when she delivered jackson, an epidural was given, and she felt as if it had blocked her nerves so fully that she had no control over her ability to push effectively. our nurse let her know that an epidural with partial blockage was a possibility she could choose. after an hour or more of labor, charlotte said a partial-blockage epidural was starting to sound really good. could one be ordered? in the time it took for the order to be placed and the anesthesiologist to make his way to our room, charlotte was already pushing. too late. dr. abikhaled had made her way to the hospital and was ready to do her work. while holding one of charlotte's legs, i watched my beautiful wife deliver a lovely little girl into the world.

my first thought was the same thought i had when jackson was born. "my wife is one bad-ass chick. i can't believe she did this." i couldn't believe how happy i was or how proud of my wife i had become. it is a miraculous thing to see the delivery of one's child.

our little girl was only 4 pounds and 12 ounces when she was born. apart from her weight, she was perfect. she is beautiful. she didn't need to have even one treatment that was divergent from the typical. she was born at 4:05 on friday, april thirteenth, and we went home sunday at noon.

ava is now 10 weeks old. she is wonderful. i am so proud of jackson because he is a sweet, loving brother. he kisses her, reads to her, and sings songs to her when she is grumpy. he loves her and it is obvious to anyone who sees them together. we have been blessed with two wonderful children that bring happiness and hope into our home.

as happy as we are, we could use a little sleep.

ritahhhhhhh!

2007-04-08T19:38:00.000-05:00

i love big hunk candy bars. when i am driving somewhere on a road trip (so-called) this is the mainstay of my gee dunk purchasing regimen. it has long been this way. i believe i discovered the beauty of the big hunk from my dad. big hunks, suzy q's and doctor pepper were the junk food of my childhood and youth. while dp and the big hunk are still very viable in my life, the suzy q is so rife with sugar that i feel like i may fall into a diabetic coma if i eat one.

while a missionary on the navajo reservation, the big hunk assumed a whole new level of interest in my life. a navajo singer recorded a song that was played on the reservation radio stations for a very long time. it was a bout a man, his girl rita, and a candy bar. after much fruitless searching, i recently found the song on the internet. it took a while, because i didn't remember the singer's name, nor the name of the song.
listen to the song

in case you don't care to listen to the live rendition, here are the words. it's not a very poignant song; but ,it makes me laugh:

i met ole rita down by the graveyard yesterday,
and she told me that she would love me whole lotta days.
and then i told her that i wanted to marry her,
but she said you got to steal the candy bar.

so i went on down to the tradin' post to steal the candy bar,
she was waitin' outside by the gasoline pump for me.
i went inside and took an ole big hunk candy bar,
stuck it in my pocket, tried to leave the store.

as i was walkin' by the peanut brittle, a man came up to me,
he said, "sonny boy ,you're in big, big trouble."
i said, "what's wrong mr. tradin' post man,
i didn't do anythin' to you."

he reached into my pocket, took out the candy bar.
he said, "son, your goin' up to jail."
an' the navajo police came an' took me away
i'll never see rita no more

i'm sitting in the jail house waiting for the day,
to get on back home to her.
but i guess i'll always be here in window rock my friend,
i'll never see rita no more
just because of that crazy candy bar.

'I don't believe in Beatles — I just believe in me'.

2007-04-05T00:19:00.001-05:00

something just happened to me that really freaked me out. i thought i would write about ; but, first a little back story:

when i was about 14 or 15, our stake held a fireside for the youth and their parents. the speaker was a guy named len (lynn?) bryson. he was presenting "music and the occult" or something along those lines. his thesis was that for decades, the youth of the world -america- church had been consciously and subconsciously led to satan through the efforts of some of the worlds most popular musicians. from what i can remember:

the beatles wanted me to "smoke pot, smoke pot, everybody smoke pot."

queen were gay, and also wanted me to "start to smoke marijuana." this message was "audible" by listening to "another one bites the dust" backwards.

led zeppelin wanted me to "look to the west" although christ would be coming from the east. they also back-masked the message of "my sweet satan."

"hotel california" was the home of anton levay and the church of satan...no eagles.

styx was obviously satanic because they were named for the river that separates the underworld from the rest of God's creations (at least for the ancient greeks.) they also sang of being "snowblind" which is all about being high on cocaine.

ozzy? satan-worshiper, bat-muncher and alamo-urinator...bad.

and then there is ac/dc. whether their name was an symbol for bisexuality or an acronym for "against christ/devil's children;" it should have been clear that something was up with them ringing "hell's bells" on the "highway to hell." supposedly brian johnson is possessed by the spirit of bonn scott who died of an overdose...hence the real meaning of their their first post-bonn album/single "back in black."

there may be others, but this is all that i can remember. i recall sitting in the chapel thinking to myself, "what a load of crap. if you hadn't told me what to listen for in this bask-masking unmasking, i would have never have figured it out. random stretches of the imagination and ancient mythology do little to convince me that there is a great conspiracy." i also remember him talking about astral-projection, which sounded ridiculous then, i still don't get it now.

on the way home from the fireside, i seem to remember talking with my parents about how interesting the presentation was; but, i don't remember any of us putting much weight into what we had heard. on the contrary, charlotte's mom took her home and had her break and then throw into the dumpster any music mentioned by the speaker or found in his materials which were for sale at the fireside. oh, well. that was the end of that, until tonight.

finally- at 11:00- i was on my way home from church. i've been listening to kzep 104.5 lately. this is san antonio's classic rock station. it is the best. unlike some others, this station is more likely to play ozzy than altmann brothers. more zeppelin, less jethro tull. i was on hilliard road when "alive" by pearl jam ended, and the next song came up. at first it sounded like the beginning of "nights in white satin." all of a sudden in turned into the obvious sound of back masking. i didn't know what was "being said," but it sent a shudder through my body, and scared the crap out of me. i turned the station, and looked all around me to see if anyone was in the back of the truck. you know how you keep turning to check behind you when you're scared. i'm still a little freaked out now. every dog howl or bark outside makes me trip out. this is the kind of night when getting in the bed is so cool; because, even when you're 37, you still have to make sure every bit of your body is under the covers. everyone knows that anything left exposed is fair game to the bogeyman...or at least jimmy page.

major dilemma

2007-03-17T21:02:00.000-05:00

i don't know what to do. what does one do when one of one's favorite college players is a star at the school one hates as much as any other?

not only do i hate the school, i hate their prissy blue school colors. what is their mascot? a goat? their fight song is annoying and i find their current coach to be a classless, idiotic jerk. nevertheless, some of my favorite professional players have come from unc...jordan, worthy, kenny smith are a few. go figure.

back to tyler hansbrough. after taking a russian sickle from the top rope in the duke game, he puts on a hannibal lecter mask and comes back for the next game as if their was nothing out of the ordinary. he always makes the right decisions. he hits his free throws. he's in the right place all of the time. no one will out-hustle him. he works for every single play, there doesn't seem to be a time when he gives up on a play because he thinks someone else will take care of it. he is a great basketball player who is a pleasure to watch.

that i hate his team and want them to get crushed every time out is at odds with the fact that i love to watch tyler hansbrough play well. he almost always does.

i still don't understand why they get home games for the first and second rounds. that's ridiculous.

call it sad, call it funny, but it's better than even money, that the guys only doing it for some doll!

2007-03-07T23:04:00.000-06:00

the other night, we were at our favorite restaurant when i asked charlotte if she was tired after a long day. she was quiet and a bit unresponsive. she said, "maybe, but mostly i'd like to talk when we get home." Lord have mercy. there is nothing that inspires fear into my heart more than when my wife pops out with those words.

i am around (almost exclusively) women all day at work. although this has been the case for over 10 years, it has not changed my position from stereotypical male as far as this subject is concerned. i have no desire to sit and talk about our feelings or assess our relationship. if there is a problem, i'll let her know. if she has a problem with me, i'd like her to tell me what it is that i'm doing that she wants me to stop doing, and i'll stop doing it. that should be the end of the discussion. i would like to think that we could be done in ten minutes max. after an hour and ten minutes has past, i am ready to set my face on fire.

at some point, the discussion will appear to be over. unfortunately, i am not at liberty to get up until permission has been granted. so we sit. and sit. and i'm thinking of ways to causing myself pain in an attempt to supersede the mental anguish. sometimes, she is just thinking of new ways to rehash the same old subject matter, sometimes she is done talking. i wish i knew how to tell the difference. ultimately, she will just get up and go to the bedroom and the stalemate will be broken.

it is amazing to me that after so many years together, a man and a woman can still find themselves mired in a game of emotional mexican sweat. until the game is over; you don't know what i have, and i won't allow you to look at what you have.

lucky thing i love her. that, and my fear of her, are what keeps my attention while we "talk." i should say, "when she talks at me."

garner state park

2007-03-02T08:07:00.001-06:00

i had the day off yesterday. it is the time of the year when a slower-than-usual week is not uncommon. additionally, i worked on tuesday which is typically a day off for me. although i have much at home that needs to be done, i needed a day to be irresponsible. i decided to go for a hike.

i grabbed a backpack and headed out for garner state park. i don't think i had ever been there before despite all of the people who have lauded its greatness. it is nearly a two-hour drive from san marcos to the park which is located on the frio river between concan and leakey. driving west out of san antonio on us 90, i stopped at the heb in hondo for some water and food.

some things about small towns don't really change. most people are quick with a "hello." people still make most of their clothing choices at the ranch supply store. like so many small towns in the west and south, there is a railroad line running right through town, parallel to the main highway. i also drove through sabinal, utopia, and bandera where the feel was almost exactly the same.

i understand that this park, being right on a beautiful river, is extremely popular. maybe these expected crowds is one of the reasons i have never been. well, on a thursday in march, the park is nearly empty. i saw a few people at the park headquarters and a couple of people camping in the campground; but, once i got my pack on my back and headed up the trail, i was all alone. didn't see a single person. i did run into a group of goats up on top of one of the hills i climbed, but they wanted nothing to do with me.

my first trail was up "old baldy." i am curious to know how many "old baldy's" exist in this country. i think every county must have one. this was a pretty steep trail and i even had to do a little bit of scrambling. i had planned on eating my lunch a little later in the day; but, the view was impressive and i was a bit tired from the ascent, and i needed a rest.

this first picture is a view from the top of the hill, while the second is a view of "old baldy" from a distance:

i walked about 6 miles over possibly the rockiest trail i have ever experienced. some of the trail was smooth stone surface, some was actual hardpack dirt; but, the majority of the way i was on loose rocks about the size of baseballs and larger. for all of that, i was surprised to not have any pain in my feet, and no twisted ankles. the downside to trails like this was that i didn't get much of an opportunity to look around while i was walking - my attention was focused directly on the trail so i could choose my next step. the times when the trail was steep and the surface was very rocky made for some fun elevation changes.

after hiking about 2 hours, i walked down to the river, soaked my feet for a few minutes, and headed for home. it may seem weird to drive 5 hours for a 2-hour hike; but, i sure had a good time. i think i'll need to do this kind of thing again. maybe lost maples will be next.

chick this out

2007-02-12T14:24:00.000-06:00

as soon as natalie maines said her piece about president bush, i considered her to be an idiot. it's not that i am a huge apologist for the president, or even think that what we're doing in the middle/near east is a reasonably managed program. her words -"just so you know, we're ashamed that president bush is from texas" reminded me of something an elementary student would say. rather that state an opinion as to why he was a failure or disgrace, she used a non-specific pseudo-insult to say nothing. i wish i had realized that this was the extent of her depth of thought.

many people across the nation were so offended by her remarks (later seconded by her bandmates), that they burned and destroyed dixie chick materials with a fury not known since john lennon declared himself to be "bigger than Jesus." their misunderstanding of reality again came to be on display. how could they not expect their core audience (red necks who vote republican) to be upset? the dixie chicks voiced their disgust and superiority (as they saw it) by ridiculing those former fans who chose to voice their opinions through boycotting, limiting radio airplay, and destruction or removal of their music. apparently the concept of free speech is only a workable concept for the liberals in the crowd.

after several months of limited airplay, concert cancellations, and vitriolic rhetoric; the "chicks" went on television and recanted their mouthings about the president. apparently they had gotten a little carried away and wanted to clear the air. i was disgusted. can you imagine ring lardner jr. or bob dylan changing their stories just to save some money? if you have a point of view and wish to share it, please do. it is your right and duty as an american. taking back your words because they are costing you your living is shameful. well, after a couple of years, i guess we were supposed to have forgotten that they lost their nerve while in the crucible. they reemerged after having all but disappeared for a good while. seriously, i never heard their music on kvet or xm. they were gone.

a new album came out this year being acclaimed by critics. though it is apparently a well constructed album, they still cancelled concerts all over the country due to lack of interest. schadenfreude, anyone?

as a result of that album, last night the dixie chicks were presented with 5 grammy awards. while some see this as a vindication for the girls, i see it differently. the voters for this award are neither the american public, nor the country music association. the voting group is made up of music performers, producers, engineers, and executives from across the country. this group of (perhaps) liberal-minded artists may have voted for this group as a referendum on iraq and president bush's administration; but, the reality is that they have not been forgiven by the majority of people who buy and sell country music in this country. i wonder if that will ever happen.

after winning one of the awards last night, natalie maines said, "To quote the great 'Simpsons,' 'Ha-ha!'" nice. there's nothing like having class; and, this broad demonstrates for the world that she is having nothing like class. like my old uncle olaf used to say," what do you expect from a pig but a grunt?"

my favorite dixie chick story happened way before any of this "trouble" began. i worked with a girl named katrina who could have looked vaguely like natalie maines if katrina had gone on a three week crack and heroine and crystal meth bender. one day she was talking to a boy who was about ten. she was just chatting with him while cutting his hair when he blurted out," you look like one of the dixie chicks." katrina's immediate response was ,"you better not mean the fat one."

it still makes me laugh.

take my license, all that jive, or didn't even see a berry flashin' those high beams. your choice

2007-01-17T20:52:00.000-06:00

the fact of the matter is that i like to drive faster than the speed limit (generally) allows. it has almost always been this way. school zones, congested urban areas, and mountain passes are the noted exceptions to the rule.

i do not mean to imply that i am a reckless driver. i never tail-gait. i do not weave in and out of traffic. i like to use blinkers when others are around, and i accelerate and decelerate in graduation. i am always assuming someone else is going to drive lackadaisically, so i am quite defensive and anticipatory while on the road. i have not been in a collision of my own doing since i was 16 years old. i have avoided many impending collisions due to my road-awareness; and the few collisions i have been in (myself remaining blameless) came in places wherein i had no way of avoiding a driver who was not paying attention.

now that i have attempted my lame excuses, may i repeat that, "i like to drive fast."

for this reason, i have usually owned a car that is close to the ground. the lower one's car, the greater the illusion of speed. even the 'rolla does quite nicely.

owing to my propensity for unlawful speed, i have had the good fortunate to take defensive driving courses on many occasions. currently the verbiage is "driver's safety course." regardless of the wording, the end result is a money grab for the municipal authority and 6 hours of my day wasted. it infuriates me when i am compelled to attend these vacuous attempts at rehabilitation. the general idea behind these courses is to scare and guilt me into driving ONLY when sober, and attempt to change my attitudes toward road rage (so-called) and speeding. of course the end to all drunk driving would be a glorious result; but, my attitudes toward speeding are not going to change. having to attend these courses is one of the risks i take by refusing to obey the speed limit. oh, well.

recently i completed an online dsc. it was wonderful. yes, it still took six hours of my life; but, i was able to watch football while taking the class. it was also the least expensive course available. the law requires a minimum cost of 25 dollars and a minimum time frame of 6 hours. the 6 hours i can understand;but, a LAW stating the minimum required cost of a course. explain to me how that has any effect on my behavior.

i have no idea how many speeding tickets i have received over the 21 years since i have been a registered driver. that may sound as if it is an incalculable number, but this is not true. i have never received enough tickets to jeopardize my license. it merely has been enough to not be able to remember them all as other people are able to do. here are a few i can remember:

the first citation i ever received occurred a few months prior to my 16th birthday. i had driven neil and myself to san marcos and i was - wait for it- speeding. that this happened when i was in the possession of a permit only did not help the situation. the dps officer was an acquaintance of my dad, so i got a little help there; but, i still got the ticket, and it was still a problem.

i got a ticket once in buda. i was in high school, and since i didn't have any money for the ticket i ignored it. this is not a good method for resolving problems. eventually a hays county deputy pulled me out of mrs. moeller's english class and told me that if i didn't initiate resolution before the following week, he would be back in order to arrest me. i made the necessary arrangements.

last christmas, charlotte, jackson, david and i drove to orlando. on the way out of town, i got a speeding ticket in martindale. this is just ridiculous. everyone knows that martindale is a notorious "speed trap." i expect that people who have never been to texas have heard of martindale and selma, texas as places to watch the speedometer. we spent the night in hammond, louisiana, and continued on the next morning. just before entering gainesville, florida, i got pulled over. charlotte was not pleased. while i didn't receive two tickets in one day, this is as close as i've ever come.

when i was about 23, i got pulled over for speeding through shady hollow. the speed limit on brodie is something like 30 miles an hour, which is absolutely ridiculous. the officer that wrote the citation was an idiot. he took my license back to his car to check my driving record. when he finally returned, he gave me a lecture about my driving history, as i had then received 7 tickets for speeding since being awarded a license. he asked, "don't you think 7 tickets for speeding is a little reckless for someone who has only had a license for 7 years?" what i said was, "yes sir, i don't know what i have been thinking." what i really was thinking though, was, "one a year? for as much as i speed? that is awesome!"

sadly enough, my recent experience with a driver's safety course still hasn't changed my point of view.

an auspicious beginning

2007-01-16T11:04:00.000-06:00

a couple of nights ago i got a call from a newly married guy on my basketball team - tommy. he was going to be unable to make it to our game scheduled for the following night. it seems that his wife had made dinner plans with another couple prior to their receipt of the league schedule. he said there was no way he could get out of that in order to come to this.

i had a different experience and outlook shortly after i got married.

joey melgoza had asked me to play in a softball tournament with him one weekend. he and i have been friends for a long time and we have played in a lot of basketball and softball leagues and tournaments together. this particular tournament was in east austin, off of govalle and rosewood.

we lost our first game on saturday, and got stuck in the loser's bracket of a double-elimination tournament. the loser's bracket is undesirable because one's team will have to play alot more games to get back to the championship (in one way this makes it quite desirable.) we played several more games on saturday and won them all.

sunday morning, i decided to skip church to go to the tournament. it was not -probably- the best decision; but, it was the one i made that day. additionally, later that night, there was a married-couples relationship workshop at the stake center. in these pre-cell-phone-days, charlotte and i had made the arrangement that i would just take a change of clothes and meet her at the church later that evening.

the games began, and we kept on winning. i think we played about 5 games that day before we got to the championship game. we were going to play the team that beat us in that first game of the tournament; and, i figured they would beat us again and leave me just enough time to get to the church. the problem was that we killed the other team in the first game of the championship. when it was apparent that we were going to win, i started trying to decide what to do. i knew there would be consequences and repercussions for leaving charlotte at the marriage workshop by herself; but, i also knew that after two days of playing, i sure wanted to stick around to see if we could double-dip this team. besides, i was the left fielder and (to quote my father) they needed me.

