Lebanon.....

Things are changing rapidly in the Middle East, due in no small part to an aggessive policy on the part of our present government that has gotten things off of center at long last. The 3000+ deaths in our country on 9/11 and the 1000's more casualties in Iraq and Afghanistan will have a positive legacy if democracy spreads in the region. And today it is, this time in Lebanon where the Syrian backed government has resigned under pressure and citizens are taking to the streets to show support for democratic reforms.

I have had a soft spot for the Lebanese for decades now...since 1976 actually. In that year, having just returned from the army, I had taken a job as a stock broker with Bache&Co. in Dallas. After months of "in office" training I was on my way to the headquarters in New York City for three months to acquire further skills and to take the test to gain my NYSE license.

By chance we had a commodities broker visiting from the Beirut office who would be in Dallas for a few months, the same months that I would be absent, so we worked an arrangement whereby he and his wife would sublet my apartment while I was gone. Rafic Hassam and his wife were lovely, gentle, kind and well educated people and I learned much about life in Beirut from them. The city at the time was known as the "Paris of the Middle East" a beautiful seaside cosmopolitan place as charming and economically well off as any city in the world.

When I returned from New York early in 1977 the Hassam's had already gone back to Beirut so I never saw nor heard from them again. But what they had left in my apartment stunned me. They had completely stocked my usually vacant refrigerator with all manner of delicacies. My cupboards were stocked with canned goods which were arranged like a supermarket...by category, type and size of cans. All my clothes had been washed and pressed and neatly arranged in the closets, socks folded and arranged by color in the chest of drawers. Likewise in my bathroom the guylike stock of 2 towels had been added to greatly and folded neatly away on the newly added shelf paper.

Of course what happened to Beirut in subsequent years is one of the great travesties of the century, ground into dust by warring factions, sects and governments. I often wonder what happened to Rafic Hassam and his wife. I may never know, but if they are still alive and in Lebanon, now perhaps they'll have a chance at a better life.

A distinguished visitor....

Though very much a spiritual person I'm not as strong a church goer as some in my life would like. Namely my spouse and my mother. I actually enjoy the experience and like the people who attend church very much. I suppose I've just never felt the strong compunction for the organized aspects of religion as much as some regular attendees. I'm not judging them, or me, as right or wrong that is just where I feel I fit in. Actually over the years I've had just as strong a spirtitual experience while attending AA meetings where, in fact, the concept of God or more particularly a higher power is quite prominent. I suppose that in AA I can see God's works first hand and directly in action versus the concept of God in action while seated in a church service.

But today, Julie, Jack and I did suit up and show up at The First United Methodist Church in Midland, where coincidently the President and Laura Bush got married and where the First Mother-in-Law,, Mrs. Welch, still attends. And I'm glad that I attended for today, once again, we had a special guest in attendance.

The FUMC, not by design I know but none-the-less, has a mainly white upper middle class congregation and so I did happen to notice a very distinguished black couple and younger woman walk past me and be seated several aisles ahead. Not knowing them my first thought was that it was good to see a more diverse group attending the FUMC. Little did we know that the distinguished gentleman was in fact far more distinguished than we could have realized.

As mentioned a year or more ago, a non-denominational church group in Midland has found itself in the unique position of trying to assist in brokering peace in the Sudan bringing with it some degree of national attention. As the service progressed our friend Rev. Jan Reed made the daily announcements including a wish that we all pay our humble respects to visitor General Lazaro Sumbeiywo and his family of Kenya. General Sumbeiywo was the chief mediator of the Sudanese peace accords and was in town to show his gratitude to all the local people of faith who had helped make this possible. He is leaving tomorrow to make a personal report to the U.N.

Julie, Jack and I took time after the service to shake the General's hand and tell him thank you for all his efforts. A handshake with a unique piece of important world history.

I owe our sour grapes...!

Last evening the answer to another of life's important mysteries was revealed to me. I found out what the last stanza of "Those Were the Days", the theme song to All in the Family, actually says. While relaxing with some nostalgia TeeVee shows I made a vow to myself to consult Google and finally learn the lyrical truth about "Those Were The Days". Although you personally may have had the ear to discern the words as Edith and Archie sang the last lines of the show's opening tune, for 30+ years I did not. As hard as I would listen the last two lines of verse always sounded like "Gee I owe our sour grapes....those were the days". Now being somewhat astute I could not image that I was hearing correctly, "I owe our sour grapes" just didn't make sense. But once an idea finds it's way into my limited brain space there it stays, so I could not overwrite this data with something more sensible. Every time I've seen All in the Family for the last three decades I've heard "....I owe our sour grapes" knowing full well it was a bogus interpretation. I had no problems with the first 3 verses.....

Boy the way Glen Miller played
Songs that made the hit parade.
Guys like us we had it made,
Those were the days.

OK this verse is easy to understand and has meaning in the context of the show, the good ol' days when music was oh so tuneful and easy to listen to, not like the raucous rock n' roll of the early '70's when the show aired.

And you knew who you were then,
Girls were girls and men were men,
Mister we could use a man like Herbert Hoover again.

