Come back again soon....

D. Daphne Dog and I will be on the highway pursuing a big adventure, we'll be back soon. In the meantime we leave you with a symbolic photo for the year 2006, Daphne at the gravesite of her old pal, Tres the Big Gold Dog.

New Years thoughts....

I believe-
That we don't have to change friends if we understand that friends change.

I believe-
That no matter how good a friend is, they're going to hurt you every once in a while and you must forgive them for that.

I believe-
That true friendship continues to grow, even over the longest distance. Same goes for true love.

I believe-
That you can do something in an instant that will give you heartache for life.

I believe-
That you should always leave loved ones with loving words. It may be the last time you see them.

I believe-
That you can keep going long after you think you can't.

I believe-
That we are responsible for what we do, no matter how we feel.

I believe-
That either you control your attitude or it controls you.

I believe-
That money is a lousy way of keeping score.

I believe-
That my best friend and I can do anything or nothing and have the best time.

I believe-
That it is pointless to try and discuss some things with someone who always has to be right.

I believe-
That sometimes the people you expect to kick you when you're down, will be the ones to help you get back up.

I believe-
That sometimes when I'm angry I have the right to be angry, but that doesn't give me the right to be cruel.

I believe-
That maturity has more to do with what types of experiences you've had and what you've learned from them and less to do with how many birthdays you've celebrated.

I believe-
That it isn't always enough to be forgiven by others. Sometimes you have to learn to forgive yourself.

I believe-
That no matter how bad your heart is broken the world doesn't stop for your grief.

I believe-
That our background and circumstances may have influenced who we are, but we are responsible for who we become.

I believe-
That just because two people argue, it doesn't mean they don't love each other. And just because they don't argue, it doesn't mean they do.

I believe-
That you shouldn't be so eager to find out a secret. It could change your life forever.

I believe-
That two people can look at the exact same thing and see something totally different.

I believe-
That your life can be changed in a matter of hours by people who don't even know you.

I believe-
That even when you think you have no more to give, when a friend cries out to you, you will find the strength to help.

I believe-
That the people you care about most in life are taken from you too soon.

Damn....a mullet!

I had a very nice day today, visiting again with the woman who used to be the little girl across street when I was a kid. I took her son and my two nieces to the Chaparral Racing Exhibit at our Petroleum Museum. I could go on about this nice experience and intended to, but something more important happened tonight.

I really hate to go into any 7-11 Store. First I always figure that my luck will run out and the store I'm in will be robbed while I'm there; secondly, the prices are ridiculous, but you knew that. Thirdly, I'm really not a snob, but everytime I'm in a 7-11 most of the people in the place look like they'll be the ones to rob the joint.

But sometimes when picking up only one item a 7-11 comes in handy, rather than driving much further to one of the grocery stores. And tonight I was lucky; I hit the jackpot, I actually saw a guy with an honest to God Mullet haircut. It was one of those curly hair mullets, an A-One super mullet. So surprised was I that I almost uttered, "Damn a mullet" out loud. I thought that even among 7-11 patrons, the mullet was a thing of the past. Not so. The only good thing about guys wearing mullets is that they make me feel so much better about myself.

Christmas: After action report....

With no great expectations and an attitude set at "0" on the positive/negative scale I'd say my Christmas was not all that bad. A whole lot lonlier with my Dad gone and with one less dog, but not all that bad.

My Christmas Eve rounds at the hospital helped me "get out of self" somewhat, so much so that I believe that I'll make that an annual event. Christmas morning gift opening was paltry, but having Daphne is like having a kid around, at least as far as watching excited glee with new toys. Her's is a new knotted rope which she loves to pick apart and even more so she enjoys having me pull on it with her. Enjoys is an understatement. She could do this for hours. She's been carrying it around with her everywhere, even to bed.

I was glad and somewhat surprised that my Mom agreed to go with me to the Serenity AA Club Christmas dinner. These are always well attended, the food is great and plentiful and as my Mom commented, "they sure are a happy bunch". Indeed; and interesting too. Our membership runs the gamut of society including a former managing partner of a national accounting firm, three doctors and the associate minister of a large local church. We have members from some of the wealthiest families in Midland and guys from the Salvation Army trying to get started again. Some members have been prostitutes and some are from the Junior League. Black, white, hispanic and asian, gay and straight. We all have one thing in common, we are all glad to be there and we recognize none of the boundries that might be seen or felt on the "outside".

After my Mom's pleasant experience at Serenity, she commented that she needs to look on the positive side of things more often and to get out and more involved in life again. That was the best Christmas present I could have asked for.

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas

Ho, Ho, Ho! In honor of the occasion I've put together a little dance number for your entertainment. Filmed entirely on location! Hope you enjoy and we wish you the happiest of holidays.

On the Eve of Christmas....