i don't need to tell you that i decided to stay for the final. as it turns out; charlotte forgave me, and i have a trophy around here somewhere.

i still don't understand tommy's way of thinking; but, i can understand why he might think he must think that way.

pop it to me

2007-01-05T19:06:00.000-06:00

i just discovered something i had forgotten about. i'm all excited.

when i was a full-time missionary, i had a companion named scott taylor. he was from sacramento, california, and we became really good friends. being missionaries, we had very little discretionary money, and were always looking for inexpensive things to buy that would bring us a little bit of joy. ice cream was too expensive. arizona didn't have blue bell, and we couldn't afford ben and jerry's or godiva. there really is no other acceptable ice cream to be found in a grocery store. we started buying otter pops.

we ate otter pops by the score. they were cheap, low fat (as if we cared), and good. best of all, in phoenix -home of the 122* summer day- they were cold. i couldn't even begin to guess how many i went through in that last year of my mission.

there are six otter popstars. each popstar represents a different flavor:

li'l orphan orange

poncho punch

alexander the grape

louie-bloo raspberry

strawberry short kook

sir isaac lime

sadly, when i got home from my mission, i found that no one in the area carried otter pops. local grocers had decided to carry flavor ice or the company brand. company brand is usually horrible just from the fact that they produce their wares with a low price point being their primary focus. quality is definitely not job one. somehow, flavor ice is a product made of frozen liquid; but, it is a dry popsicle. how is this possible? i feel like i have to drink some water after. i think they infuse saw dust into the recipe.

i recently discovered that heb in san marcos has begun carrying otter pops. i bought some last week, put them in the freezer, and forgot all about them. tonight, i remembered them. jackson and i each had three. he loves them, which makes me feel happy.

some things never change. louie-bloo is still my favorite.

sports clip

2007-01-02T20:40:00.000-06:00

jman has become obsessed with sports. right now the sport of choice is football. it started last year when vince young was running the offense for the texas longhorns. he really was fun to watch and able to amaze with his abilities and unwillingness to lose. winning the national championship by creating one of the greatest individual performances ever, in one of the greatest games ever; turned vince young into a hero for thousands of young boys around the state. jackson is no exception. he has carried his love of vince young into vy's career in the nfl. all he wanted for christmas this year was tennessee titans football gear. santa brought him a couple of jerseys, a helmet, a uniform, and a huge box of trading cards.

the card collecting comes courtesy of davin and dalen masur. davin is a couple of years older and has been collecting for a while. jackson and the boys are constantly comparing players, debating who is better - so and so , or so and so. this carries over to the parents as jackson will come home and say," r j said the cowboys are better than the titans." i'll have to give him my opinion as the only way to assuage him. today he asked me who my favorite players were when i was a boy his age. he asked me by sport, and here are my responses:

football: oj simpson and tony dorsett
basketball: pistol pete and dr. j
baseball: reggie jackson and mark fidrych
tennis: john mcenroe and bjorn borg
soccer: pele and did anyone else play?

those are the sports he could think of. obviously muhammad ali was my favorite fighter.

our talk today reminded me of the fact that i only remember having three posters of athletes on my walls in the pre-michael jordan era. here they are:

no one will ever be able to convince me of the opinion that sports are an unworthy pursuit for the socially conscious. it is the non-religious tie that binds together families and generations. well, at least in my family.

My teeth are mind blowin givin everybody chillz

2006-12-17T22:01:00.000-06:00

jackson finally lost the first of his baby teeth. i can assure you that he has been waiting in anticipation for a long time. while some of his friends were losing teeth last year, he didn't even get to experience the slightest wiggle.

he had been wiggling this tooth around for a few weeks. each day he would have us come check it to see if it had gotten any looser since the day before. finally, one day at school, he went into the nurses office to let her know that he needed help extracting this tooth from his mouth. at first it was a little upsetting to me to hear that she pulled his tooth. then charlotte explained to me that the kids like to have a tooth pulled at school because the nurse gives the kids a special plastic receptacle shaped like a molar. the kids put their tooth in the box, and hang it around their necks for the rest of the day.

the only tooth i really can remember losing was one i lost on the front porch of grandma and grandpa's house. it had been loose for a long time, and was really only hanging on by a thread. i would twist it around and back all day long. it was a weird sensation because on one hand it really hurt. on the other hand, the pain felt good. maybe there's a deep-seated personality explanation in that statement. i was on the porch by myself, twisting my tooth around, when it suddenly let go and ended up outside of my mouth. i remember it bleeding alot, and i spit a good bit of blood in the grass. i also remember figuring i would lose it before i got home so i decided to just throw it away rather than try to get any money from it. i threw it in those big evergreen bushes in front of the front windows. in the event it is still there, is there a statute of limitations on tooth fairy money?

obviously, jackson put his tooth under his pillow. we weren't sure what the tooth fairy leaves these days, in terms of money. i figured 2 dollars was good enough for a bottom incisor. he sure thought so.

so begins the story of jackson's future jacked-up smile.

arthur's theme

2006-12-17T18:50:00.000-06:00

living in austin, and having the clientele that i do; i know alot of people who are personal friends of president and mrs. bush. it is odd living in a town so polarized by this man. a small part are very fond of this man who was governor here in austin. a far greater percentage hate him for ruining the world...at least in their opinion.

one person i know who is friendly with the bush's is a woman named suzy. she has known them since she was in college with laura. they were neighbors in midland and then again, here in austin. suzy is an interior designer and a florist. she gets all kinds of interesting work. probably none is cooler than the opportunity she has had for the last 6 years to decorate the white house for the christmas holidays. of course, the job is monumental and she is one of many designers; but, she has always gotten the west wing as her responsibility. each winter, she is in washington for two weeks of continuous work.

suzy's daughter lives in d.c. when she finished college, she got a job in the white house (who you know.) it is hard work, time intensive, and alot of fun. fortunately for us, she is not determining, or influencing policy. suzy enjoys spending the early part of december in the nation's capital with her daughter and her old friends.

this year, suzy brought home a gift for jackson. he was so excited when i told him it came from the house of the president of the united states. being a six year-old, all things are simple. if one is the president; he must be a great man, and everything he does must be right. i remember thinking the same when reagan ran against carter in '80. i figured reagan must be an evil person to be saying such mean things about the president. times sure have changed. now i hear someone speaking well of a politician, and i assume some ulterior agenda is being spun.

back to jackson's gift. suzy gave him this year's official white house christmas ornament. it's representative of the administration of chester a arthur. it is a bit gaudy and flashy; but, it sure is shiny as it picks up the light from the tree.

thanks, suzy. jackson loves it.

feeling kind of "churchy"

2006-12-04T20:32:00.000-06:00

terlingua abajo cemetery

from david's "nirvana point"

sunrise over grapevine hills

at chata ortega's

i have taken a while to write this memory, because i have been pretty sick.

the night of our trip out to big bend national park, i realized i was catching a cold. it evolved into one of the worst colds i have had in a long while.

on our second day in the park, we hiked up the pinnacles trail to the north east section of the rim. the south rim is the best known hike in the park, and perhaps, the state. this trail we took is merely an extension of the primary route. we began the hike up WAY past the time i had planned for the start of the ascent. we had spent the morning and early afternoon exploring a village that is being reclaimed by the desert, a cemetery, and DOM. it was a good day. nevertheless, we started up the mountain about three hours later than i would have liked to.

combining the excess weight of my pack, the grade of the trail, and my cold; it was a slow-moving hike. i was feeling pretty weak, and lacking much energy. the effects of the cold, the altitude, and my asthma were really inhibiting my breathing which only added to my lack of stamina. fortunately, dad was with me, and he was willing to walk slowly with me. i am a believer that hiking at one's natural gait is the best way to preserve energy and enthusiasm for the trek. thus, dad and i were happy to send neil and brian up the trail at their own pace.

when we reached the end of pinnacles trail, we were pretty darned tired. as we descended into boot canyon, the sun was following our lead. by the time we arrived at the springs, it was dark, and getting colder. we were in no hurry to run up the slope, so we took quite a few rests along the way. during one such stop, i could not catch my breath. we sat for 10 or 15 minutes, and things didn't improve for me. dad asked me if i would like a priesthood blessing. embarrassed that i had not thought to ask, i said, "yes." there, on the side of a mountain, in the cold, moonless dark; my father laid his hands on my head and blessed me. he asked God the reveal His Almighty Hand. those words struck me with great force. He is almighty and all He desires will be done. that feeling struck me so soundly as to bring tears to my eyes. he told the Father that i was a good man and asked Him to return to me some of the good that i had given to others, as i was in such need at the current time. i could feel God's love for me very intensely. before my father finished conveying his thoughts and blessing; i was breathing at a normal rate. when the blessing was over, i was felt invigorated, and was ready to get on the trail. we sat for a few minutes to reflect on the moment.

with the help of neil and brian who had returned down the trail to find us, we finally reached our campsite at NE1. it was a beautiful spot, high on a mountain, with stars overhead shining in all their brilliance. it was the perfect place to offer a prayer of thanksgiving to my Heavenly Father.

i knew without a doubt, that God had heard the prayer offered on my behalf. in an instant, He delivered an answer that was revealed in such a way to give me physical strength when very little was present. it also reinforced the strength of my spirit, and my faith. after an experience such as this, how could i doubt the reality of the gospel of Christ? it is confirmed to me over and over throughout my life. in ways both small and large. this one was glaringly bright to me.

i'm glad the the Lord sees fit to bless me in my weakness. He is merciful, all powerful, and loving. i thank God for my earthly parents for teaching me the ways of the gospel, and for being such superlative examples of ones who will serve the Lord and put their faith in Him.

abraham lincoln - 143 ; every-freakin'-body-else -0

2006-11-19T19:26:00.000-06:00

today is the 143rd anniversary of the delivery of the preeminent discourse in the history of the western hemisphere. i have previously described my thoughts about abraham lincoln and this body of work; so, there is no need to rehash those musings. i could not -however- let the day pass without acknowledging this piece of prose which i hold in such high personal regard:

"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 that 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."

what bliss?!

She was looking kinda dumb with her fingers and her thumb in the shape of an "L" on her forehead

2006-11-17T20:53:00.000-06:00

yesterday afternoon i took jackson to target. he had just taken me for a couple of bucks on the putting green, and i told him he could spend it on football trading cards. it's weird having a six-years-old son who knows more about the nfl than i do. anyway...

we walk up to target and there is a line of 8 to 10 people lined up on the sidewalk, lying on sleeping bags, and wrapped up against the cold. up the way to our left i could see a larger group of people doing the same thing in front of the best buy store which shares a shopping center with this particular target. we looked with curiosity, but weren't sure what to think as they didn't appear to be protesting anything.

walking in, we overheard a guy on his cell phone telling a friend about the vagrants on the sidewalk; but, i couldn't make out whether or not he knew what was going on. we went about our business and when in the checkout line, i asked the clerk "what the heck?" he informed me that the playstation three was going on sale in the morning, and these people outside were in line hoping to be the owners of the limited selection available. i nodded my head in acknowledgement.

it is a strange thing to feel old and out of touch, and superior, both at the same time.

kitty cat...ahhh

2006-11-16T08:20:00.000-06:00

last wednesday night, i was walking into the church when charlotte called me. it seems she had just gotten home and couldn't get dingo to come up to the porch. they could hear her nearby (it was dark) barking up a storm and growling. charlotte got all of her things into the house and went out to try and discover what dingo was upset about. she found her standing over two little kittens which had crammed themselves into the crevices of a rock wall i built a long time ago. they were frightened beyond description, freezing cold, and hissing with all they had.

charlotte gathered them up and took them into the house. they were tiny and lethargic. she wasn't exactly sure what to do with them as i am violently allergic to cats and have never in my life had one in my home. i can merely sit in the home of a cat owner for twenty minutes before my body begins to rebel. my eyes swell to unnatural proportions, my throat and eyes itch beyond reason, my asthma goes into over-drive, and i sneeze with little stopping. she decided to put the kittens in a cardboard box, fill it with towels, and put it on the porch. she tried to feed them and get them to drink water; but, they were uninterested...or unable.

when we awoke in the morning, the cats were in horrible condition. they grey kitten appeared dead. he was lying on his side with his mouth open, his tongue hanging out, drool puddled near his head, and he had lost control of his bowels. his body did not rise and fall due to breathing. i thought he was dead. the white kitten was a little-but not much- better. he did not appear to be breathing either. when i touched him, he began to take deep gasps for air, and meow. after 30 seconds on this, he would return to his semi-comatose state.

i hurried them down to the veterinary clinic in town. it was about 7:45 and no doctors were meant to arrive into the office until 8:30. the receptionist had me fill out forms of "ownership." i repeated that they weren't my cats, i wasn't sure how much i was willing to spend on their treatment, and i was merely trying to do what i thought was the right thing rather than allow my dog to eat them. she said she understood, and she would call after the doctor had arrived and examined them.

later that morning i got a call that informed me that they were both alive. the six-week-old kittens were suffering from malnutrition, dehydration, hypothermia, and flea anemia. they had so many fleas, which had extracted so much blood, that they were dying from lack of blood. i'd never heard of such a thing. i was told they would be getting care all day, and i would receive another call in the afternoon.

when i called back that afternoon, i was told that the grey cat died. although i thought it was dead anyway, and hate cats in general, this was sad and upsetting news. the white cat was doing pretty well owing to an i.v. of saline, a blood transfusion, liquid vitamins, and a heating incubator. thankfully the vet explained that she would be happy to provide this treatment pro bono, as the kitten had received several hundred dollars worth of treatment. she said this cat was about as close to dying as possible without actually going over the edge. i went to get him.

i still hate cats. i don't want to have a cat in my house. i can't wait until it is well enough to be out on the porch. on the other hand, frosty (jackson has already named him) is a cute little thing and i can't help petting him and loving him.

what has this world come to?!

no t.v week

2006-11-13T19:27:00.000-06:00

this week is children's book week. as such, i am going to read a children's book. i haven't decided which...maybe "where the red fern grows." i'll definitely have plenty of time for reading.

as part of children's book week, charlotte always presents a program to the children at school; wherein, they each sign a contract to eliminate a portion of their television watching for the five days that comprise the school week. for example, jackson promised to watch no more than 0 hours of television this week. charlotte and i will also follow the pledge he has made. about one-third of the children in the school returned pledge sheets. charlotte seemed pleased with this amount of support for the first year of the program - especially considering that it is this school. the pledges seem to range from the "no more than 0 hours" to the "no more than 21 hours." yes, we had a good laugh over that one. what a sacrifice!!!

i would be lying if i said that we don't really watch television. we do. what we never do is watch network television in the so-called prime-time. from what i can gather, the shows featured in prime-time are crap. vapid. tasteless. morally deficient. vacuous. unoriginal. i don't/won't miss them in any way.

what i do watch much is the news...both real and fake, ie...daily show, colbert report, cbs news. i also watch alot of sports. when i am having trouble sleeping, a movie is a good source of mindless entertainment. i do that alot.

on the surface it seems like a simple thing to not watch television. that is because it is. good riddance...at least until next week.

i've had this stupid thing in my possession for a while...i might as well fill it out...whatever.

2006-11-13T15:43:00.000-06:00

Four things you might not have known about me --

A) Four jobs I have had in my life:

1. golf course maintenance crew member
2. short order cook on venus...ok so it was woodcreek
3. shoe salesman
4. hairdresser

B) Four movies I would watch over & over:
1. l.a. confidential
2. on the town
3. singing in the rain
4. a river runs through it

C) Four places I have lived:
1. dallas, tx
2. wimberley, tx
3. phoenix, az
4. aztec, nm

D) Four TV shows I love to watch:
1. sportscenter
2. curb your enthusiasm?
3. the daily show?
4. the colbert report?

E) Four places I have been on vacation:
1. epcot
2. magic kingdom
3. disney's mgm studios
4. animal kingdom

F) Four Web sites I visit almost daily:
1. bigbendchat.com
2. disboards.com
3. statesman.com
4. urbandictionary.com

G) Four of my favorite foods
1. greasy cheeseburger
2. chorizo, egg, and cheese taco
3. chicken enchiladas with tomatillo sauce
4. a REAL cobb salad

H) Four places I would like to be right now:
1. walt disney world resort
2. the blue hole
3. in the new mexico wilderness
4. in bed with jackson and charlotte watching a movie

you're gonna have to muscle up, big guy, to get it out there. give it the ol' steroid jerk!

2006-11-06T19:49:00.000-06:00

last weekend was the annual church golf tournament. dad, dave smith, keith ireland, and i played one under at plum creek. we had two bogeys in a select-shot formatted tournament...unbelievable. sadly, one under was good enough for third place. that should tell you all you need to know about the level of competition; but, i still out-drove everyone else on the designated hole. at my age, you learn to take the victories where ever they can be found. besides, jackson likes appropriating my trophies; and this is the first one for golf.

i am a rock...i am an island.