Again social commentary ala Archie Bunker...."We don't need no faggots here Meathead", things were simpler in the days of the Bunkers youth. People, places and things were straightforward and better. I can dig it.

Didn’t need no welfare state.
Everybody pulled his weight.

Here, the start of the final verse, is something that makes great sense and is in some ways the crux of Archie Bunkerism, the Commie Pinko Fag Hippies taking advantage of the American dream. But at this point, for decades, my brain lapsed into "stuck". Stuck on "Gee I owe our sour grapes". When in fact the actual lyrics are...... are you ready!

Gee our old LaSalle ran great.
Those were the days.

"Gee our old LaSalle ran great". That's it? Well no wonder I never connected up ear to brain and understood. That's lame, it has no contectual meaning to the show. Unfortunately now that I know the real words my brain will be stuck with them, but I think I'd rather still be hearing "Gee I owe our sour grapes". It's just as relevant. The songwriters, Lee Adams and Charles Strouse must have had a major work planned for this song and the producers cut them off just as they was getting going. "Sorry Lee, Charlie you're running long with this thing, it's a stinkin' sitcom theme song not a symphony". So Lee and Charlie just threw in some wordy rhyming drivel to complete the song and that was that. Leaving me stuck for 30+ years trying to figure out just what the hell they were singing. Thanks Lee, thanks Chuck.

Long time passing...

Late Friday evening I received a call from my old fraternity brother John Stephens. John lives in Houston, works in Pasadena California, but was calling from Bangs, Texas where he was visiting his folks. His Dad was the country doctor there for well over half a century. John was calling to see if I knew of the Iwo Jima 60th anniversary memorial and re-enactment being held at The National Musuem of the Pacific War a.k.a The Nimitz Museum in Fredericksburg, Texas and to see if we might consider meeting him there.

In fact it had not dawned on me that this weekend was the anniversary of the landings on Iwo Jima, and I think that if we had had just a little more notice we might have gone to Fredericksburg and met John for the event. Julie and I have been fairly regular visitors to the town and specifically the Nimitz Museum. Our friend, author Joe Galloway of We Were Soldiers fame has been a speaker there several times in the last years.

John's call Friday night did,however, get me thinking about the sacrifice those who fought not only at Iwo Jima, but all over the Pacific made all those years ago. And more particularly I started to think of all those men I have known over my lifetime who did participate in that fierce fighting but are now sadly gone from our midst. Men like my old scoutmaster and former Marine Bill Bosworth who just passed away 2 or 3 years ago. I'm not sure Bill was at Iwo Jima, but I know that he landed at Tarawa...I remember him telling us.

Bill was a big man, had a deep booming voice, and looked quite like Robert Mitchum at least to an 11 year old boy scout. He was the epitome of a Marine and like any good Marine he told things like they were. When boys sitting around a campfire tended to make South Pacific island combat a glamorous thing....Bill told us by his facial expressions that it was not. The only time I remember him telling us directly about his experiences it seemed that this big burly guy was about to cry....

We got to hear many stories sitting around a campfire and when I look back on those days growing up with Bill and other veterans of my father's age as my role models I still can see them all as were then, young men in their late 30's. When I was in scouts and these men talked about their combat experiences this was only 17 or 18 years after they had occured. It is now 60 years, or more, hence and so many of the combat veterans of World War II are gone. That's what I remember most about this Iwo Jima anniversary weekend.....I miss the old guys who made that history.

Update: Courtesy of reader, Ms. Durst, in Fredericksburg catch the story from onsite here.. Iwo Jimo Salute

Media Star.....

A very nice article in our newspaper, The Midland Reporter-Telegram, today about crosstown blogger and friend Eric Siegmund and his FireAnt Gazette......with color photo!

I'm just wondering if Eric has really sold out to the MMSM [minor mainstream media] and if he realizes just how many acres of trees in the rain forest had to be felled to print this article. And to think of the toxic inks used.......

Coober Coverage.....

A couple of days ago I made mention of the latest news from Coober Pedy. Among the recent items outlined by Coober Pedy News editor Gary Adkins was the formation of a new "football" team in CP. Sensing that this was big news in the outback I emailed Tim Blair and alerted him. My hunch was correct. I quickly got a note back from Tim....

Wallace,

This is fantastic! I assigned a reporter to this story about 30 seconds after reading your email -- photograph and article will appear in next week's Bulletin. Give me an address, and I'll forward a copy.

Cheers,

Tim

You have to hand it to Tim, he's been on the job as an editor at The Bulletin for less than one month and he's already gotten himself a major scoop! Hopefully we can look forward to a major story in Australia's leading newspaper......!

Listen to the music....

A sad note today, longtime Doobie Brothers drummer Keith Knudsen has died of pneumonia at the age of 56. Keith had had a long bout with cancer over the years which had depleted his strength. Though not an "original" Doobie, Keith joined the band in 1974 when it was decided that a second drummer would add to the groups need for a driving rhythm section. He played on six albums with hits such as "Taking It to the Streets" and "Black Water." Knowing some of the Doobies, I'm sure that this is a very sad day for them. Having been together for so long it is like a death in the family. My sad best wishes to them all.....