Frankly Christmas for me, and my Mom, will be sparse this year; for obvious reasons. But we'll try and make the best of what we can. Christmas is a holy day, a family day and a secular holiday, but is also an attitude. Going into Christmas one needs to have a good and proper attitude and a reasonably sane mind concerning ones expectations. I think we're both OK in both areas. Not that it won't be sad, but we plan on having a good, albeit different, Christmas. Church, doing a few things for others and visiting with old friends.

And if I need any help in the "attitude of gratitude" department, I only have to remember back two years. Two years ago, at just about the time I am writing this, I was in surgery, my chest cut open like a chicken, heart and lungs stopped while a team of surgeons repaired the ticker. Not only gratitude, but thanks to all those who were there to repair my body and to see me through the ordeal. Including one whom I won't mention, but that person knows who he/she/it is. Here's a shot of me on Christmas Eve, or perhaps, Christmas I'm not sure which because I wasn't much with it. This Christmas will be more pleasant than that, I can guarantee you!

Holiday wish.....

All the lovely ladies in their finery tonight
I wish that I could know them one by one
All the handsome gentlemen with loving on their minds
Strolling in to take the ladies home
Bless you all and keep you on the road to tenderness
Heaven can be yours just for now.

All the gentle strangers who by nature do not smile
To everyone who cannot hold a pen
To all you heavy rounders with a headache for your pains
Who dread the thought of going round the bend
Bless you all and keep you on the road to better things
Heaven can be yours just for now.

To all the lovely ladies in their finery tonight
I wish that I could kiss you while you knit
To all the ones who learn to live with being second-guessed
Whose job it is to give more then to get
Bless you all and keep you with the strength to understand
Heaven can be yours just for now.

To all the little dreamers with a dream that cannot last
To all the sleeping giants who must wake
To every man who answers to the letter of the law
And all the rest imprisoned by mistake
Bless you all and keep you with the faith to let it pass
Heaven can be yours just for now

To all the lonely sailors who have trouble being seen
To all of you with heartache that remains
Maybe sometime later you might swim back into shore
If someone could relieve you of your chains
Bless you all and keep you all on the land or on the sea
Heaven can be yours, just for now

Gordon Lightfoot

Dog Alert....!!

Who could turn down a face like this? My friend Bryan, herself a dog lover and gold dog owner, found this sweet dog running loose in the 2500 block of Sinclair in Midland. This pooch is housebroken and from my contact with her, very well behaved. And lovable....oh so lovable. Due to all dog lovers we know leaving town for the holidays, we have Pooch safely conveyed to the Animal Shelter with instructions to call us before anything is done with her. We will return to

pick her up if no one claims her. If you know whose dog this might be, or would consider adopting her, please contact me. Did I mention cute....and adorable? She'd be the perfect dog to sleep on your couch!

Dog Tales...

That D. Daphne Dog is a piece of work! A work in progress probably better describes her. I'm steadily more amazed at her intelligence, inventiveness and willingness to try new things. Which come to think of it, actually involves seeing what she can get away with.

Over a month ago, the first time it got really cold at night, I let her sleep in the den on a bed made from an old blanket. This worked well for two nights. On the third night I went to sleep alone and woke up with a dog sleeping so close to me she was almost on top of me. She's been there ever since. I was worried at first that being such an active dog during the day she'd be too active at night also. But she's amazingly inactive, the only time she awakens me is when a "potty" event is necessary at which time she sits up in bed and whines until I get up. I'm used to that, I think I had a wife in Dallas who did that.

Daphne also naps on "our" bed during the day, a perfect spot for any dog. Two walls of the bedroom are almost entirely glass so she can recline while guarding against squirrel attacks and the bed is flooded in sunlight in the afternoon, providing a great spot for catching warm rays. I keep a fleece blanket folded at the end of the bed and I noticed it always seemed to get unfolded as the day wore on. One day I was in the walk-in closet out of D. Daphnes sight, when I heard some commotion on the bed. I peeked around the corner and saw her with the blanket in her mouth, running in circles to spread the blanket out, then stop and paw it into a sort of dog nest. When she had it done to her satisfaction she plopped down and went to sleep.

Pretty good, but now it gets better. I have a two seated couch in the bedroom and lately Daphne has been resting there too. D. Daphne being more a feral dog than the genteel Big Gold Dog, likes to sleep in confined spaces and the pillows on the couch give her that feel. She had additional ideas about how to improve the space though. Last night I heard familiar commotion and spied D. Daph dragging her fleece blanket from "our" bed to her new home. Here's a snapshot of the end result. What a dog.

Daphne has also learned much more in our new closer relationship. Sometimes with dogs it's just a matter of finding the right words to convey our wishes. On walks, for some years, I've fought a losing battle with her runaway pulling behavior. I tried "heal" "halt" "no"....all the usual suspects. But the word "hold" was the missing command. When uttered she's now very good about freezing where she is until I catch up. Same situation with the car. She loves to ride and I have no trouble getting her in, but when we arrive back home I've had problems getting her out when I open her door [yeah she prefers to ride in the back, she likes being chaffeured]. I've tried "come", "here", "let's go" the whole gamut. She would just sit there with that dog look that says, "Stop speaking Lithuanian, I don't understand a word you're saying". That is until I arrived a "jump down". The first time I said that it was like magic. The same with "jump up". Magic.