2006-10-25T22:32:00.000-05:00

My mama told me
Son to be polite
Take your hat off
When you walk inside

But the winds of change
They fill the air
And you can't set your hat down
Just anywhere

these are a few lyrics from lyle lovett song that came to my mind a couple of weeks ago. they have returned often ever since.

i was always taught to understand that it is polite to remove one's hat when entering a building. sometimes it requires real dedication to remain true to one's principles. hat hair can be quite embarrassing, especially as one's hair thins due to age. nevertheless, i have always attempted to be polite and pass on this lesson in manners to my six-year-old son.

i often find that people around here are not likely to remove their head coverings. it is uncommon for someone to do so. i have determined that it is because i work and shop in this bastion of liberalism that is austin. just look at the way they dress, and the way they act; it is obvious that they have no respect for themselves...how can they be expected to have any respect for anyone (or anywhere) else? i'm left to lament my surroundings.

a few weeks ago, i went to west texas for david's wedding. oh, yeah. sarah was involved, too. well, on saturday morning we stopped at a little restaurant in alpine named magoo's. i highly recommend it as they made me the best breakfast tacos i've had in a very long time. anyway, as i pass through the front door into the restaurant; i instinctively remove my hat as a courtesy that i expect to be commonplace in this haven of traditional custom, conservatism, and chivalry known as west texas. i am sad to report that no one else in the restaurant had removed his hat. cowboy hat, ball cap, or funny little west texas tall-cap-with-a-short-brim thing i only see in the sticks. what is that thing anyway? it looks stupid. i wouldn't even know where to get one...i guess the feed store. the only thing i didn't see was a yarmulke, but i wasn't taking an inventory either. they all just sat their eating with their heads covered as if this were the proper thing to be doing on a saturday morning in alpine.

i left my hat in my hand and threw my previous expectation to the wind.

maybe everyone thinks lyle will show up and steal their hats.?

three the hard way

2006-10-24T21:29:00.000-05:00

i'm playing in a basketball league again. it's basically comprised of the same ol' guys i usually play with...me, darren, pat, ray, rick, daniel, gary, and a new guy named hector (i'll let you guess his ethnicity.) i really like playing with these guys for several reasons. they are all very nice; they are all good ball players who know how to play; and some of jackson's best friends are children of some of these guys. it's funny how that happens.

the league we're in right now is a 30 and older league at the san marcos activity and rec center. we've played in this league and the open league several times each. obviously, the open league is higher competition; but, you might be surprised at how good the old-man league can be.

our team name is "wide awake." it always is...i don't know what that means. often, i think it's a bit of irony directed at our first-half performances. we have come from behind more often than i can remember. tonight we played a bunch of guys i have known around san marcos for a long time. well, you know what i mean; i don't know any of their names, but i have played with- and against -these guys alot over the years. their team is called "the church."

only four guys showed up tonight. i don't know what happened to the rest of our team; but, we got to start the game because they also only had four. luckily we tipped-off when we did, because their fifth showed up less than a minute later. we would have had to forfeit if they had started five and we only had four. we played four on five for the first half and eight minutes of the second half. after 3/4 of the game had been played, we were losing by about 3 or 4 points. this is when i fouled out. i haven't fouled out of a basketball game since i don't know when. i always keep track of my fouls, and can refine my defense to play indefinitely with four fouls. the problem is that i only had counted three up until the last foul. either it was my screw-up or the scorekeeper's; but, the result was the same...we were stuck with three on five for the final eight minutes and a half minutes of the game. darren can dribble through and around most anyone; he can also score on anyone from 24 feet in. pat is 6'7'' with a great three and strong inside moves. ray is a police officer who doesn't feel nerves or confusion. somehow, even though i looked like an ass sitting on the bench, i thought we had a great chance to come back and win. i say "we" ,but i had nothing to do with it.

although we had to play a triangle-and-zero defense, and they double-teamed darren and pat; we took the lead. up one...up three...pat missed a free throw that would have given us a two-possession lead. with less than a minute, darren missed the front of a one-and-one that would have given us another four point lead. they hit a three. ray with a short jumper from the baseline. they get a put-back lay-up, and we're down one again. with seven seconds left, pat gets fouled. double bonus. the first hits the back rim, bounces up higher than "the goat" could jump, and falls in the bucket. the second is all net. they get the ball down to their best player (not "shooter") and he is short with his shot, which is then rebounded by ray. the horn blared, and our guys celebrated like i haven't seen them do after a championship game win.

losing four, and then three on five has got to be a brutal, ego-sapping, manhood-robbing, avalanche of basketball disaster. i wish i had been part of it; but, it sure was fun to watch.

stick it in your ear

2006-10-17T19:06:00.000-05:00

i saw another one today. it is happening more and more, and is quite disturbing to me. so, here i go:

look, unless you are personal assistant to lando calrissian and are participating in the carbon-freezing of han solo, or the subsequent liberation of princess leia and chewbacca; there is no reason for you to stick a hunk of electronic metal in your ear. i like the sci-fi channel too; but, wearing portions of your cyborg costume around town causes trekkies to stare.

are you afraid of the transmission rays from your cell phone being so close to your head? good idea, now your phone is IN your head. tired of holding that heavy phone up for those long calls? upgrade your technology, gordon gekko. need hands free? work on your dexterity. it's not that big of a deal. maybe you just need to be ready to get that all-important call as soon as possible. it only takes 2 seconds to reach in your pocket and answer, i bet you can get it before the second ring.

until i hear a good reason for this ridiculous piece of technological self-gratification, i will simply continue to think you look like an idiot.

"i was having a nightmare." "get used to it."

2006-10-15T20:00:00.000-05:00

casa grande in the coming daylight.

last sunday morning, dad, jackson, and i decided to hike down to homer wilson's ranch and up the blue creek trail for a mile, or so. we had been in big bend national park for a few days, and this would be the final outing before heading for home.

on our first day we had hiked across terlingua creek into the mouth of santa elena canyon and up the canyon wall for a while. it is a pretty easy hike between the forbiddingly sheer and towering walls of the canyon. it is beautiful. the rio grande is etching its way through the canyon; and, in this remote location, it seems less like a border between nations than it is a source of life to the desert environment.

we hiked into the valley that houses blue creek on an overcast and cool morning. before we returned, we would be sprinkled with light drizzle. between the refreshing weather and the local environment, i was invigorated. after wandering around the remains of the ranch foreman's house, we found the trail up the creek. we had already seen a sign warning of the existence of bears in the vicinity. this caused a little concern because we had heard of some bear sightings in the area just days prior. as we had a group of three who would likely be talking much, i was not too worried. after all, jackson was one of the three, and he is physically incapable of silence, or even discretion. the second warning sign did cause me to be on high alert. it warned of mountain lions, and even suggested children not hike this path as the mountain lions can be aggressive, and a small child would be at greatest risk. sound advice; but not advice taken. we hiked about a mile up the path with me on the constant lookout. surely, it would be no trick at all for a mountain lion to remain unseen if that was his choice; but, i acted as if i would be able to detect his presence, nonetheless. the situation was not made any easier by jackson's lack of adequate compliance with the rules of the hike. he was to remain between dad and me, and close behind me. sometimes he did really well with these instructions. other times, not well at all. after a stressful hour of walking we returned to the "safety" of the ranch house.

all that remained was the innocuous switchback up the valley wall to the trailhead, and the car. walking on a two-foot-wide path between the scrub brush, we began talking about lions and bears (oh, my.) i turned my head to look behind me while talking for a few seconds. that was long enough for something ahead of me to create a noise i have never heard before. it sounded like a cricket, but it would have to have been the loudest cricket known to man. i snapped my head back around to see my right foot about one foot away from a three-foot-plus snake. its markings and color were familiar, so i checked its head. yep...diamond shaped. just to be sure, i looked at its tail. 7 or 8 rattles slithering to a stop. obviously, i stopped right where i was because the rattler was stretched out across the path. since i didn't want him to become unstretched in his effort to coil into striking position; i kicked a couple of sprays of gravel at him to get him moving again. it worked and he went off into the brush.

while i was kicking the gravel, i realized that jackson had seen the rattle snake and recognized it for what it was. he said to me, "stop it dad! you're freaking me out!" from that point forward, not only was he right between me and dad, he was right on my tail. in fact, he held my hand for most of the rest of the way to the car. like most of us do, once the adrenaline started to die down; he let us know how little he had been worried about the snake. in fact, we should have all stopped long enough to take a picture of it. while that might have been cool, i just wanted it to leave. i'm sure the snake reciprocated my feelings on the matter.

one thing for sure, it did get my attention.

i can't wait to go back.

how 'bout "billy reb?" or will johnny get mad?

2006-10-02T20:54:00.000-05:00

last friday night i went to a hays high school football game. darren masur called and asked if jackson and i would like to go with him and his two boys, davin and dalen. it sounded just like something we would like to do. we met up at darren's house and drove to the game together. when we go to hays games, we are almost always found on the visitor's side of the field. the main reason is that it is much less crowded than the home side; the other reason is that the hays fans may be the rudest, most classless football fans this side of arkansas.

we took our usual spots between the 5 yard line and the end zone on the south side of the field. the boys had a great time and i always enjoy hanging out with darren; but, the game was pretty uneventful...hays won by 4 or 5 touchdowns. the prevailing result of the night was my remembrance of my uncle billy ray.

a couple of weeks before my uncle's death, i ran into him at a hays game. again, jackson and i were with the masurs, sitting in our usual spot. at half-time we started walking down the stands to the concession booth. i had almost passed uncle billy before i saw him. i sent the others on and stopped to talk to this old man i have always known. he told me he almost never missed a hays home game and he always sat in the same area where i had found him. he had been coming to these games since the school was opened in the late 60's. when he told me that he was always allowed in for free, i said that i needed some explanation. from his wallet he pulled a card he had purchased in the middle 1970's. it was a lifetime athletics pass for the bearer. it was old and worn (just like uncle billy ray); but, still got the job done (just like uncle billy ray.) we spoke throughout the half, and then he left. he said the games always finished so late that he usually left just after the hays band finished playing "dixie." uncle billy died before i ever saw him again. i can't tell you how happy i was to have happened upon him that autumn night.

uncle billy ray wasn't the oldest member of our family; but, he was the patriarch. he knew everybody up and down the family tree for generations. he loved to share the stories from his life as well as those that had been passed down to him. at every gathering, he was the first to perpetuate the ever-present game of "42." he literally knew where the bodies were buried. he knew the location of a "lost" slave cemetery on the way to driftwood; and, one spring afternoon a few years ago, he led jackson, dad, and me out to lockhart to find the gravesite of the first wilsons to move to texas. this line of my father's family first crossed into central texas some time in the 1840's. as we crossed the counties, he told me plenty of stories about girls from niederwald, the crosshouse, riding his horse to kyle, and the dance halls between kyle and lockhart that he used to frequent. old stories, four generations, bar-be-que and confederate flags...it was quite a day.

i miss my uncle billy ray. he is a good man and i can't wait to greet him and his beautiful wife, caroline once again. living here, in the place where i knew him; i am constantly reminded of this old man as i find myself in the paths that he left.

book 'em dan-o!

2006-09-21T20:49:00.000-05:00

i am the first to admit that i am a (semi)recovering book snob.

for the longest time, the only thing i would read was non-fiction. in my library one would primarily find books relating to the american west frontier, sports, or the civil war. i would see people reading the latest michael crichton or john grisham offering and think, "oh, how fun it must be to be caught up in literary pop culture." as for me, i had no desire to be a low-brow, band-wagon fiction reader. fiction best sellers were well beneath me.

this thinking remained with me for a long while, until one december we went to colorado to visit family. while visiting my aunt rosie, she offered to lend me her copy of a book written by tony hillerman. i had heard of this author before, and had been interested in reading some of his material; but, i could never remember his name when i was at a book store. mr. hillerman writes mystery novels set on the navajo reservation of arizona, utah, and new mexico. this appealed to me greatly due to my previous residence on the reservation. i took her up on her offer. it was a great collection. the stories were fun and easy to read. they were well researched and full of historical, cultural, and political analysis. i became aware that there was a chance that my snobbery was foolish and not well-founded...perhaps i was missing out on some fun reading as a result of my pretension.

i decided to change my ways. sure, most of my purchases are still histories or biographies. it should be this way, because this is what interests me; but, i have read (and purchased) a healthy amount of fiction in the most recent 10 years. last week i was tested anew. i determined to read "the count of monte cristo." i believe i read it in middle school, but haven't touched it since. accordingly, i went down to half-price books in search of my prize. i found two versions. one was unabridged, and appeared to be thicker than "war and peace." i prefer the unabridged; but, this looked to be too much for my needs. the second choice offered was an abridged version printed after the release of the 2002 disney movie of the same title. what to do? nothing screams reactionary bourgeois reader like a book with a movie poster reprinted as its cover. i couldn't help myself. despite the howling protests in my head, i took the best seller version to the counter and paid. i just couldn't bear to face the 1500 pages of the original. 500 is plenty for me. my solace comes from the fact that this version is an abridgement of the original text-not a copy of the screen play. that is something i could never do.

nevertheless, i like a little rebellion now and then.

they act as if they knew the man

2006-09-19T21:23:00.000-05:00

i just finished watching a memorial service for steve irwin - the crocodile hunter. actually, i saw only the last 15 minutes, because i had just gotten home from a basketball game. the service was quite odd. it seemed to be held in an amphitheater at the zoo where irwin worked. i believe it was conducted by one of the guys from the "wiggles." there was a video montage of cameron diaz and justin timberlake and others saying "g'day" and "mate." did they know him? i don't know. the stands were filled with people in shorts and t-shirts crying for this man i'm sure they barely knew. the crowd were crying, clapping, singing, laughing. it was a little surreal.

don't get me wrong. i am not attempting to denigrate the fashion in which one's life is viewed, celebrated, or remembered by others. unfortunately, i have been to many funerals in my life...for aunts, uncles, grandparents, classmates, friends, a sister-in-law, and my son. one thing i have learned in these many experiences is that mourning is deeply personal. it is a singular expression unique to the individual. it also sucks.

put me down as a crocodile hunter fan. i don't pretend that i watched his show too often; but, it was fun to watch when i did. that said, people fooling around in the environment of a wild animal has always made me uncomfortable. what makes you think the dolphins want you to swim with them? i know i don't want you putting your dirty hands on my nose, why should they be any different? almost equally disturbing to me are zoos. even sea world (we get season passes every year) gives me pause. these animals weren't created to be confined in areas as restrictive as those generally provided. just because these particular animals were born into captivity and don't know any better seems a poor excuse to me. yes, they appear to be well taken care of; but, that's not the point. every year when we are at sea world, one of the trainers will go to great lengths to teach us that the reason these killer whales interact with them so personally is due to the bond of love which has developed between the whale and the individual trainer. this may be true. if it is, can someone explain to me what the big bucket of fish is for?...and why the animal needs a handful of fish after every trick? come on.

they also like to explain to me that the animals aren't doing "tricks." they are performing "behaviors." additionally, i am told that the animals only perform behaviors that are inherent to their species when in the wild. really? at sea world, i have seen a walrus doing sit-ups, a otter drink a 7-up, and a killer whale stick out his tongue for a picture. seriously, how dumb do they think i am?

here is what steve irwin did. he confirmed the thinking that i have that although animals in captivity are in a less than ideal situation; their sad and restricted lives serve a larger purpose. they allow the general populous to observe these beautiful creatures in an environment conducive to large-scale interaction. the advantage here is that it forces us to see the magnificence of a part of the world that is slowly being destroyed. he said that when we appreciate these animals, we begin to love them, and we will be less likely to destroy that which we love.

i hope he was right.

river boys

2006-09-18T17:26:00.000-05:00

i just got home from the river. jackson and i have made it a habit to go down to the san marcos river to cool off.

growing up in wimberley, we had a few choices when it came to swimming. sure, the lodge was o.k.; the pro shop was pretty cool because that's where robin wiley hung out; the spa was the best because we could jump off of the high dive and then stroll on over to jacob's well. as for me, the pools never held alot of sway...especially the public pool in san marcos. it always seemed to contain too much "lemonade" and the potential for "snickers bars" was always in the back of my mind.

i always preferred the rope swing, or blue hole, or the low-water bridge, or 7A, the marina, or fischer road, or just driving to san marcos or camp ben to jump in the river there. the chute was always fun. i always thought the river was a more exciting place to cool off. there were swings, or tunnels, or trees from which to jump, or zip-lines, or cliffs, or something that would up the adventure level just a bit more than a diving board. the river was always free, and the closest we ever got to adult supervision was when one of the reefs would show up drunk and try to cut the line.

my wife, on the other hand, is not excited about swimming in natural waters. well, saying it that way minimizes her reluctance to get in a river, or lake, or creek. as such, i have had to try to brainwash jman into understanding that natural water is the best place to rejuvenate. artificial swimming areas are nice in a pinch, but they certainly don't compare.

i think it's working. in a couple of weeks, were going out to balmorhea. we can't wait.

there's a reason it's a stereotype

2006-09-02T21:10:00.000-05:00

this is the opening weekend of college football. i love it. tonight, i am lying on the bed, and flipping back and forth between the ou/uab game, the notre dame/georgia tech game, and the usc/arkansas game. this is exactly the situation for which a remote control was designed. thank you, whoever you are.

i also had begun to forget something i know to be important: i hate the oklahoma sooners. i hate their colors. i hate their stupid song. i hate that wagon thing they drive around. i hate their toothless fans. most of all i hate their classless players. what has ever come out of oklahoma that benefited anyone? their school and state is a celebration of stealing land from the indigenous tribes. i hope you're proud.

i hate them unlike any other, and ever will this feeling burn.

dear lloyd, see you around sometime...maybe.

2006-08-29T22:19:00.000-05:00

my sister will be attending a 10-year high school reunion this weekend. charlotte would be attending a 20-year reunion this summer if she cared. likewise for me next summer. to answer your question: yes, i am that old. i have grey hair and a balding spot to prove it.

we have decided not to attend the coming festivities. we both went to the ten-year activities, and they were fun...not really great; but, more-or-less better than sitting at home...more "less" that "more."

my non-participation reasoning can be boiled down to two factors. they are the two topics discussed at reunions:

1. i don't want to talk about your kids, or meet your spouse. i don't care. i don't want to discuss my family with you, either; because i can only assume that you have no real interest in my life. otherwise, we would have communicated since the last reunion 10 years ago. i might laugh out loud if you suggest we exchange e-mail addresses, so please don't. if you genuinely are curious about my wife or kids, i'm going to become highly suspicious. i remember what you were like in high school, and i don't trust you.

2. "do you remember that one time." yes i do...vaguely. and to quote uncle hub mccann, "there's nothing sadder than two old has-beens talking about the good old days." you need to lock it up.

i don't want to dissuade you from going to your reunions, though. i bet you have a great time.

wimberley wildcats rule!

2006-08-29T21:30:00.000-05:00

growing up in wimberley was a wonderful thing. some things that made it so, were: rope swings, low-water bridges, pioneer town, the lodge, the spa, and the pro shop pools, the square, even market days was cool...when i was a kid.

we always had a competitive relationship with the two other elementary schools (and towns) in our school district - kyle, and buda. it first became apparent during baseball season, as our little league was made up of teams from the three towns. i'm not sure how accurate my memory is ; but, i remember getting smoked alot. the only reason we didn't get 10-run-ruled a few times was because in those days no such rule existed.

each campus organized a team of 5th and 6th graders to compete against the other two schools throughout the school year. wimberley hosted a basketball tournament right after the christmas holiday ended. the tournament followed a round-robin-style regular season wherein each school played the other two teams twice. in the spring, kyle would host a track meet; and, just before school ended in june, buda would be host to a softball tournament. as i think about it, i think the softball tournament was co-ed and only 6th graders participated. conversely, the track teams consisted of students from younger grades. i know the 4th grade was included; but, i don't remember how young participation descended.

i don't remember the results of any of the competition other than the year i was in 6th grade:

we lost all four of our basketball games. i couldn't have been more disappointed; but, over the holiday break, mr. farris taught us how to play a zone defense and we went into the tournament with renewed confidence. i don't remember any of the scores; but, we won all 3 of our games and put the trophy in mr. shand's office. 6 years later, the buda kids still said we cheated.

the only two things i remember about the track meet were that the buda kids were awesome at pull-ups (they swung alot) and we won more points than either other school to take the track title.

the softball games were held in the baseball fields that used to be where the buda elementary school lower campus is now located. maybe the 5th grade did play, because i can remember being at the tournament when i was in 5th grade and meeting charles attal, michael grizzle, and karen cervenka for the first time. doesn't matter. we killed both of the other schools. i remember one at-bat where i crushed the ball. i think i was rounding third when the right fielder caught up to the ball. i had crossed the plate by the time he raised his hands to signal that the ball had come to rest in the creek. i thought it so unfair, that mr. shand had a difficult time getting me back on the field when the umpire rule "ground rule double."

it was during those tournaments that we got to know some of the kids who would be our friends and teammates in middle school and high school. we got to meet new girls to talk about and call. i became friends with tim host during these competitions and we stayed close all the way through college. it's too bad the area is so large now that it isn't possible to continue these old traditions. it was fun.

i wonder how many people in hays county remember the wimberley wildcats, buda bulldogs, and kyle panthers.

from now on, i'll just stay home.