A PS: In the accompanying Rolling Stone web report....the picture shown is actually my friend Mike Hossack, the Doobies other primary drummer and orginal group member.

Update PS: don't know if it was my doing or perhaps others....but I emailed Rolling Stone Magazine online about the incorrect picture accompanying Keith Knudsons obituary.....and now it's changed to a generic Doobies group photo.

Travel getaway...!

Always on the alert for an interesting out of the ordinary vacation destination I've recently come across a real getaway spot courtesy of my friend Gary Adkins in Coober Pedy, Australia. Deep in the Australian outback and a mere 140 km. from Coober Pedy is Woomera Station, the world's largest rocket test range.

Once a restricted area Woomera is now open to the public and has all any traveler would want...a golf course, swimming pool, fitness centre, theatre, ten pin bowling alley, lawn bowling greens, tennis courts, squash courts, a 270 room 3-star hotel and a variety of fine dining establishments. A veritable oasis perched at the edge of the outback. Check out the ammenities on their website. This could be the perfect vacation experience for you!

Extravaganza bonanza......!

Last night was one of our big social events of the year, the St. Ann's School Mardi Gras Gala. The Gala is the big fund raising event of the year for our little Jack's school and quite the social venue! Julie looked beautiful in red and I was, I offer humbly, quite stunning in my new Tuxedo. A tuxedo purchased yesterday for $129 [including a suberb Italian closed tab Tux shirt]. We found this bargain at our formerly worn [i.e. used] consignment clothing store, Gentleman's Agreement. I had gone into G.A. to try and find an outlandish sports jacket to wear...and did so, until it was vetoed by Julie. She, however, made an amazing find. The only Tux available in the store and surprisingly it was just my size. It fit perfectly and was virtually brand new. As we were considering this purchase, the owner said, "by the way, if you wear a 16½ shirt, I have a custon made Italian shirt that just came in from Dallas to go with it". I do wear a 16½ shirt...and it was gorgeous. I'll be attending more formal events in the future.

The fund raising at the Mardi Gras Gala is through a live auction and a concurrent silent auction where items are bid upon from tables scattered all about the Petroleum Club. I have to say that I'm proud of Julie who, for our donation, put together a great trip to Santa Fe. Airfare for two, two nights at the LaPosada hotel, dinner at the Pink Adobe, train trip on the historic Santa Fe domeliner and a special treatment at an exclusive day spa. It went for $2550....a generous donatation to the school.

And what we came home with will certainly be beyond our little Texas Tech fan, Jack's, wildest dreams. As pictured above Julie bid on and won a huge basket of Texas Tech sports fan memorablia. It's stuffed full of TT booster banners, hat's T-shirts and even a street sign. But the real story is the autographed balls, one from each sport that the school participates in. Autographed by all the coaches of each sport. The highlight is, of course, the signed Bobby Knight basketball and the Mike Leach football. I won't divulge what this package went for but it was just slightly less than the similar University of Texas sports basket that contained a football autographed by the entire Longhorn team...the recent Rose Bowl victors. Jack won't see his new collection until Monday evening, but we're looking forward to seeing an 11 year old boy faint dead away!

Senior '68.....

Growing up in Midland I had two very best friends, Bill and Ronnie, with whom I did everything. Bill lived directly behind us, across the alley, and Ronnie [now Ron] lived a block or so away. I've known them now for almost 45 years. Both Bill and Ron have lived in Houston for most of their adult lives and we don't see nearly enough of each other.

For a decade or so in the 90's and somewhat beyond, we didn't do nearly enough to stay in touch even by phone or email. Recently, and I suppose because of my recent flirtation with mortality, we have been communicating more. In fact I'm even emailing Bill's mom, Betty, who was like a second mother to me.

I don't dwell in the past but I do like to keep in touch with those great times we had all those years ago. Great times in a simpler life. In fact, as a side note, I'm gratified that my adorable step-son Jack even likes to watch "Leave it to Beaver" each night with me. I was the same age as The Beav when it originally aired, had a big brother like Wally and my Mom was the stay at home kind who was there like June when we came home from school. So, Jack gets to see the kind of life I used to lead when I was his age.

One of the things I'm doing for Bill, Ronnie and Betty is taking pictures of the old neighborhood and of their houses so that they can see what the old homestead looks like. Bill's house has not changed a lick in 40 years. It's rather scary sometimes when I drive by...I expect to see the '64 red 4-door Valiant and the big finned Chrysler Imperial to still be sitting out front. Bill and I did some major league "cruising" in that Valiant, embarrased as we were to be seen in the family car.

As I was in the alley today taking some photos of the Stalling's house from the rear, I ran across the image depicted above. This graffiti is on my parents alley wall [they still live there] and was put there by me 40 years ago in 1965! I apparently was quite proud to be graduating from Midland High School in 1968.

The only problem was that I actually graduated in 1967! Mathematics never was my strong suit.