2006-08-25T21:44:00.000-05:00

in an effort to continue the common thread of misanthropic revelations, i thought i should include this little tid-bit:

we were out of pain reliever. typically, this is one of the things we always have stocked in abundance; but, charlotte needed a specific brand, so i was sent off to the store. it took me 15 minutes to get there -long way to town from the boonies- 4 minutes to acquire my booty -it took longer than necessary because i stopped to decide whether or not to grab "angel heart" for $5.99- and i was on my way to the checkout. obviously, i was in line for the self-check. this is where the problem revealed itself:

it came in the form of the couple in front of me who were unable to count to twenty. see, this is the stated maximum number of items in the self-check lines. o.k. i get the fact that you are a selfish, inconsiderate narcissist. i can deal with this because i'm used to it, as many people fit this mold. but is it necessary to discuss every single item with each other before struggling to find the bar code and not picking up on the ease of swiping it...even after the 25th item. good grief! i need to be at work in 12 hours, do you think you can get your butt in gear?!

if you are too unintelligent to figure out something this simple, how on earth did you decipher the maze of roadways required to get to the store in the first place? even frank on my ipod couldn't completely placate my rising anger.

oh yeah. jake (one of jackson's friends at school) let me read a note his teacher sent home with him today. she was thanking him for being a great student and leader and for making the first week of 3rd grade easy for her and the class. i can only assume that something vaguely similar was sent home with each student. this is wonderful and encouraging for a kid except for the facts that the word "too" was used improperly and two words were misspelled. what in the heck?! at this point, i can't even comment on this kind of crap or i may start bleeding from my ears.

can't wait 'til tomorrow.

this is chuck reminding bill to SHUT UP! to SHUT UP! SHUT UP!

2006-08-25T19:39:00.000-05:00

i had a visit from a client who reminded me how much i love silence. she was in the salon today, and didn't stop talking for the entire 90 minutes she was in my company. i do not exaggerate. in the few minutes i excused myself to consider downing our supply of drano, she called someone on her cell phone. then she stuck her blue tooth in her ear. my head began to hurt.

for most of my life i have enjoyed the lack of speech. to be sure, there are times when communication is needed and appreciated; but, i don't understand the need for constant talking. what do you think you have to say that is so important? wrong! it's not important, at all.

and small talk? i really would rather draw a warm bath and open up my wrists than listen to someone i don't know blather on about things about which i don't care. i usually make up a story about digestive problems so i can slink off to the restroom and privately bang my head against the wall.

i hope this doesn't make things awkward the next time we meet.

go easy bro

2006-08-24T20:17:00.000-05:00

it is abundantly clear to me -this week- that life is inordinately difficult. yes, it is full of joy and moments of peace and excitement; but, we all endure agony and disappointment below the surface. i have found that if someone seems to have a perfect life, that is only because i do not know that person intimately enough to see the underbelly of his existence.

i have the fortune -or misfortune- to be in a position to know about people's skeletons far before they are wished to be seen. sure, my job as a hairdresser facilitates these gatherings of information, and being in a bishopric causes me to often hear things i wish i hadn't; but, in reality, it has always been this way. i know alot of people, and for some reason i am trusted with information from many sources...often even from the origin of the event. do not confuse this with thinking i am a gossip. nothing could be farther from the truth. to me gossip is one of the great evils of human existence. i do not participate.

often, the tragedies of life are merely the natural consequences of the decisions made by the individual. "as a man soeth, so shall he reap" and all that. but at times, misfortune seems to be distributed arbitrarily.

just in the last couple of months, friends of mine have experienced:

*the suicide of a brother,
*the death of a 24 week old child,
*divorce,
*loss of a best friend,
*struggle with faith,
*isolation because of "coming out",
*cancer and chemotherapy,
*loss of a job,
*putting a parent in a "home",
*preparing for a spouse to possibly enter a federal penitentiary.

my life seems charmed by comparison.

when i see people slogging through these events in life, i often wonder where one finds the strength to endure these dark days. perhaps this comes from the fact that the sun comes up tomorrow regardless of our desires; and, one way or the other, one must face each day and deal with the realities of life. what else can one do?

i/we have been through days that i wish i had never experienced, and i found myself ready to move forward because of my religious beliefs. al gore might call this a "faith tradition." i know that no matter what life sends my way, my family and my belief in God will see me through. this knowledge is one of my greatest assets.

cornpone all around

2006-08-15T17:14:00.000-05:00

"if he had had his way; nobody who did not know how to catch a fish, would be allowed to disgrace a fish by catching it." so goes one of my favorite lines from one of my favorite stories. it was brought to mind this weekend:

we went down to hempstead to visit charlotte's father. he is contending with hodgkin's disease and leukemia. the chemotherapy treatments he is currently enduring have made obvious changes to him. he's tired. he's bald. he sleeps alot more and has much less energy when he is awake. hopefully, following this last treatment, he will regain much of his former vitality.

one thing that hasn't diminished is his love for racing. he owns a super-stock race car which he designed and built. he maintains the engine and makes weekly adjustments to the car to find the proper combination needed to bring home the trophy. we went out to baytown to watch them race. for 8 bucks per person, one can sit on aluminum seating while destroying hearing capacity and being witness to all manner of redneck activity. we got into the act long enough to eat frito pie and funnel cakes. good enough.

since we didn't get to charles' house until after 1:00, we all slept until 8:30 or so. after a very late breakfast of sausage, eggs, and biscuits, we started to process of getting ready to go fishing. after getting all of the gear, filling a hills brothers can, and waiting until after the first few laps of the weekly nascar offering; we were finally ready to get in the truck. charles has a few stock tanks on his property, and the fish are always biting. in order to be clear, let me inform you that we NEVER fish unless we are at charles' house. i don't really know how, or care to spend my time this way.

regardless of my ignorance and apathy, i ended up catching the largest of the 2 dozen fish caught that day. i understand it was a 3 1/2 lb. bass. o.k., if you say so. we ended up moving almost all of them from this more established tank, to the newest tank that was built a couple of years ago. the two largest bass were relieved of their status as living creatures; and, ushered into the position of lunch item. it was really good. even jackson ate a few bites, and he doesn't like fish unless it is made of chicken.

all in all it was a great weekend.

so many...so little

2006-08-04T22:44:00.000-05:00

i just remembered something funny to me.

there is not much on television tonight that interests me. usually, i find myself in this familiar position. this is one of the reasons i read so much; but, occasionally, i want to lay on the couch without thinking; and, t.v. is a great resource in these times. tonight, i ended up watching x games 12 for a while. it was insane. after, i turned on "pretty in pink." this is quintessential 80's celluloid refuse.

when i was a junior in high school, a new family moved in. there was a girl in the family who was my age. i wish i could remember her name. i know her last name was "allred," but that's where it ends. helen, or ellen, or elain, or ilene? who knows? regardless, i thought she was moderately cool because she was hip to falco when no one else was. i think i even made her a copy of my tape. we went out two or three times. the first time we went out, we went to see "pretty in pink." i thought it was acceptable, though ducky made me want to reach into the screen and kick him in the butt. i might have even gone to her homecoming with her.? i have a vague recollection of going out with her when she was wearing a pink taffeta dress appropriate for a 80's era semi-formal. how sad. on our last date, we went to see "back to the future." she hated it. i didn't. at that point i realized that any girl who loved ducky but not marty, was not a girl i wanted to spend my money on.

i wish i could remember her name? i really kind of liked her for a couple of weeks.

we talkin' 'bout practice!! practice, man!

2006-07-29T12:58:00.000-05:00

the apple falls not far from the tree...my son is a sports maniac. he loves to watch all kinds of sporting events on television. he will even sit with me to watch less popular offerings such as soccer and lacrosse. more than watching, he (like any real athlete) would rather play. golf, basketball, t-ball, soccer, football, swimming, volleyball, it really doesn't matter; he is ready to go. he loves to go to live games of all kinds. we've been fortunate to go to many different types of sporting events in many different cities.

right now he is playing in a basketball league. today marked the first game of the season. as usual, he got himself worked up into a frenzy of nervousness all morning long. here is where he and i diverge. i rarely was nervous before a game; he always is. he vomited in the parking lot as we were walking to the gym.

two seasons ago, he was so upset before each game that he decided that he wasn't going to play. he practiced his brains out with his team; but, when it came game-time, he was unable to get in the game. it drove us crazy. threats, bribery, peer-pressure were absolutely without effect for this kid. he didn't care. when he has made up his mind, that is the end of the discussion. i finally compelled him to play in the games held at the sbc center before the spurs game. not enough of his teammates were going to be able to make the trip; so it was either he play, or the whole team would have to forfeit. of course this would mean that the opposing team would be unable to play also, and we thought that was unfair. he played, and did pretty well. the caveat was that he required me to be on the court with him and follow along, up and down the court with the "peleton."

this morning, while jman was "earlin' in the parking lot" , i was reminded of a couple of my friends from high school:

galen cox was a fantastic football player. he was a linebacker and punter on our team. we selected him as one of our team captains. every game from seventh through twelfth grade, he puked his guts out right after stretches. i'm not sure what the rest of us would have done if he didn't get sick, so expected was this ritual. his nervousness had no effect on his play; he was voted all-district, cen-tex, and region when we were seniors.

when mike thomas moved into the area just before our eighth-grade year, we were glad to see him. not only did his dad own most of the schlotzky's sandwich shops in austin, mike was big. we figured he would be a good addition to our football and basketball teams. he was. mike was a tight end, and a good one. he also got nervous at game time. on the day of our first eighth grade game, we were stretching on the field. mike had expressed to us that his stomach was not feeling normal and he thought he might be sick. we didn't think much, because galen was puking his guts out at the time. all bets were off when, a few minutes later, mike's gastro-intestinal system relieved itself through a much smellier option. poor mike had to make his way from the high school field down to the middle school field-house while trying to not let his befouled backside be seen by anyone. after a shower and a change of clothes, he gamely returned to the field ready to play.

fortunately, jackson's extreme nervousness doesn't affect his love for playing, or his quality of play. you just have to watch out for the semi-digested pile of scrambled egg sandwich in the parking lot.

thanks for the mammaries

2006-07-27T21:22:00.000-05:00

i was just reading an article on the msnbc website. this particular subject comes up quite often, and i am surprised by the responses i read and hear on the topic.

apparently "babytalk" magazine has recently published an issue wherein the cover has a picture of a beautiful baby nursing on the discreetly positioned breast of his mother. apparently , up to a quarter of the respondents replied in less-than-positive ways. from the article: "I was SHOCKED to see a giant breast on the cover of your magazine," one person wrote. "I immediately turned the magazine face down," wrote another. "Gross," said a third.

as one who has never nursed anything (and never will), my opinion may be quite ignorant and without real value. nonetheless:

at one time, i had a similar squeamishness concerning the public use of breasts as anything other than advertisement. that may read as being quite crude, i am just trying to be forthright. i recall several occasions when i was in close proximity to a nursing mother and my anxiety level was skyrocketing by the second. in retrospect, my apprehension was undue. none of these ladies ever asked for my assistance or assessment. each mother took the time and effort to "retain her privacy." i guess my nervousness emanated from the fact that when a woman exposes herself i tend to get a bit uncertain. can i just pretend i don't know what she's doing? should i avert my eyes in a 180* manner? is it o.k. for me to glance, in an effort to act cavalier. at what point will she think i'm trying to be voyeuristic should i not be obvious in my attempt to provide the privacy she deserves? all of these are contradictory questions that fly through my mind like so many farm animals and beds and schoolmarms in dorothy's cyclone.

that was then. when my wife got pregnant, i immediately began to research everything i could that related to my pregnant wife and my unborn son. the breast feeding debate was one of these subjects. it goes without saying that breasts were devised with this biological purpose in mind. it is only through advanced science that the "lift and separate" function evolved. i couldn't possibly recite any of the statistics i read concerning the brain development of breast-fed versus formula only children; but, it was greatly in favor of the "nature boy." i understand that the bond which develops between the mother and child in this scenario is unchallenged in its depth. these factors all pointed to the obvious conclusion that our child should be breast fed if my wife was willing. as she read much of the same materials as i, she was equally convinced.

nursing is not always as easy as its biological and evolutionary design would have us believe. as such, charlotte signed up for a how-to class at a local maternity shop, and i decided to go with her. it sounds odd; but, this is my kid we're talking about. i had been to every one of her obstetrician appointments, so i didn't see any reason to not be involved here also. things went along quite smoothly until a pretty attractive woman in the class voiced her concerns to the class about the shape and size of her nipples. fortunately for me, the instructor told her that she would examine said nipples privately, and after class. i was already beginning to feel like a sex offender at that point.

after six months of watching my wife nurse, being in the company of friends nursing, and discussing every conceivable nursing topic with a few of my la leche league "lactivist" clients; i came to be quite comfortable with the whole situation. on the rare occasion that a lactating lady exposes her bosom to feed her child in my presence; i act as if nothing could be more natural...because, this is exactly the case. if she is at all worried about my presence or curiosity or maleness, she should consider that before unclasping her bra.

some say that they abhor public nursing because they don't want their children to see mammaries, or have to explain to their children what is happening. i don't understand being so afraid of one's children as to not even be able to discuss the most elementary of bodily functions with them. if you can't explain breastfeeding to a twelve year old, how on earth are you going to deal with nocturnal emissions or menstruation. broaching these subjects seems much more daunting. no wonder so many people these days are so disfunctional...their parents have taught them to avoid the realities of life by pretending they don't exist, or should be hidden in the back room like a dirty secret. what a shame.

as it stands, only the brazenly enhanced and displayed bustline causes me noticeable consternation.

british invasion

2006-07-22T17:34:00.000-05:00

i have been having a hard time pulling myself from in front of the television this week. the open championship (british open) is being contested in liverpool, england. from roughly 6am to midnight, one can get coverage of all things open championship. obviously, the actual play only lasts for about 10 of those hours, but post round analysis is nearly unending.

the open is my favorite of the so-called major championships. the game of golf was invented and perfected on courses just like those used in the open championship rotation. in most cases, these are the exact courses played by the creators of the game. the game played in these locales is vastly different from the home game played by millions of americans. whereas we fan something off of a perfectly manicured, computer and agronomically enhanced emerald carpet of grass, these gentleman clip a ball off of brownish fairways sculpted by time and livestock. our roughs can be 3-inch deep black holes of turf terror, where they hack out of foot-high wisps of dried out "hay." it just looks cool. our american players often intentionally hit into a bunker because the play out of a bunker is typically lower on the penalty scale than from the rough. in the open, you may not be able to even see the green from your bunker. they are that high...in the fairway, no less. hell bunker? the sands of nakajima? forgetaboutit.

our own national open is a great tournament. unfortunately, i don't know that i am sure that it is a fair assessment of a player's whole game. remember bethpage when so many were unable to even reach the fairways because they were cut so far from the tee on several holes? ridiculous. what about pin positions and greens shorn so close as to create payne-stewart-at-olympic type of situations. come on. rough so thick and long that one's only recourse is to chip out laterally? i don't like it.

augusta holds a very fine tournament each year. it is so well know to us that a true golf fan can describe with alarming detail each hole on the back nine. i have not yet been; but, my friends who have been have all said something to the effect that its beauty is indescribable and unable to be translated worthily over the television. that is something i need to see. the history created by playing the same tournament on the same course each year is wonderful. the back nine on sunday is so fun to watch because the swings can come so fast and be so dramatic. on the other hand, i hate that their response to today's technology is to change the nature of the course by adding ridiculous length, planting huge trees all over the place, and adding a "second cut" of grass. actually, i guess i'm ok with the length. you can't have people hitting driver/wedge to a par 5. still, i wonder what jones and mackenzie would have done.

as i'm not sure which tournament should be considered the fourth major (pga or player's championship) i won't add anything about them. they each pale in comparison to the other two,anyway, so who cares. i'd rather watch colonial.

keep it on the low down. down low. no doubt.

2006-07-18T23:08:00.000-05:00

i have a theory that all of us participate in an activity that should be embarrassing to reveal. i don't mean anything that is a true vice...gambling, pornography, drinking, adultery. i just mean something completely innocuous and simple. as an example, i will reveal one of mine:

i love walt disney world. charlotte and i first went in 1996 and we have been back at least a dozen times since then. charlotte has been 3 times in the past 6 months. sadly, i have been only twice in the same time period. our son is only six; but, he has been 6 times, and he thinks every kid goes to disney world every year. of course, this is not my secret. who could possibly feel silly about being fortunate enough to go to the happiest place on earth all the time?

my habit is one of participating on a message board for people planning trips to walt disney world and people who just want to hold online discussions about all things disney while biding their time between disney world trips. the thing is, i hardly ever respond to or begin discussions because most of the people on the site are stupid. the main topics (that get discussed and rediscussed ad nauseum) are "what's your favorite ride?" "what's the weather going to be like while i'm there?" and "how are the crowds during_____week?" every so often someone will post a question about "gay days" at disney world. not that the questioner is at all judgmental, he just wants to know how crowded it will be. yeah, right.

almost everyone creates some kind of cutesy online name containing a lame play on words dealing with disney or disney characters; like pooh"n"pigletspals. no offense if that's your tag. then they'll enhance their signature with lists of their numerous trips to "the world" and where the offender stayed during each of these trips. worst of all, they will post a picture of their kids who usually look like they need to spend more time walking around the park and less time riding in a stroller eating their 3rd premium mickey ice cream bar since lunch.

it sounds as if i am a disney snob (if there is anything so pathetic) ;but, i almost never read anything on this site that i didn't already know...except that the brazilian tour groups in the summer cut in line alot. that kind of analysis usually costs extra.

it all makes me wonder why i go to this site multiple times every single day. the only reason i can conjure is that i have to do something habitually, and i don't drink.

i got to go...i can't remember the best place to watch the fireworks in the magic kingdom. i better go check the latest poll.

p.s. check out buzz with his horns up. too cool.

he makes me look like a piker

2006-07-13T22:46:00.000-05:00

when i was a kid, a new family moved into our town. the bordines were very familiar. the oldest son was my age, next came a boy the same age as my brother, their sister was exactly the same age as my little sister. we lived at the top of the hill, and they lived at the bottom. their family was deeply religious, as was ours. each of the kids were at least moderately intelligent, so we all shared classes with the kid of the same age. the only big difference was that the bordines didn't have a father in the house. in point of fact, their move to wimberley was precipitated by the self-inflicted death of their dad. i can only guess that a fresh start thousands of miles away seemed like a good idea.

paul was the oldest boy. he was about 11 when they moved in and he had problems. the events of his life had caused such stress and trauma in his psyche that he had developed a bleeding ulcer. somehow, his mom found out that we lived very close to them and she asked my parents to encourage me to befriend her son and help him fit in so he would relax and his health might improve. from this inauspicious beginning was born a long lasting friendship. we were close friends for the next 7 years even up to the point that we drove to our high school graduation ceremony together.

paul and brad were also like us in that they loved to read. some days, we would walk down to their house, and all four of us would just lie around reading to ourselves. i think it was one of them that introduced us to the great brain and all of his adventures.

this series of 7 books were written by john dennis fitzgerald and published beginning in the late 60's. they are all written from the perspective of j.d. who is the younger brother of tom, the title character. tom, or t.d., is smart, conniving, honest, loyal, and greedy. go figure that personality. these stories all tell the tale of their turn-of-the-century, southern utah, catholic childhoods. that they lived in the center of the mormon universe was of particular interest to neil and myself. we read these books over and over until they were falling apart.

one of the reasons i enjoy the harry potter books so is that they vaguely remind me of these books from my adolescence that i love so much. both series are sweet, innocent, full of mischief and adventure, and are funny. the great brain books were a direct contrast to the horror novels that i was also immersed in at that age. perhaps the incongruity of the two subjects is what endeared them to me so strongly.

i was reminded of them recently while in salt lake city. neil asked me if i had found the old catholic academy where the brothers in the stories spent their secondary educational years. i hadn't even thought about it,; but, after the phone call i was very enthused to find this evidence of the real lives portrayed in the books. unfortunately, it is no longer surviving. well, what are you going to do?

if you're me, you will pull out your copies of the great brain books and start re-reading stories as familiar as if i had lived them myself. they are still funny and interesting. i discovered that mr. fitzgerald was actually born in price, utah, which is a little more than 3 hours south east of salt lake city. adenville, utah and the adjoining mining town of silverlode are fictional towns. i did a little research on the internet (for what that is worth) and found that "great brain" students (i find it odd that such persons exist) postulate that these towns were based on the real utah cities of leeds, utah and silver reef, utah.

i've begun reading some of the stories to my son. i am glad to hear him chuckling and seemingly enjoying that which is so dear to me.

thanks, paul.

p.s. i found that a movie was made in the 70's using the first book as the storyline. i'm not sure what it might be like since jimmy osmond played the role of t.d. fitzgerald. i'll begin looking for it nonetheless. i also discovered a claim that t.d. died while serving in WWI, though i have no idea where this information is said to originate. interesting, though. another source (with the state historical society) claims that t.d. was still living in price when j.d. died in 1988.

are you talkin' to me?

2006-07-13T18:22:00.000-05:00

i've perfected the art of grocery shopping. i thought i should let you know, just in case you want to copy my swing.

before i get out of the car, i have inserted my earbuds in their proper places. then as i walk through the store, gathering items, i listen to the music of choice at a high enough decibal level as to not hear the conversations of anyone i pass. on the off chance someone speaks to me, i don't care because i can't hear him anyway. i am pretending that there are so many people around because i am at a concert. i know it's juvenile; but, it helps me keep my imagination sharp.

if i have 20 items or less, the experience is ideal because i can utelize the self-check option and leave the store without interacting with a single person. if i have alot of groceries, the theory breaks down a bit because i have to speak to the checker. even i am not rude enough to keep my ipod blaring during this transaction...but here's hoping.

going after 11:00 has great merit, too; but, there is a shortage of checkers available late-night, so i can get stuck in line too long if i can't check myself.

i have to go to the store tonight, so i better go upload something soothing onto my ipod.

not so wiesy

2006-07-13T17:59:00.000-05:00

a few weeks ago my brother and i were discussing the beauty of the concept of schadenfreude. if you don't know, schadenfreude is a german based word defined as: pleasure derived from the misfortunes of others. today, count me in.

i am not at all a fan of michelle wie. today, in her most recent attempt to make the cut in a men's tour event; she blew up to the tune of 6 over.

so as to not let this degenerate into a pedantic rambling; let me simply say, "how's about you win something -anything- before you start blowing off your mouth about playing in the men's u.s. open or the masters. playing on the big-boys tour is fun and all that; but why don't you try to experience the sensation of winning on the women's tour before getting in over your head with far superior talent. right now, you are merely the golf equivalent of anna kournikova...just less hot."

some say that she is more than welcome to play on the tour because she attracts so much attention on tour and sells alot of tickets. this is definitely true; but, courtney love teeing it up would get alot of attention too, and i don't see anyone giving her any exemptions. i guess they are equally qualified...neither one has ever won a professional event.

i realize this is a 16 year-old girl i'm writing about, so some part of me is ashamed for feeling so much animosity towards a kid i don't know; but, i hope she blows up tommorrow too.

respect your elders

2006-07-13T00:20:00.000-05:00

about a month ago, i received unexpected and uninvited news. i am still wrestling with the outcome of this change in my life.

charlotte and i were asked to go to the stake center to meet with a friend of mine who is a counselor in the stake presidency. i really had no idea what they could possibly want with me, but the formality of the meeting assured me that it wasn't anything to do with a tee time.

i was informed that a change was being made in the bishopric in our ward, and our bishop had requested that i act as one of his counselors. i can assure you that this was close to the last thing that i expected to come out of his mouth. i didn't know how to react, so for a while, i didn't. when i could think of something to say, what erupted from my lips was "so, what do i have to do?" after discussing what would be expected of me (including the dreaded "wearing of the suit") charlotte gave her approval when asked. i said, "well, of course i will do it, although i am going to need alot of help and training." i was assured that i would have ample opportunities for instruction and guidance.

i was quite upset over this change for a while. i am not one to tell a priesthood leader that i am not willing to accept a request to serve the Lord; but, i was certainly not pleased with the situation:

1. i already had a calling in church that i loved and i didn't want to jeapordize that position. i taught seminary last year, and it was the best calling i have ever had in the church. i am no longer allowed to teach this class. someone else has replaced me.

2. i am not one who seeks church leadership. too often, people think that if you are in a position of leadership in the church that you must be overly pious, doctrinally omniscient, and perpetually ready with the paramount in problem-solving perspective. i am none of these things.

3. in order to be in a bishopric, i had to be ordained a high priest. this was, perhaps, the biggest blow. i enjoyed being an elder. i have always considered the elders to be the guys in the ward that really get things done. need a service performed? call the young guys, they'll get it done. how's that family doing? i don't know, ask the elder's quorum president. your kid is sick? call the elders, they'll be right over to give a blessing. i know that the high priests and the relief society do these things, too. i am just telling you how i have always seen things.

4. i was an elder's quorum president in the past, and i really enjoyed that position. obviously i'll never do that again.

5. the last thing that i can think of that concerned me was the make-up of our ward. there are not alot of young couples in our ward. subsequently, there are not alot of elders in our ward. i was concerned that by taking two of the active members of the elder's quorum and making them high priests, we would be further weakening what i perceived to be a struggling organization. goes to show what i know. in the last 5 weeks 5 new, young couples have moved into our ward. i understand there is another family coming in the next few weeks. lucky thing the Lord is in charge. it is abundantly obvious that left to my own devices, i would run things into the ground.

so far, this calling is nice. people seem to be excited for me -exactly WHY- i can't say...but excited, nevertheless. i feel the desire to talk to people i have only nodded to in the past. this behavior is good for me, as i am more desirous of isolation in my natural state. umm, i'm not sure what else, at this point.

the down side is that it seems like more meetings than anything else. as elder's quorum president, we went out two nights a week and visited people we felt needed to be visited. maybe they hadn't been home-taught in a while; maybe we knew they were going through a difficult time; or maybe they just were people we felt could use a visit from us. i enjoyed this kind of service. it made me feel like i was doing something important and making a personal difference to the individual. i'm sure we will do these kinds of activities also; but, usually my nights out involve being up at the church building, being seen, shaking hands, attending the meetings going on up there, and putting out small fires. that's o.k., and i know it makes a difference to people to have me around because they are misled into thinking that i am someone important based solely on my current calling; but it isn't what i would choose to do with my time.

my solace is that i know as long as i am doing what the bishop asks of me, i am doing what the Lord needs me to do at the time. i can do that.

there's more pretty girls than one

2006-07-12T23:14:00.000-05:00

i love lyle lovett. i don't know him; but, if i did, i imagine i would like him personally; though what i mean here is that i love his music. certainly, he is in my top 5 recording artists.

i remember when he was married to julia roberts. at the time it was very fashionable to ridicule him in print as being the "toad" or "ugly duckling" in their relationship. i felt differently. i figured she was the peter lawford in the arrangement...a marginally talented "beautiful person" trying to increase her value by tagging along with unmeasured talent. very few agreed with me. whatever.

before i discovered lyle lovett; and, eventually, met my sister-in-law (and her family) ; i wasn't aware that there were highly intelligent people who entered and subsequently graduated from texas a&m. i was pleased to be proven wrong.

charlotte and i have seen him 3 or 4 times in concert. the first time, we decided to buy tickets at the last minute. we were literally in the very last row of the majestic theater. it didn't matter, the concert was fantastic. we left the theater and immediately went to a record store to purchase all his music we didn't already own. we still love it all.

tonight i was listening to lyle's music in my car. the lyrics of my two favorite songs are included here. i wonder if i will ever tire of hearing his east texas drawl ease clever and poignant lyrics into a microphone. i hope not.

NOBODY KNOWS ME

And I like cream in my coffee
And I like to sleep late on Sunday
And nobody knows me like my baby
And I like eggs over easy
With flour tortillas
And nobody knows me like my baby

And nobody holds me
And nobody knows me
Nobody knows me like my baby

But it was a dream made to order
South of the border
And nobody knows me like my baby
And she cried man how could you do it
And I swore that there weren't nothing to it
But nobody knows me like my baby

And nobody holds me
And nobody knows me
Nobody knows me like my baby

And I like cream in my coffee
And I hate to be alone on Sunday
And nobody knows me like my baby

THIS OLD PORCH

This old porch is like a big old red and white Hereford bull
Standing under a mesquite tree
Out in Agua Dulce
And he just keeps on playing hide and seek
With that hot August sun
Just a-sweatin' and a-pantin'
Cause his work is never done

And this old porch is like a steaming, greasy plate of enchiladas
With lots of cheese and onions
And a guacamole salad
And you can get'em down at the LaSalle Hotel
In old downtown
With iced tea and a waitress
And she will smile every time

And this old porch is the Palace walk-in
On the main street of Texas
That's never seen the day
Of G and R and Xs
With that '62 poster
That's almost faded down
And a screen without a picture
Since Giant came to town

And this old porch is like a weathered, gray-haired
Seventy years of Texas
Who's doing all he can
Not to give in to the city
And he always takes the rent late
So long as I run his cattle
And he picks me up at dinnertime
And I listen to him rattle

He says the Brazos still runs muddy
Just like she's run all along
And there ain't never been no cane to grind
The cotton's all but gone
And you know this brand new Chevrolet
Hell it was something back in '60
But now there won't nobody listen to him
'Cause they all think he's crazy

And this old porch is just a long time
Of waiting and forgetting
And remembering the coming back
And not crying about the leaving
And remembering the falling down
And the laughter of the curse of luck
From all of those passerby
Who said we'd never get back up

This old porch is just a long time
Of waiting and forgetting
And remembering the coming back
And not crying about the leaving
And remembering the falling down
And the laughter of the curse of luck
From all of those sons-of-bitches
Who said we'd never get back up

can you recommend a good place?

2006-07-09T23:36:00.000-05:00

one of the things we have tried to teach our son is the importance of the temples of the Lord. perhaps his real interest began when the temple in san antonio was being built. as we live in an area close to the temple, and are in san antonio often; we made much effort to visit the temple site often in order to observe its progress from foundation to completed facility. he loves to see the temples and has 8 x 11 prints of a couple of dozen of these beautiful monuments to our desire to serve God.

a new tradition has been started in our family over the past couple of years. when we go on a vacation we make efforts to go out of our way to walk the grounds of the temples in the area we are visiting. due to lack of time and child care, we aren't generally able to enter the temple for worship. instead, we walk the beautifully manicured gardens of the temple and take photos of jackson with the temple in the background. occasionally all three of us are in the photo, but more often than not; it is just the little j-man. we sit for a few minutes and think about our family and why the temple is an important place to us.

last summer, we went to las vegas, nevada. we visited temples in las vegas; st. george, utah; and mesa, arizona. the mesa temple is, perhaps my favorite temple, so it was nice to be able to sit in its shadow once again. its design -reminiscent of the temple of solomon- is so classic and simple and beautiful. st. george is a fabulous building, and its place as the oldest working lds temple holds special weight with me, as well.

this summer we visited 11 temples on our way to and from salt lake city, utah. of course, the salt lake temple is the great, glorious traditional temple of the church; and, it is every bit as beautiful in person. it was a considerable disappointment that we left utah without entering this house of the Lord for education and inspiration.

here are the temples we visited this last week. i've included pictures with some of them:

-monticello, utah
-provo, utah
-mount timpanogos, utah
-jordan river, utah
-salt lake city, utah
-bountiful, utah
-ogden, utah
-logan, utah
-manti, utah
-albuquerque, new mexico
-lubbock, texas

it won't get any better than this; and it will never be this good again. i hope jackson isn't too disappointed next year with only 3 or 4 temples in the rotation.

who knew horace greely was so prescient?

2006-07-09T22:05:00.000-05:00

i have mentioned in the past that one of my great loves is the american west. i am fascinated by the lawmakers and the law breakers. i love the story of the american indian, although it breaks my heart to consider their history with the white eyes. i love the tales of exploration, discovery, and freedom that are found in the past. some of this adventure - well-tempered, of course - can still be found if you know where to look.

one of the things i love the most about the west is the terrain. even these many years later, one can easily see the rugged, forbidding nature of this wilderness that caused our ancestors so much anguish and labor as they attempted to tame it. its beauty (in its divesity) is something that doesn't cease to bring me joy. mountains, bluffs, sandstone sculpture, canyons, desert, mesas, spring-fed pools and snow-fed rivers are distributed across the west. it is beautiful.

we just returned from a road trip to salt lake city, utah. charlotte was to attend a conference, and jackson and i tagged along for the experience.

the drive from san marcos to salt lake is a long one. we passed through the hill country of central texas and the desert of west texas before turning north to the high desert of central new mexico. this land doesn't appear to hold much that would entice a man to settle here, but that is just what occurred in this place. this area is the origin of the chisolm trail and the home of billy the kid and the lincoln county war. the navajo have considered it sacred from time unknown.

in gallup, new mexico we spent the night at el rancho hotel. built by the brother of d.w. griffith on the edges of route 66, the el rancho is approaching its 70th birthday. it was the jumping off point for the production of dozens of westerns filmed in the gallup area in the 30's, 40's, and 50's. ronald reagan, barbara stanwyk, kirk douglas, humphrey bogart, and betty hutton are some of the famous past guests at the el rancho. we stayed in the alan ladd suite. it is a grand old place and worth the effort to find it. by the way, those in the know purchase american indian jewelry and art in gallup. the quality is fantastic, and the prices are highly affordable when compared to santa fe, phoenix, et al.

after driving through the navajo reservation in new mexico and utah, we arrived in moab, utah. the arches national park, canyon lands national park and monument valley are all within a short drive of this beautiful, red treasure. think big thunder mountain railroad...but for real.

from there it was through the valleys and over the mountain passes to provo, and salt lake city. although at the foot of a beautiful mountain range, i was slightly disappointed in salt lake city. perhaps i have been tainted by the too frequent exultation offered by lovers of the salt lake area. by contrast; the cache valley, which houses logan, utah is wonderful.

on our way home from salt lake city, we drove south on I 15 to I 70 and turned east. there began a 110 mile stretch of the interstate which contains access to no services at all. it was well worth the inconvenience. we were treated to a continuing array of beautiful topography. the crest of each mesa seemed to reveal a new type of canyon different from the ones preceding it. the only shame was that i was unable to appreciate it as much as i could have had i not been required to focus on the roadway as much as i was. it was a glorious stretch of natural beauty.

we made our way through moab -again- on our way to durango, colorado. durango is an old mining town in the tops of the mountains. charlotte and i spent much of our first vacation in durango, and we love returning to this mountain village as often as we are able. of course we stayed at the strater hotel, which is one of our favorite hotels. the strater is nearing its 120th year anniversary. it is a restored victorian hotel which housed louis lamour while he wrote much of his sackett family anthology. we'll always return to the strater. we went to the bar-d chuckwagon and even jackson had a good time.

the only event worth noting from durango to home was our short stop at the blue hole. it was crowded and loud, but the water was still cold enough to make me catch my breath and blue enough to strain belief. swimming in the blue hole almost makes me believe in the thinking behind the idea of "healing waters." don't laugh; i wrote "almost."

i loved this trip immensely despite the great distance traveled. i am fortunate to have been able to share these places and experience with my beautiful wife and the little boy that i love so much. this is what really makes these things so valuable to me.

i can't wait to return, even if it's to a place i've never been.

hey mister! can you spell "sh*t"

2006-06-24T00:09:00.000-05:00

a few thoughts on sports movies:

there are not many good ones. by sport they are:

"hoosiers." it sucks that there is only one. never saw "glory road", so who knows?

no football movie is any good. "north dallas forty" and "the longest yard" are crap. you love "brian's song?"...you're gay.

"raging bull" and "rocky" are fantastic movies.

i love "tin cup." besides, i thought that was the f*****g big dog. oh, and i always thought "caddyshack" was way way way overrated.

hockey is irrelevant so, whatever.

"chariots of fire" is so awesome that it needs no description.

baseball has inspired the majority of worthy movies..."bull durham" is the best, i love "field of dreams" although it is schmaltzy with a capital "schmaltz," the same goes for "the natural." "the bad news bears" barely qualifies for this discussion, but i love it so it's in.

my favorite sports movie that gets almost no play is "eight men out." i remember when it was being filmed, gq did a big article and photo shoot about the movie and the book that inspired it. i couldn't wait. joe jackson is fascinating to me. he is without doubt one of the greatest ball players in the history of the sport, but he is left out of the hall because of the pedantic ramblings of a pontificating zealot. any story that touts his legend is alright by me. even better, the movie turned out great. it's on right now so i'm gonna go watch. later.

what did david do? what DID david do?

2006-06-24T00:05:00.000-05:00

last night i went to a stake dance. that is not really true...it was a dance at youth conference. as one of the youth leaders in our ward, i had the responsibility of attending the event in order to support our kids, and also act as a chaperone. the reality of the night was that i sat and talked with my dad all night.

at one point in the evening the stake young men's president asked dad and me to patrol the parking lot. apparently, someone heard that some kids had been making out and we were meant to bring them into the stake president's office where they would be given a copy of "for the stength of youth." although we got up and walked outside, i will admit that i am the wrong guy for this kind of assignment. i told as much to my dad. i'm not snooping in anyone's car at 11:00 at night looking for kids. the church parking lot is a poor choice of location for this sort of activity; but, kids making out is not out of the ordinary, and it is none of my business. i'm not going to give a kid a missionary tract that he can already quote as if this were going to ecclesiastically neuter him into celibate submission. "let him without sin cast the first stone" comes to mind. and finally, i have some experience with "looking for love" at the wrong place (i know you're out there somewhere, theresa.)

we made a perfunctory circle of the building and resumed our places in the gym, without incident.

here are some things i noticed that showed me that these dances are little different than when i was "cruising the pretty young girls with a chip on their shoulder."

the homely girls still dance by themselves in the corner.

there is still the same group of guys who walk in and act as if they are the coolest males ever to grace the city of austin with their testosterone-filled braggadocio.

there are still a couple of girls that are so beautiful that you can barely stand to look at them. does this observation -coupled with my age- make me a dirty old man? i mean it innocently; but, if so, it's about time i got the designation.

they still have cheesy adult leaders that think the kids want them to set them up with dance partners or otherwise interact with them in any way.

the music is still overly white.

the kids still dance the cotton-eyed-joe; although the version they know is some techno version that is barely recognizable and nigh undanceable. no wonder they aren't very good at it.

no one has noticed any of the technological advances in refreshments.

i had alot of fun at the dances i used to go to and spent alot of time dancing with and talking to more than my share of beautiful young women.

i even danced with my wife at a couple of those dances so long ago. of course it was probably sympathy dancing. i'll let you decide on who's part the sympathy was being given.

are you being served?

2006-06-18T19:43:00.000-05:00

i returned last night from a week long camping trip to southeastern new mexico. our church sponsors a boy scout troop, and i have been fortunate enough to have been invited to spend a week with these boys for each of the last 6 years. they are wonderful boys, and i am lucky to be included in their lives.

as a church sponsored activity, we try to infuse gospel-based themes and teaching into the activities of these trips. generally this takes the form of short, 15 to 20 minute devotional meetings each morning and evening. over the course of the week, the boys take turns sharing their knowledge of the gospel and its place in their lives. it is pleasing to listen and watch as they are growing into the men they will become. after the teaching from the individual, the adult leaders take the opprtunity to elaborate on the theme, and provide experiential counsel based on our adult lives.

friday night was our last night together, and the theme of the evening's discussion was "where will you be in the next five years?" after some replies from several of the boys, i offered my views. these boys range in age from 14 to 18 years old. i told them that in 5 years they should be home from a mission, on a mission, or preparing to go very shortly. marriage will be coming to many of them in the near future.

of course, they all replied that a full-time mission is paramount in their plans. statistics tell otherwise; but , i hope for these boys that they prove otherwise.

i have been fortunate to have had some rewarding experiences in my life. there are really only 2 or 3 things i've done that i truly regret...which is not too many. without a doubt, the thing i have done that has made the most difference in my life is being a full-time missionary for two years.

being a full time missionary made me grow in ways that are vastly more important than anything i could have learned or done in lieu of this service. i learned to rely on myself, i learned some self-discipline, i began to learn how to lead others to accomplish important tasks, and i learned how to interact with others in a more selfless way. more than anything else, i grew a strong testimony of christ and his church, and what he expects of me as a man in his service. these lessons will serve me for much longer than this lifetime.

it is a wonderful thing to serve others. it is not easy, but the feelings and knowledge it brings are invaluable. i look forward to the day my wife and i are ready to go on a mission together.

we're just a couple of swells

2006-06-06T16:52:00.000-05:00

today is the 15th anniversary of my wedding day. charlotte is in florida without me. to tell the truth, i'm glad she's not here; she rarely gets the opportunity to go off with some girlfriends for fun, and this trip is long overdue.

charlotte and her friends, michelle peterson and jenny rinn, have gone to vero beach for 5 days. i understand they are doing very little of anything. laying on the beach and eating fresh seafood are the main activities for the week. today is the one day for diversion from the plan. they have gone to disney's mgm studios for the day. i'm sure glad they will be having a wonderful 15th anniversary dinner at the brown derby. i will not.

i'm continuing this writing after returning home from the night's adventure. i took my son and my nephew to a wedding.

for the past 10 years i have worked with a swet little girl named gina. when we first met, she was not even old enough to get into a bar. we went to a hair show in new orleans, and i missed out on seeing the pet shop boys at the house of blues (great band, wrong venue) because she was not old enough to get in. i would have felt too guilty saying, "i don't know what you're gonna do, but good luck." we all skipped the show.

tonight she married a very nice boy named david. they have been engaged for about 5 years. i can't tell you how many times they have set a wedding date, only to watch it pass by like the other dates preceding it. the first date i strongly encouraged her to keep was jan 2, 2003. easy to remember...1/2/03. that one didn't keep, but 6/6/06 was too inticing and so the die was cast.

the wedding took place on town lake aboard one of the capital cruises party boats. almost one and one half hours after the time i had been told to arrive, she came walking down the "aisle" to the beautiful sounds of "love me tender." gina loves elvis so much that she had her middle name legally changed from glenette (who can fault her for changing?) to presley. being the alternative lifestyles-type girl that she is, i was a bit surprised she was dressed very traditionally. she looked lovely. david was dressed like a cross between a swing dancer and a zoot-suiter with a little splash of james cagney added into the mix.

david's parents are preachers in an evangelical church in san angelo, they performed the ceremony. this was also pretty traditional...rings, scriptures, vows, kiss. after the ceremony, the new mr. and mrs. david dewey were hosts to a 2 hour party on the lake. the caterer did a wonderful job, the music was enjoyable, the company was pleasant and very diverse. in attendance were a couple there who are worth millions, another very vanilla husband and wife with two kids and a shoe store, me in a suit and watching two little boys, and another "straight" couple who looked to be on their way to a brooks and dunn concert. then you had her alternative friends. this is by far the largerst percentage of gina's and david's circle of friends. most were merely tatooed and pierced to varying degrees. some very expensive and extensive "art" was on display. lots of pain and suffering and money unnecessarily expended. a respectable complement of gay and lesbian couples and singles were on hand...interesting fashion choices to be sure. fortunately i have been in this environment for so long that i am not bothered, or even curious about these folks who are so different from my own crowd of peers.

i did find myself to feel akward because of one couple at whom i couldn't stop staring. they are a male and female couple, gainfully employed who are friends of gina's lesbian neice. i couldn't stop staring because they reminded me of a highly tatooed and pierced judy garland and fred astaire in "easter parade." jaime (ric's boyfriend) didn't appreciate my sarcastic remark at the expense of this very friendly couple..he said they were more like "a clockwork orange on acid." you say "tomayto" and i say "tomahto."

it is refreshing to know that no matter my experience in the world with different races , orientatons, and financial stations of peoples; i am never incapable of being surprised.

war! what is it good for?

2006-05-30T20:21:00.001-05:00

about 8 years ago, we removed hbo from our satellite service package. i'd be dishonest if i didn't admit that part of the reason was a morality statement. most of the offerings at the time were vulgar, lewd, and/or foul (not much has changed.) the other reason was economical...we didn't watch hbo, so we felt that we were just wasting money. for about two years we were hbo-free, and our lives were not amiss of anything.

then, i caught a story in some magazine about hbo's upcoming world war 2 mini series entitled, "band of brothers." the story was essentially true, the screenplay was co-written by stephen ambrose (perhaps my favorite author) and the series was co-produced by tom hanks and steven spielberg. they were fresh off their successful ww2 movie "saving private ryan" (which i enjoyed thoroughly) , so my hopes were high. we ordered hbo just in time -and specifically- to watch the series.

there are a few historical events that never cease to drive my interest, regardless of the amount of material i consume concerning the subject. the civil war, the life and assassination of abraham lincoln, jfk's assassination, the mafia in its heyday, and the tale of the american indian are a few of these subjects. world war two is another.

i've been to new orleans several times, and one of the coolest things i've seen there is the national d-day museum. this museum is also a project headed by ambrose, hanks, and spielberg. i even watched the grand opening ceremonies on c-span since my interest was so keen. i ultimately went to the museum with neil and brian. we spent several hours in the museum and saw everything from a sherman tank to an authentic army issue chocolate bar. i hope to return soon, as the museum is now home to a huge collection documenting the war in the pacific, as well as that in europe.

"band of brothers" is a fantastic series. it is also a wonderful book -written by stephen ambrose. i rewatched it this past sunday night and monday morning. the series follows easy company of the 101st airborne from basic training in georgia to normandy on d-day to holland to bastogne to the battle of the bulge in the ardennes to hitler's eagle nest in berchtesgaden. that's close to everywhere in the european theater, and they were there. it is a story of heroism, cowardice, bravery, failure, victory, and death. ambrose pulls no punches in the telling, and it is capable of being pretty brutal.

perhaps the context of watching this story unfold on memorial day caused me to see it in a different light. my depth of respect and admiration for those who have lived or died in our military is without bounds. i also think every right thinking person is a pacifist. who in their right mind would desire death and destruction over harmony? i think none. i believe those who provoke or incite anger, confrontation, or violence are mad. watching the boys in this reenactment being destroyed mentally and physically was quite unsettling.

it reminded me of a situation involving robert e lee. on a hilltop watching the gruesome battle of fredericksburg, he remarked, "it is well that war is so terrible, we should become too fond of it." i don't understand enough to know what would cause one to become fond of this kind of endeavor; but, i do believe his assessment of the nature of war is apt.

it is interesting to note that the presidential address given on the first memorial day was given at arlington national cemetery by james garfield. the site of this famous cemetery was once the property of robert e lee. his home was overrun by union soldiers during the war, and the vindictive general meigs turned the property surrounding arlington house into a national cemetery with the sole intent of robbing lee of his family home. robert e lee never returned to his estate in arlington.

declaration of interdependence

2006-05-29T20:23:00.000-05:00

this morning, jackson and i watched the national lacrosse championship game between umass and uva. i can define my lacrosse knowledge in two statements: "you have to run around too much, just like in soccer" and "jim brown was the greatest lacrosse player, ever."

unlike soccer, lacrosse players are frequently rewarded with goals. i think the score of this game(match?) was 17-5. it would take a month and a half for the average soccer team to score 17 times. although i know very little about the game, it was fun to be a spectator for a little while.

the most interesting things about the match were observations made by the commentators. they were comparing the two teams...the nature of their teams cultures, their program histories, and their paths to the championship game. massachusetts and virginia. being a history nerd, the first thing that came to my mind was adams and jefferson. the longer the commentators spoke, the deeper i slid into the metaphor.

the university of massachusetts is a public university available to all those who desire to attend. the university of virginia is also a public university; but, it is widely regarded as the finest public university in the united states and is correspondingly selective in its acceptance of applicants.

the players on the virginia team are elite student athletes. they are attending one of the prestigious universities in the nation, living lives of leisure on scholarship, while preparing for lives as attorneys and doctors. surely, some of these descriptions apply to the players at umass, but they consider themselves to be "blue collar" guys. i'm sure the cavaliers have never worn blue collars.

the umass team were huge underdogs, and unknowns in the championship this year. uva is one of the storied lacrosse programs in the nation with a long history of preeminence. this year, they are undefeated, and have been ranked # 1 all year.

following suit- as the allegory goes-the privileged boys from virginia demolished the upstart workers from massachusetts. some things remain the same.

p.s. yes, i know adams defeated jefferson in '96; but, from then on it has been all jefferson...even when it was not true or deserved. from friends to rivals and back, the two of them have been forever linked in history.

44 long? isn't that a deep jumper from jerry west?

2006-05-29T19:27:00.000-05:00

the first time i ever wore a suit was just before i moved away from home. i was 19 years old, and mom and dad bought me two suits to be worn on my mission. i remember thinking how mature i was because i owned a suit of clothes. that sweet suit quickly evolved into a rotting albatross tied around my neck.

when we went to salt lake city, kramer took us to a mall and i came face to face with a good source of lasting comedy. there i found a store selling Mr. Mack brand suits. apparently mr. mack is all the rage in the mission field for a couple of reasons. they are made for missionaries. they are made of a very durable material designed to withstand the wear and tear specific to spending hours a day on a bicycle seat. they also appeared to be flame-retardant, though i'm not sure when that would come in handy on a full-time mission. most notably, these particular suits are all three-piece suits, though not a traditional three pieces. they come with one suit coat, and two pairs of slacks. now that is classy and practical. what a deal. was i ever glad we had made suit purchases prior to leaving home? a kid from rural hays county, texas can recognize cow manure from quite a distance.

i spent two years in phoenix, arizona. most full-time missionaries world-wide will wear a suit all day, every day for most of the year. in the valley of the sun - where i experienced temperatures up to 122 degrees - we were given the option of leaving the suit coat in the closet from easter to halloween. this does not include sundays, when suit were required. i was lucky enough to have arrived in arizona on 19 october, when the daytime temperature still eclipsed 100 degrees. i was pleased because the suit -wearing time of the year was upon us. i quickly got my fill.

after getting to know the mission life, i soon realized that my sweet, brand new, carefully chosen suits were not as cool as i had suspected. in the mission, what passed for stylish was a thrifter suit procured from a second-hand shop. if your suit was acquired for less than 10$, this added quality to the recycled wool hanging on your shoulders. if your suit had been found in a cool locale, you were set..."yeah, i found this in a catholic resale shop in south phoenix (or ouray, or window rock, or wherever.)" it was a dry cleanable version of hotel luggage stickers. one could "brag" about one's mission travels just by dropping the location of the thrift shop from which one's suit originated. the highlight acquisition of my mission was a forest green, checked hart shaffner and marx i found in durango, colorado. let me assure you that it was fabulous. as it was quite the attention getter, it was not wholly appropriate for daily wear. i only broke it out for special occasions. i am not sure what ever came of that beauty..i think neil may have taken it to portugal.

after two years of toting around the extra weight of a suit coat; i swore them off, forever. i am fortunate that i work in a business, where suits are not only not required, wearing one would be ridiculous. as such, i have been able to fulfill my suitless desires for the better part of 16 years. i wore one as a pall bearer at my uncle billy ray's funeral. that was only out of respect for the man. i have worn tuxedo's on several instances since my oath's inception out of respect for the occasion...and fear of my wife. all this is about to change.

today, i had the adventure of purchasing a suit of clothes. my first try didn't go very well. we went into dillard's. i tried to casually inspect their offerings; but, when i was approached by a salesman, i had a minor panic attack and bolted. we got in the car and drove around the block. we didn't return to the same parking spot, but we did return to the same mall. this time we decided to try foley's. charlotte and jackson gave me some room to breathe, and i mustered up the gravitas needed to ask for help from a salesman. he quickly sized me and made a recommendation based on my meager needs. i even pressed myself into calling charlotte over for an opinion - she was a little put out over the earlier departure. 10 minutes later, we were out the door, with the offending garment discreetly cloaked in a plastic bag.

i'm not sure what to do with it now.

practically unthinkable

2006-05-14T19:35:00.000-05:00

a few years ago, jman spent the weekend with my sister and her family. for some reason, neither charlotte nor myself were able to go with him; so, my parents took him to visit. it may have been ethan's birthday...maybe it was just a random visit. sometime that weekend, jman was introduced to the story of titanic. i think he saw a television program. he told me that after watching that first show he thought, "oh man! i need to learn more about that." when he came home at the end of the weekend, he asked me if i knew about titanic. after answering in the affirmative, he blurted out to me, "why didn't you tell me?" i didn't have a good answer.

i have been interested in the story of titanic for a very long time. it is a story of superlatives. words such as wealthiest, bravest, most opulent, premier, selfless, and heroic find their way into the story on many occasions. unfortunately, so do poorest, cowardice, shame, arrogance, catastrophic, and failure. its name is one that almost everyone knows. it is not the deepest shipwreck, nor is it the foundering that took the greatest number of lives. nevertheless, this is the story that remains brightest in our consciousness because of the grandeur of the ship, the romance of the era, and the idea that although it was branded "practically unsinkable," titanic went to the bottom of the atlantic only 5 days into its initial journey.

by the way, don't even get me started on that piece of crap movie. and if you start to hum that song, i may pour liquid metal into my ears.

last summer, our family went to las vegas. charlotte was going to a convention, and jackson and i went along for the ride. charlotte was scrapbooking, but all i was thinking about was las vegas and the freaking mirage. the mirage is a lovely hotel. we really enjoyed our stay there. we also went to a show at the luxor. we ate dinner at ceasar's palace, the bellagio, and the venetian; but, the highlight of the trip took place at a seedy old-school hotel called the tropicana. last summer, the tropicana hosted a titanic artifacts exhibit. one evening, we walked from the mirage down to the tropicana and took the tour. it was self-guided, and for 25 dollars each, we were able to walk through this collection of materials gathered after nearly 100 years at the ocean's bottom. we saw clothing, personal letters, parts of the ship itself, china, deck chairs, and life belts. the final room (well, the one prior to the gift shop) held the largest piece of the wreckage ever brought to the surface. it is enormous. as such, it has been named "the big piece." it is a 25 x 15 piece of steel, complete with rivets and portholes. there is a photo of the titanic next to the "big piece" which truly gives one an idea of how titanic titanic really was. the "big piece" is highlighted, shown in its original position on the ship - it is a speck in the view of the whole. upon entering the exhibit, each visitor is given a boarding pass similar to those given the actual passengers. on the back of each pass is the name of a titanic passenger or crew member. also included are vital information about "your" individual...age, class of ticket purchased, family, home, occupation, destination in the united states. near the end of the tour, one of the rooms displays the names of each passenger and crew member on titanic's initial voyage. the names are divide into groupings under the following parameters: "passenger or crew"; "1st class, 2nd class, steerage"; and, finally "survivor or lost." one would find the name of the individual indicated on the boarding pass and find that name on the wall. it was kind of a gimmick, but it gave a bit of a personal touch to the viewing of the artifacts. charlotte and jackson survived. i didn't. it was a really great show and well worth the price.

jackson's interest in titanic has never waned. if anything, it has grown. as i write this, he is watching a documentary of a series of dives to the wreckage site. we have seen many of these documentaries over the years. he has a nice little library of titanic books. most are picture books, but a few are chapter books...both fiction and non-fiction. he was given a model of titanic as a gift, which he loves. did i mention that this past april 15th, we had a titanic party at our house. we had cake and explored an awesome and comprehensive titanic cd-rom. that cd is really cool.

he really has forgotten more about titanic than most people know.

the rebirth of slick

2006-05-12T16:03:00.000-05:00

each may the pga tour makes its customary stop at the colonial country club in fort worth. for the past 10 or so years, neil, brian and i have gone to the tournament together. it is a "real" golf course. the players there have to play the course. often enough these days, they can just whip out their drivers on every hole and bang away. colonial doesn't forgive that kind of approach for more than the first 2 holes. from there on in, you had better be able to golf your ball if you want to be around sunday afternoon. it is the tournament made famous by ben hogan. the sentimental call it hogan's alley because he won this particular tournament so often. of course, there are two or three other courses which dub themselves hogan's alley, so you can readily see that the hawk really got around. colonial also has a non-circus feeling because eldrick never plays. he is too busy getting 2 million dollar appearance fees from the wonderful golf benefactors of dubai. bully for us.

this year, i am unable to attend. seminary graduation is the same night, and i really have to be there. instead of going to, or watching the tournament, i'll just have to relive some of the great moments from my past adventures there. i loved finding nick faldo on the practice green an hour after his sunday round was over. just getting a feel for the greens for next year, i guess. i thought mark brooks' head was going to catch fire after watching him take a 5 on the par three 4th. one year, brian was commenting on how i can always be counted on to underdress. t-shirt, shorts, and tennis shoes are as dressed as i get on the weekend...or weekday. neil came to my defense and said that it didn't matter how much money i made, i would always dress like i didn't have any. thanks.

i am much more interested in comfort. i enjoy dressing like a third grader...and it works for me. on my first date with my wife-to-be i dressed in a long sleeve white t-shirt, old baggy jeans, and flip flops. as she was used to dating guys who crease their jeans, i looked uber cool. unfortunately, familiarity breeds contempt.

at my 10 year high school reunion, some of us were looking at an old year book, and the subject turned to the "best" and "most" designations from our senior year. kenny lancaster reminded me that i had been voted "best dressed." charlotte refused to believe it until she saw for herself in the pages of the annual. after seeing my picture under the aforementioned heading, she turned to me, looked at me from head to toe, and asked, "what happened?" NICE.

the congressional medal of ugly

2006-04-30T13:17:00.000-05:00

yesterday, i had a short little break from work, and decided to drive down to the bicycle sport shop to pick up some new grips. as i drove down the hill at lamar and 3rd, i noticed a little bird on the street. there are all manner of birds living under the overpass here, and they are often in the street, so i didn't pay much attention to it until i got very close. it was then that i noticed that it had been hit by a car and was struggling to walk over to the curb. it was pathetic to see it in this disfigured state trying to get its body to perform a simple function. by the time my brain had registered what had happened, and that there was no chance it would recover, i had already passed. when i got up to barton springs and couldn't stand the thought of this little bird dying a slow death; i decided to drive back and run it over with my tire, so as to end its suffering quickly. by the time i got back to the place where i had seen the bird, it was already dead.

i never got my grips.

several years ago, charlotte and i were driving two cars from wimberley to san marcos. who knows why? too often, we are stuck with two vehicles because we have met somewhere. this is one of the downsides of being part of the long-distance commuting community. anyway, i was following her when we approached the city limits of san marcos. out of the woods on the left, came a deer bounding across ranch road 12. she didn't hit the deer as much as it ran into the side of her car. we both stopped, and she got out of the car crying. for receiving what i thought to be a glancing blow, this poor thing was really messed up. i told charlotte to drive to her parents house and i would take care of calling the sherrif's department. after she left -thankfully- the deer tried to get up and run off. it looked alot like the bird did yesterday. it would no more stand up before it fell. it was bleeding from every body opening. after watching it blow blood bubbles out of its mouth for a minute, i decided to put it out of its misery. it was one of the hardest things i had done, but i drove my car over the deer's neck. i assume it broke the neck, and killed it instantly, but i didn't looks back to see.

i don't know why a suffering animal disturbs me so much, but i can't stand it. i don't know whether my actions are humanitarian or cruel, but i left those settings feeling more at peace knowing that the injured animal was no longer in pain.

here's hoping i'm not around if you ever are the recipient of a grievous injury.

innocent critters squashed on the highway of life

2006-04-25T20:11:00.000-05:00

for the next three days, jackson and i are on our own. charlotte has gone to her annual texas librarian's association conference. the location of the conference changes each year. generally the rotation includes austin, san antonio, dallas, and this year's winner - houston. she always goes with the same three girls. norma, kay, and someone else. i can't remember the other lady's name.

so far, we have had a pretty uneventful start to the bachelorosity. jackson didn't want to go out to eat or go to the river. he wanted to go straight home. this kid is the biggest homebody. he just loves to be here. we have a lot of land on which to play, he has every toy ever made, and he loves to play with our dogs...come to think of it, there is no reason to go anywhere else. i on the other hand, get much too restless at home for too long of a period. he takes after his mother.

the highlight of the evening is going to be our watching "fandango." i first started watching "fandango" with neil and brian, a long time ago. i've seen it so many times that i couldn't possibly begin to estimate a number. of course, one of the priorities when jackson was born was to begin indoctrinating him into the ways of the groover. he loves it, and will even break out with a quote if the timing is appropriate. sometimes he will give charlotte a hard time by suggesting that they are going to watch this as their midnight movie. charlotte doesn't love it as much as we do and has even developed a mechanism that limits the number of times she can see it in a month before tiring of the movie. how unfortunate. she told me the other day that fandango isn't necessarily a "kid movie." what in the world is that supposed to mean? i mean other than the odd curse word, the rampant drinking, the repeated "moonings", and the nonvirtuous pursuit of women? i think she's being a little picky.

a couple of years ago, jackson and i took a camping trip to big bend national park. we had a fantastic time with david and drew. on the way home, j and i took a detour in order to visit some of the places where the filming of "fandango" took place. most of these places are in the near vicinity of the big bend, so we got them all done in one day. it was a good day, highlighted by our visit to the "dom" rock. one day, i'm sure we'll go again, maybe we'll save room for you in the car.

beauty is in the eye of ME

2006-04-18T20:57:00.000-05:00

Cinematography: The art or technique of movie photography, including both the shooting and development of the film.

iover the years, i have created a list of the three most beautiful movies i have seen. i am not meaning in sentimentality, depth of meaning, or capacity for inspiration. i simply mean in terms of containing the most beautiful scenery from beginning to end. by coincidence, two of the three were on television tonight, and i found myself flipping back and forth in an attempt to watch both. needless to say, all i accomplished was that i saw little of either.

it was a senseless exercise from its inception as i own all three movies on dvd, and could watch them continuously for a month if i so desired. somehow, coming upon a loved movie by happenstance creates a feeling of excitement not present when i merely scan through my home selections; instead, it is as if providence were reaching out when i accidentally find it beamed to me from the archives at hbo.

in addition to being unsurpassed in their collection of resplendent scenery and being three of my favorite movies; each contains timeless wisdom in its dialogue that speaks to me.

here are my three, in the order in which i found them:

a river runs through it - "It is those we live with and love and should know who elude us. "

the last of the mohicans - "Don't try to understand them; and don't try to make them understand you."

the edge - "What one man can do, another can do." and " We're all put to the test... but it never comes in the form or at the point we would prefer, does it?"

watch them for yourself. if you are not drawn by the wonderful storylines of survival, hope, and renewal; perhaps you will be by the rich and descriptive dialogue. barring that, i find it inconceivable that you can remain unmoved by the unmatched beauty of the wildernesses in which these three stories occur.

happy watching.

my lyin' eyes

2006-04-11T10:21:00.000-05:00

i went to play golf yesterday. as is often the case, i went at the spur of the moment, and was on a very limited time schedule. so far this doesn't sound like much of a formula for success, but i went anyway. i ended up at hancock golf course. hancock was built in 1899, and is recognized as the oldest golf course in the state of texas. originally consisting of 18 holes, hancock is the site of the original austin country club. harvey penick learned to caddy, play, teach, and coach right here. the north half of the course was sold to developers when the second acc was built in 1949.

today the course is a short, nine-hole push-over frequented by college students, old-timers, and people with limited time. it is the place where i learned to play golf. for a couple of years -right after i started playing- i was at hancock 4 or 5 days a week. it's really not much, but it is familiar and fun.

while i was playing 3 and 4, i saw a high school age kid meandering along the treeline that divides the 2nd fairway from the creek. since it was 9:00 in the morning, i figured he was skipping school in pursuit of trouble, golf balls or chicks. it was odd that i think i heard him shriek. then again, maybe that was just my imagination. either way, i had my eye on him...not because i thought anything untoward was going to happen, he just had my attention.

as i approached the 5th tee, i got a look at what he was really waiting for. a young girl was walking across the street from the private school which was built on the former back nine. i thought, "typical kids" and stopped paying attention to them while i played my ball off the tee. as i looked up from retrieving my bag, i noticed that they were deep in the throes of embrace. they were over 70 yards away, so i didn't pay them much mind. i thought it really lame of them to be skipping school to hug in the middle of a golf course. i considered that the "i love you's " of the adolescent are so lame...simplistic, ignorant, and vapid. don't worry. i know that of which i speak. sadly, i seem to remember participating in some of this foolishness when i was a youth. looking back, it is shameful to say so much to someone you hardly even know. especially, in that, at this age, one can hardly know one's self. as i got closer i became aware that this young girl was weeping. bitterly. her male friend was holding her up as much as he was comforting her. just as i realized what was happening, he caught my eye; and, i looked away, ashamed of my intrusion. that is how quickly it changed. i went from disdain and derision to compassion and empathy in an instant.

who knows but that her problems are nowhere near worthy of her reaction? after all, she is a teenage girl, and these have been known to overreact on occasion. perhaps her sorrow is the natural consequence due to her own actions. perhaps she is dealing with problems and sorrows i can not fathom. who knows? nevertheless, i am so sensitive to the feelings of others that i was moved.

i also reflected on a few other things. how easily can we misunderstand and judge others with little to no information? too often, is my experience. how sad that this lesson is so difficult to grasp.

it reminded me of the time i was playing this same hole and a homeless man was walking towards me. i steeled myself for the inevitable monetary request until i realized that the "homeless" guy was my good friend ron who is quite wealthy. he just looks homeless out of personal choice. see. i told you i am a slow learner when it comes to judging a cover.

it also made me realize that in not too many years, jackson will be a teenage boy living a life i know nothing of. girls, friends, problems, college, skipping school. these are all things he may rather share in the middle of the golf course than with me or his mother. i know it, because this is how i was. it breaks my heart to think of him crying out of desperation or sadness, and deciding that some dumb kid can help him more that we. maybe he will be more mature than i, and will be able to discuss things with us. maybe we will give him the skills and direction necessary to avoid the more seemingly devastating things so many kids deal with.

here's hoping we will be up to the challenge of teaching him the things we know and giving him the opportunities needed to learn the rest. my awareness of parenthood's ubiquity is renewed and expanded...at least until the next time i realize that i am still behind the curve.

whassup with the shirt?

2006-04-05T16:03:00.000-05:00

i do believe that i forgot to mention the fact that i may be turning into a woman.

a couple of weeks ago, i was up late and found myself watching the dallas cowboys cheerleader tryouts on cmt. if this sounds masculine just because the show featured alot of hot women jumping and spinning around for two hours, that's where you would be correct. on the other hand, the main point the show was trying to convey was that the emotions and stress these women endure in order to "put on the most special uniform in the world." i didn't get caught up in the "emotional rollercoaster" but did have a good time laughing at how sad the whole process is. charlotte couldn't believe i was watching such crap until she realized that she was engrossed as well.

now for the really alarming development. last tuesday i was extremely sick. i didn't get out of bed for much of anything. to make matters worse, there was not much on television, and i didn't want to get up to choose a dvd. what was that song bruce sang about something like 67 channels? well, i was living it. i ended up watching -here it comes- an hbo special about the usa women's soccer team. i had heard of these women, and even knew a few of their names( who can forget that nike commercial with kg and brandi chastain? classic.) check it out-
http://www.foosballheaven.com/mov/nikebrandigarnett.mov

nevertheless, i am a bit of a sports misogynist, so i had never seen anything any of them had done. this was a two hour show about the history of the team from 1991 or so until 2005 when the last of the old-timers retired (mia hamm and two other chicks i can't remember.)

it was a compelling story...starting with no money or support from the us soccer federation, very little to no fan support, and your typical spattering of "human interest" stories. in the end, they were the best in the world and selling out 75,000 seat football stadiums. somewhere along the way, i got caught up in the story and it got pretty emotional. i was really grateful no one else was home.

i like to think it was a near overdose of benadryl that caused my temporary chick-osity. barring that, i guess i need to find out when oprah is on. excuse me, i think i need to vomit after writing that last.

1/2 shining moment

2006-04-04T21:52:00.000-05:00

so, last night was the national championship of ncaa men's basketball. ucla and florida were pitted in a matchup of non-historic proportions. the famous fathers of the florida gator players provided a more compelling storyline than did the team, itself. likewise, the stellar ucla alumni in the audience created more excitement than the actual bruins. such is life. no matter how i love college basketball, i couldn't compel myself to stay awake much past halftime. the main reason is that i am old, and i had to awaken at 5 in the morning; the other reason is that i could smell a rout, and in a game of relative unknowns about whom i have little interest, this provided no late-night incentive.

there was a time when i missed almost no part of the tournament. i would skip school, stay up late for the highlights, and find any way possible to see game footage and written descriptions of all things ncaa tournament. i knew the first 7 or 8 players on all the major teams, and could tell you something about nearly every team in the tournament that had any chance whatsoever of making the final weekend. those days are long past. shoot, i didn't even fill out a bracket this year.

it isn't that i don't care. the tournament still provides some of the most riveting contests of any sport going today. i just have too many other things occupying my mind, now.

there are alot of years of my life that i remember based on who won the tournament in that given year. i could rattle off the champs from '76-'93 without skipping a beat (actually i could go back to the early sixties. prior to iu in '76, you had ucla forever with a nc state and a texas western thrown in for variety.) those were the years ('76-'93) ranging from when i became aware until i got married. not that i blame my loss of watching time and interest on my lovely wife. well, not exactly. it's just that at some point around '93 or '4 it became less important to watch college hoop all week long for 4 months. perhaps this is one way that i can see some semblance of having begun to grow up. well, it's either that or another on the list of things i love which have been arbitrarily cast aside. same thing i guess. it's just a matter of how you want to look at it. i prefer the former.

besides, there's always next year.

p.s. the unlv runnin' rebels from 1989-1991 are still the best team i have ever seen.

opening day

2006-04-03T17:32:00.000-05:00

today was the first day of swimming lessons. as i, of course, know how to swim quite well; i am meaning lessons for jackson.

this is the 3rd year of lessons for him. just after he turned four, we decided it was past time for him to have some official swimming lessons. through some of our west austin crowd friends, we had heard of ms. debbie. ms. debbie has given swimming lessons out of her home swimming pool for 28 years, and is the person to see when you need to be seen. nevertheless, we decided to hire her. i think our decision was based heavily on the fact that jackson's friend william was going to be attending a class at the same time. semi-private swim lessons on mt. barker road do not come easily. for just over 4 times the going rate at the city rec center, we secured a spot in her upcoming summer program. i'm surprised we were able to sneak into the neighborhood driving a bourgeois car like a honda.

as it turned out, ms. debbie is a fantastic teacher, and jackson loves her classes. we have not ever regretted the ridiculous cost of his lessons...well, almost never. he was "swimming" after only the first week, and i was duly impressed. each session has been very productive, and jackson really looks forward to the first of april when the spring swim season begins. this has paid off enormously because one of my favorite things to do is swim, and i love swimming with the j-man.

although this experiment in west austin private lessons has been a resounding success, we need to get jackson back to san marcos before he wants to learn something really expensive. like golf, or equestrian pursuits.

responsibility cluster

2006-04-03T17:25:00.000-05:00

i have noticed that my writings have become fewer and more sporadic. my life has become unabashedly hectic as of late, and i have been unwilling to find the little amount of time it would require to compose the few musings needed to placate my needs. well, here's hoping the gridlock will loosen its grasp.

Saaaaaaaaaaa-lute

2006-03-25T18:01:00.000-06:00

RIP
Buck Owens
12 august 1929 - 25 march 2006

i remember buck owens from as far back as i remember. my dad loved to watch "hee-haw", and buck was still putting out hits in the 70's. i guess the song i most identified with him was "streets of bakersfield."

when i was 21, a friend and i went to california for a week. we finished the week by visiting kim and jeannie jensen, who were living in bakersfield. after dinner, everyone went to sleep while i stayed up alone. i put on my walkman and went out into the night for the proverbial walk. in retrospect, it was really quite uneventful and anti-climactic; but, nevertheless, i had done what i had set out to do. i don't know what it is in me that creates this desire to do these kind of pilgrimage-type activities. for some reason, these kind of things keep popping up in my vacations...both realized and anticipated.

some years later, dwight yoakam coaxed buck out of his self-imposed banishment long enough to record a new version of "streets of bakersfield." it was fantastic. not only did it join the talents of two of my favorite singers, it was different. dwight and buck had added accordions and a cumbia drum beat to turn this bakersfield twang into a semi-tejano-sounding amalgam. i loved it. buck became relevant once more, and all was well.

a couple of years ago, i put together a cd containing alot of buck's best music. the biggest motivator was my own desire to have his music constantly ready for use. i have to admit that the other reason was so that i could introduce his music into the consciousness of my son. he had already rejected sinatra, so i figured i would try to lead him to my second favorite musician. if you can't brainwash your own son, what's the point of being smarter than he?

as it turns out, jackson loves buck owens and the buckaroos. we sing along together, and laugh at buck's silly songs. j's favorite is "cigareets, whisky, and wild, wild women." early in his buck-listening career, we were all riding in the car together, while listening to buck's greatest. after the previous two stories, it should be obvious that we were listening to "streets of bakersfield." just as buck tells us that he's "spent a thousand miles a thumbin' ," jackson popped his own thumb out of its customary place in his mouth, and declared, " hey! just like me!" in that moment, the circular nature of the universe opened a bit in my eyes. way to go, buck. thanks man. we will miss you.

tradition, your mama! tradition!

2006-03-17T22:00:00.000-06:00

we just got home from a week's trip to walt disney world. i do mean "just" - as in 30 minutes ago. after so many months of writing on this thing, i can't believe i have yet to write about this obsession of ours. i'll have to remedy that at a later date.

for some reason, a trip to walt disney world results in my bringing home -essentially- the same souvenir: books.

the first year we went, i bought a beautiful 400-page sinatra biography written by frank's daughter, nancy. yes, she is the one with the laughing face. what it lacked in objectivity (alot), it gained in access (total.) i still love that book. and for 50 bucks it had better be prepared to be loved long time.

well, today i came home with the 30th anniversary edition of "the princess bride." i've seen it 100 times, but never read it. thank you epcot uk. my other acquisition is "ghosts of tsavo" by philip caputo. any self-respecting cast member in the harambe village of animal kingdom will know that these man-eating lions were the focus of the movie "the ghost and the darkness."

i still have yet to begin the crazy horse biography i picked up at wdw in december.

it's a strange tradition, but maybe no stranger than the next.

"ingredients for life", my butt!

2006-03-06T20:22:00.000-06:00

right now i have a problem with randalls. what in the world is wrong with this place?

when i need groceries, i choose heb to fulfill my shopping needs. convenience, semi-consistent marketing structure, and "low price champion" are all i'm looking for in a grocer. heb fills these criteria quite sufficiently. plus they are a texas-owned company.

today, i experienced my latest (and last) excursion to randalls. charlotte was in need of some items for her office, and i volunteered to go to randalls for her as randalls is just across the street. when i located the two items for which i was seeking, i noticed that they were overpriced in the way that one would expect to find in post-communist russia. then to really, tick me off; they offer a "remarkable" price for the people who shop in the store often enough to register with the randalls bureaucracy in order to receive a western-hemisphere-style price point (point in fact: the "remarkable price" was only remarkable in that it was super-inflated when compared to heb's prices for the same product.)

this is -in my opinion- a load of crap. look, you have a product; i need a product; just let me buy the thing without you gouging me all the way down lamar boulevard.

farewell, randalls. i hardly knew ye.

go back to houston

2006-03-01T21:14:00.000-06:00

this past saturday was jackson's birthday party. it was an extremely full day for him, as he had a glow-bowl birthday party in the morning followed by a basketball game and trophy presentation in the early afternoon. a tradition has arisen wherein we have an extended-family gathering at the salt lick every year on the date of jackson's party. obviously we go to the real salt lick...not that poser wannabe version in westlake.

i think i have been going to the salt lick for as long as i have been alive. even though we lived in colorado for several years when i was a little kid, we were in driftwood every summer with barbecue sauce dripping down our chins and wrists. the reunion was what brought us to town every year, so we wouldn't even bother wiping the sauce off of our bodies; we would just run across the road and jump in onion creek. can you remember when onion creek was filled with water?

in those days, the salt lick was only open friday, saturday, and sunday. there were usually not very many people in the restaurant, and i can remember playing tag in the main dining hall with my siblings and cousins without causing much of a disturbance. there was only one building out there (unless you count the eyesore that is now thurman's mansion; but, it was not used in any way.) if you ordered a coke, it was served in a glass bottle. there were no refills, there were only additional purchases. just like today, the water tasted like it was drawn from the bottom of the creek in a bucket.

before the space inside the building became a premium, there would often be a fire in the fireplace on a cold night. maybe they still do that, but i haven't seen one in about 10 years. they used to hire a musician to play the guitar and sing right in the main room. he/she set up right in front of the fireplace. i used to really like to go out there on a winter's night. now they have some barefoot jimmy buffet wannabe warbling and fumbling out in the gravelled waiting area.

on one of our first dates, charlotte took me out there because she found out how much i loved the place. since she was "taking me" i didn't even think to bring any money. after our meal, i answered in the affirmative when our server asked if we wanted some cobbler. little did i know that charlotte only had 20 dollars, and she was sweating it out. they still don't take cards or checks; and back then, they didn't even have an atm. when our check came, the total was about 23 dollars. this is when she let me in on her little secret. i calmly perused our check just to ensure that it was correct, while charlotte sweated out enough bullets for the both of us. i discovered that the waitress had given us the wrong ticket, and our total was only $18.50. i can't believe it was ever possible to get out of there for less than 20 bucks. good luck with that today.

one of my favorite things that i've seen out there was the time we walked out of the restaurant to find a little boy with his pants and briefs down around his ankles while he was adjusting the ph levels in the fish pond. that is classic driftwood.

we have always preferred to sit on the patio of the old building. in fact, when we are in a small group, we will let others pass us on the wait list until we get the table we want. in the old building; the smell of the pit is overwhelming; you can easily see the effects of 37 years of smoke finding its way onto the surface of limestone; and the residue of decades of barbecue sauce, cobbler juice, beans, smoke, and spilled coke have created a glorious layer of salt lick scum that coats the tables. try scraping a finger nail softly across the table and see what you get...if you dare.

mostly i love the patio because it reminds me of the salt lick of my youth. this is where we always sat, and when we're sitting out there, it looks pretty much just like the old place i grew up with. but this is not the old place, not by any stretch. they are open every day now, there are 5 buildings out there, the coke they serve is the same old over-syruped crap you get out of a fountain, and they have got off-duty barney fife out there "directing" traffic. you can order their sauce on-line, buy a t-shirt, or mail order a pound of brisket and have it sent to the other side of the world. i guess this is progress, and it is great for the roberts'; but, you know me, i like it the way i like it.

it goes without saying that i can't wait to go back.

o-fer no more

2006-02-19T18:34:00.000-06:00

coach shelton always had good advice. i'm talking about little shelton, not big shelton. big shelton was always cool with me ; but, little shelton was a much more genial guy and more free with his personality. since he was my track coach as well as my football coach, i spent more than twice as much time getting to know him and letting him get to know me.

he often gave pep talks that involved some version of the following: when you win, you have all week to think about how great you played...your food tastes better, the air smells cleaner, you'll sleep better, and...the fourth superlative he frequently used had to do with one's girlfriend being more enjoyable...so to speak. as it turned out, coach shelton was a prognosticator of formidable skills. the week following a win was always a whole lot more fun than those other weeks. even practice was agreeable.

in contrast, EVERYTHING about losing sucks. sportsmanship and "doing my best" are nice sentiments, but nothing replaces going home with a "w."

i have been fortunate to have usually been on teams that won alot. often enough my contribution was not the main cause of our success, but i have always been able to feel like a vital part of the fun of winning. unfortunately, this year's church basketball team is one of the worst teams (in any sport) with which i've ever been associated.

most of the players are new to playing with each other. there is almost no chemistry. adding to the lack of chemistry is the fact that we have a rotating group of players, with no two consecutive games constructed of like personnel. all of these guys know how to shoot and dribble (more or less) but there is alot more to basketball than these basic abilities. we have more talent than alot of the other teams but this fact has not prevented us from losing every game...until tonight.

the fact that we beat the worst team in the league only matters because it confirms that we are not the worst team in austin. this is a better feeling than it should be. whereas we usually leave the gym seperately, and quickly following a loss; tonight, we stood around chatting with each other for a few minutes. there were even a few smiles present. i know what you're thinking... it IS sad what i've become in my old age.

i only wish i still had a girlfriend.

do you remember the SAT?

2006-02-14T20:55:00.000-06:00

valentine's day is to love, as new year's day is to drinking alcohol...

AMATEUR NIGHT!

happy valentine's day, nonetheless.

marathon kids

2006-02-13T08:05:00.000-06:00

i believe satchel paige was on to something when he said, "avoid running at all times." not everyone is willing to follow with exactness. obviously, playing any sport will require running, as does being the parent of a 5 year-old. jackson has always got me running somewhere.

judging by the abundance of over-weight and obese americans, satchel paige's mantra must be the most revered in the country.

what i don't care for is the endless pursuit of minutes and miles that dominates the running world. not only do i not have the feet for this kind of activity, i never have been able to abide the monotony. jackson, on the other hand, has recently completed a marathon.

in 1996, a friend of mine named kay morris started a children's running program. over the course of 6 months, or so, k - 5th grade-age children will run 26 miles during their p.e. class or during recess. at the end of the program, all of the kids get together to run the final 1/4 mile as a group and receive recognition. the first year, kay went to runtex for sponsorship. when asked, she said she expected to have 300 to 400 children participate in the program. it was only available in the austin isd. 3000 participated. this year is the tenth year of marathon kids, and in the austin area alone, 40,000 elementary students participated. marathon kids is now all over the state and country...all because kay thought kids needed to get a reinforced message that it is not hard to get off of their butts and do something..

jackson and his friends love running. they talk about their laps all the time, and they wear the bracelets they receive as progress markers. it is an amazing thing to watch as these kids see themselves accomplish something so enormous, and realize that nothing is beyond the reach of a person with enough patience and determination. thanks, kay.

after we finished jackson's final lap, i sought out my friend kay. this was no minor task, as the football field and track were swarming with people. i found her in the middle of a television interview. she was being interviewed by a reporter from cnn. after her time was up, i caught her attention so i could quickly tell her that jackson absolutely loves this program, and thank her for keeping it alive. she asked me if i wanted to say that on camera. ummm, no thanks. i gotta run.

and the cradle will rock

2006-02-07T14:26:00.000-06:00

one day, as mrs. armbruster was teaching our 8th grade english class; mr. brooks emerged from his history class in order to confer with her. i couldn't hear what was being said, but as she was listening; she was looking down at the desk of the student closest to her. our school desks in those days were made completely of wood. one could read all kinds of messages which had been left gouged into the surface by previous students. you might find out who loved whom, why someone sucked, or which team ruled. all of a sudden, mrs. armbruster's countenance darkened and she prepared to explode. she looked up, and with the threat of retribution in her voice, demanded to know which grade "van hallen" was in as someone had scratched into the desk surface the proposal that "van halen rules." we truthfully explained that none of us knew where "van hallen" could be found, and she vowed to "get to the bottom of this" matter.

20 years later, i got another dose of similar confusion.

jackson is experiencing some symptoms of asthma. i have had this disease for most of my life, and have unwittingly passed on the defective gene to my son. over night, he was having such difficulty, that we decided to have him use my albuterol inhaler. we took him to doctor duong yesterday and she promptly prescribed some medication for him. jackson informed us that she preferred him to use the nebulizer to get his medication, because it would be hard for him to effectively use a "van haler." i said "somebody get me a doctor."

as we left blockbuster today, j-man and i stopped at the curb, and checked the traffic. after looking both ways, jackson declared that we could go because the "ghost is clear." he was right...i couldn't see one either.

rockin' in the usa

2006-02-06T19:16:00.000-06:00

a couple of recent events have gotten me thinking about music from my teen years. alas, the actual music wasn't good enough to elicit anything more than the most superficial of thoughts.

the fields previously known as southpark meadows are forever gone. for reasons unknown to me, southpark has gone from popular to closed to resurrected and then into oblivion. when i was a kid, i went to a few concerts here...the cars, ub40, the police, wang chung. after the initial closing of the park; it reopened years later to host lollapalooza and similar music festivals. like most things, this space will now be the site of a strip mall. how trite and unimaginative. austin needs a new concert venue like southpark. the erwin center is nice, but it is too antiseptic. the back yard is supposed to be really cool, but i have never been in love with it. the places on campus are o.k., if not small. on the other hand, i may be getting too old for an outdoor concert. i need a place where i have a seat specifically for myself, and no one stands up for very long. sad, huh?

on the way home from work on saturday, klbj played a "miniset" from 1983. this is when i was a freshman in high school and it's amazing how i still remembered every word. here are the three songs:

1) "lick it up" by kiss - i actually saw this concert. the song, album and tour all shared the same name. it was pretty cool because the opening band was a little known band named motley crue.

2) "pride and joy" by stevie ray vaughn - i saw him a couple of times at aquafest. now, there's a music festival that was awesome. acl is cool, but aquafest always had better talent and felt less contrived.

3) "metal health" by quiet riot - hey, even i had more taste than to waste money on that concert. though, i did turn it way up and do my best ren mccormick impression.

a hopeful america, a better way, or a healthy helping of horse manure? you make the call.

2006-01-31T21:06:00.000-06:00

just finished watching the state of the union. here are a few observations:

i believe i just watched the president kiss governor kathleen blanco of louisiana. how can he be so cavalier? i hope he has had a recent tetanus booster.

the highlight of the event was when the camera was panning the audience and paused on john mccain.

speaking of the audience...what a bunch of duplicitous blow-hards. I can look at very few of these people without getting the immediate feeling that the said person is acting interested while secretly figuring new ways to screw me over.

I read that the president had his speech ready days before hand. it was set in stone and ready to go...no changes necessary. the pretense is that this administration is very organized and prepared. my impression is that this tactic displays the implacable nature of this president. "my course is set, and no external event can alter me from my chosen path." it is not encouraging to know that he won't be swayed be developing events.

oh yeah...he told us some of the same old news...received with thunderous applause. go figure.

the democratic response just finished. they're full of crap, too. thanks, but no thanks tim kaine.

he's cooler than you are

2006-01-31T09:19:00.000-06:00

my son is 5 years old, and i am becoming increasingly aware of the fact that he is not receiving an authentic kindergarten experience. this is the latest event to convince me of his departure from the norm:

yesterday, i spent the whole day volunteering in the library. charlotte was very busy and she had need of my help. after school was over, jackson asked if he could play with his friends for a while before he and i had to go. we were in no hurry, so i said it was fine. rather than walk out to the playground, i followed him to the front of the school where the sixth grade boys sit on picnic tables while waiting for their parents. jackson walked over and, to choruses of "jackson! what's up, man?"; he high fived most of the boys.

he went on to tell everyone it was time to play tag, set the rules, and change the rules mid-game to ensure his success. when it was time for us to go, he again made his rounds, and we hit he road.

of course, he benefits from having his very cool mom teach at the school. he also has a sixth-grade reading buddy who is very nice. but, he is not afraid to play with kids 6 years older than him. so, thank you michael, tat, chi, bat, matthew, and devin for playing with my kid and helping him to feel like the coolest kindergartener in the history of aisd.

i got your magic flute right here!

2006-01-27T21:39:00.000-06:00

although today is the 250th anniversary of his birth, i will not ruminate on my admiration for wolfgang amadeus mozart. i did that a couple of months ago on the 214th annivesary of his death. look back if you'd like. suffice it to say ,"happy birthday wolfy."

what do you TINK?

2006-01-27T21:03:00.000-06:00

i am running the men's basketball league at my church. when asked to take this responsibility, i accepted with not a speck of reservation. the league only lasts a couple of months, and i have played in dozens of hoop leagues, so i figured, "how hard can this be?" well, the answer is that it is not difficult in the slightest. it requires about 5 hours per week -all continuous- and little else...hanging out in the gym, but when was that ever a chore? creating a schedule for 10 teams turned out to be a bit more trouble than i had anticipated. i had to ensure that each team played every other team in the league, and then, only once. i also didn't want any teams burdened with always playing first, or last. the resulting exercise vaguely resembled su-doku; but, with one obvious difference: there was no answer page to which i could refer.

we are in the fourth week of the league, and everything is running very smoothly. be that as it may, unforeseen situations will always arise which require resolution. everyone looks to me, so i seem to be the final authority (sort of.) one such occasion presented itself last night.

a guy from one particular ward approached me with a question i misunderstood. this ward has a guy named percy playing with them. he is not a member of the church. i thought i was being asked if an investigator of the church could play on the team. i replied that in my opinion, this is one of the chief benefits of a church basketball league - to create relationships between the men of the church and those who have become estranged from the general membership or are investigating the possibility of conversion to the faith. after all, my parents joined the church after many experiences with lds athletic programs. this inquisitor must have been quite puzzled by my answer because he was asking me if the full-time missionaries could play on their team if an investigator would also be playing.

when i finally understood the question, i didn't have a clue what the answer was. i finally told the missionaries that if their playing would be allowed by the policies of their mission president then i saw nothing to prevent them. i was a little surprised to hear them answer in the affirmative.

it would have been folly to bother to ask my mission president the same. i have no doubt that president washburn would have answered negatively before i even got the question fully out of my mouth. first of all, the game didn't begin until 9:00, and i think missionaries are meant to be home by 9:00. secondly, missionaries need not be in any situation where bad feelings of contention could arise. anyone who has played church league basketball will readily testify that contention is in abundance at these games. i don't really need to mention the position that missionaries have more important things to do than play hoop in a league. it wasn't my place to say, but it seemed weird. i let them play.

now i'm not saying these guys tried to lead me astray. even if they did, i forgive them. if some kids want to play ball that badly; well, that much i can understand. i might have done the same.

the pathos less traveled

2006-01-24T21:55:00.000-06:00

the past few weekends we have been visiting charlotte's dad. he has lymphomic leukemia; and although he has been doing really well for the past 7 or 8 years, he is currently very ill. this is my first experience with md anderson cancer center in houston. i have always heard that they are the premier oncology experts in the world, and i hope this is the case. charles seems to be feeling better even if his kidneys are still not functioning and he isn't really getting better...yet.

sitting in the hospital for hours on end gives much time for reflection; and even as a visitor, i have had some time to remember and consider life.

on 13 august, 2004, i was involved in a fire. i was burned over half of my body, and spent a week at brook army medical center in san antonio. fortunately, we live very close to this world-renowned burn facility. fortunate for me because they are the best, and unless you really know where to look, and for what; most people would not be able to recognize any differences in my skin. it really is amazing. spending a week in the hospital is pretty grueling. the boredom is rampant and the onset of depression is a real thing. even though i was only there for a week, and i knew i was soon to return home; even i began to feel these harrowing effects. anger is also a symptom common to long-term patients. the literature and talk concerning the warning signs and remedies for these phenomena are ubiquitous on certain floors of all hospitals.

one week after returning home (i spent almost all of that week in bed, also) my 15-year-old dog, zazu died in her sleep. it was a depressing day. i began the day pretty excited as it was my first day to leave the house. i was walking out to take jackson to school when i found zazu lying in the spot in which she had died overnight. after calling charlotte, and dropping j-man at school; i came home and began to dig a grave for my friend. remember, i had just recently gotten out of the burn center, and i was forbidden to get any direct sunlight on my body. in the hottest part of the summer, i was out digging a huge hole in jeans, a long-sleeve turtle-neck, gloves, and a bucket hat. the heat, coupled with my having been on my back for two weeks was exhausting. what should have been a difficult task was made infuriating due to my fatigue, over-heating, and nausea. i loved her, so i kept going until i was finished.

the very next morning, charlotte and i returned to brook for a checkup at the hospital. on our way there, we got the message that my sister-in-law had taken a horrific fall and was critically injured. it seemed impossible for us to believe that anything fatal could have occurred, so we decided some facts must have been misrepresented. they were not. during my examination, charlotte received the phone call telling us that rhonda was dying. it seemed surreal that while these physicians were analyzing my skin's recovery, and attempting to predict the degree of permanent scarring i would have, i was completely disinterested in what they were telling me. we hurried them through the appointment; but, we didn't make it back to austin until after rhonda had died. her injuries were massive, and i hate that the last time i saw her, she didn't look like anyone i had ever before met.

those two weeks taught me a lesson that many before me have learned much sooner than i did: life is fragile, and no one can know when it will end. freak accidents, long term illness, and old age are strangers that pass us every day. often we don't notice them, because we are so focused on the trivial matters of life that we make into urgent action items. often we don't notice them because they are not yet ready to reveal themselves to us. there is no avoiding the introduction that awaits us, there is only preparation for the reception.

i know too many people who pass up opportunities to experience fun, or newness, or excitement. they hoard their time and money and emotions as if they were items which can wish to be unused. i wish this were not the case. i have always been a person to enjoy spontaneity and levity; but the events of last summer reminded me that living is more than just working, paying bills, and going to crappy parties you wanted to skip. now, we skip them. i have other things i'd like to do. things i'd like to do with my family, and what few friends i have.

one of the things i hope jackson takes with him into his life is his memory of the fun we had together - doing things that were extraordinary, seeing places that were beautiful and exceptional, and laughing and having fun though it all. the knowledge i have and the experiences we have together are the only really lasting things that he can take from us when he goes off to live his life. i hope i give him enough to fill his mind with illumination. i am sure going to try.

haystack calhoun

2006-01-16T13:28:00.000-06:00

being a 7th generation hays county resident, i can't help but exhibit redneck tendencies on occasion. as the saying goes - you can lead a hayseed to town, but you can't make him drink.

saturday night we found ourselves in hillbilly heaven. here's how it all began:

four years ago, we spent christmas at the lodge at cloudcroft, new mexico. it is a beautiful place you should visit if ever you have the chance. santa claus presented jackson with a present and it snowed every day we were there. we had a great time. one of the stocking-stuffers in jackson's stocking was a diecast model of a monster truck named reptoid. we knew nothing about monster trucks; charlotte just thought the toy looked cool, thus beginning an obsession previously unknown to our little boy. what began as an impulse buy has evolved into a collection numbering well over 100.

as it turns out, monster trucks and their tour are a very big business. videos, books, and live events are widely available. speed channel airs a television show called "monster jam" weekdays at 5. they show highlights from the past weeks on tour. jackson hates to miss it. his favorite (and the obvious favorite truck on the tour) is grave digger, driven by dennis anderson.

saturday night we went to the alamodome for a live monster jam. this is the third year we have gone to this event. although we began this "tradition" for jackson's benefit, i would be a bit dishonest if i didn't admit that charlotte and i have a good time, too. this year was particularly exciting for him because, for the first time, dennis anderson was in san antonio to drive his truck. we have seen grave digger before; but on those occasions, pablo huffaker was behind the wheel. jackson likes pablo alot, but dennis anderson is a legend.

prior to the start of the show, the trucks are parked on the floor of the alamodome; and, the ticket-holding public is invited to see the trucks up close, and get autographs from and photographs with the drivers. you don't need to be told that we were among the masses of zealots. the longest line was the one that ended in front of dennis anderson and the grave digger. i'm glad we got there early, because the line stretched the entire length of the arena, and then some. that's over 120 yards of redneck. as it turned out, we only had to wait a little over an hour. i guess it was worth it, as jackson was elated. dennis even bent down and talked to jackson for a minute.

for my 5 year-old boy, this is as good as it gets.