Daphne has a propensity to whine, which has disturbed me. Whining that there's a squirrel outback, whining that there's a dog out front, whining for me to get up from the computer and do something with her. But as we say, when something is disturbing us we need look no further than ourselves for the problem, so I've decided to use her whining to my advantage; I'm going to teach her to speak English. Now when she starts to whine I whine and howl with her, which does get her going. So far we've made it to the point where she tries to bite my face. We've got a ways to go on this one.

And speaking of magic, magic moments. I visit my Mom each day and have been taking Daphne along. At first my Mom was a little put off by Daphnes wilder side, running through the house smelling each and every thing. But now, Mom is disappointed when Daph is not along. Her attitude has changed so much that I am astounded. Those who know Carol realize that to call her neat and germ free is an understatement; she cleans house before the maid comes. So yesterday while sitting in the living room talking, I was flabbergasted when Daphne jumped up on the good white couch and sat down right next to Mom [actually nothing surprises me with Daphne, but I feigned flabbergastedness]. I told Daphne to jump down, but instead my Mom said, "oh let her stay". What a picture, my little 83 year old Mom sitting on the couch right next to Dahpne, looking quite the little lady herself.

Counting Blessings....

As the administrator of the mineral trust I help create back in 1998, I had to go to the bank Tuesday to sign off on the preliminary year end accounting. This is the only time each year I know, or want to know, how it's doing. Wow. It's doing stunningly well. I'm glad and blessed that all that work in '98, '99 and 2000 paid off for those who invested in it.

Knowing how much my share is worth is a blessing, and a curse, though actually I've had worse curses. When we set up the trust I had a covenant added putting a big penalty on withdrawls for the first five years. That was up last year and of course the thought of significant potential money in one's pocket tends to burn holes. But, I've decided to let my portion ride. In another 18 or 24 months the value of my share may perhaps cross a magic financial threshold. I can wait, I'm pretty content with life now, don't need much [though want a lot!] so I can wait. In fact in the emotional transition zone I'm in, it's better to wait. An emotional fool and his money are easily parted. Though I've thought of some ways to part with a portion of it that sound good, foolish or not.

Lately I've been pretty busy and I count that a blessing too. Thanks to friends, I have things upcoming to look forward to. I like looking forward to things.

After Christmas I've been invited down to the new Hill Country home of my long time, close friends Gen. Tom Hill and wife Toni. I've known Tom and Toni since college and once lived with them at Ft. Benning Ga. Daphne's invited and it doesn't hurt that Toni's younger, gorgeous sister Leanna will be there.

In early February I'm going to meet author friend Joe Galloway at a "celebrity" quail hunt in Abilene. I'm not a celebrity. I'll probably be the official celebrity photographer, bird boy and designated driver. Joe is bringing an old friend of his, Gen. Norman Schwarzkopf. A privelage to pick up the General's birds and take some photos.

Finally and the coup d'grace of my upcoming travels; on February 26th I'll be in the White House to see my good pal, and annual visitor to the estate, Bruce Crandall receive the Congressional Medal of Honor. Bruce and Arlene are bringing a friend too, actor Greg Kinnear who played Bruce in the film, We Were Soldiers. Daphne is not invited here, but will stay with my Mom, who has taken a real shine to her.

Truly blessed; most importantly with friends, but also with some interesting opportunities. My horoscope on my birthday said that I was entering a new 11 year good luck cycle, perhaps this is the start!

Bits and pieces......

From today's Midland Reporter-Telegram I've gleaned the top stories.

The biggest story has to be the death of famed animator Joseph Barbera, creator of Yogi Bear, The Flintstones and The Jetsons. His work originated in the 1930's and lasted until only recently. He had a profound influence not only on the world of animation but also on a generation of little dweebs like me who drove our parents crazy with years of "Hey BooBoo" and "Yabba Dabba Doo".

Known for weeks now is the fact that Johnny's Barbeque was purchased by a foreigner...from Odessa! Today his diabolical plans for change were announced. He will actually change a wall. This is unheard of at the historic joint. Moreover he plans to have a drive-thru window and serve breakfast in addition to "expanding" the menu. This probably irks Johnny to no end; his motto has been, "hey it was good enough in 1959, it's good today". But making up for this massive upheavel in tradition is the fact that the new owner promises to keep all the long time employees, many who came to my Dad's recent funeral. After all it's people like Luther, who make Johnny's, Johnny's.

And hey sports fans, it's college bowl season again! While reading the listing for this years ever expanding number of bowl games the thought occured to me, "I wonder if this is about money". Surely not. But I wonder what your favorite bowl will be? Back in the good ol' days [when the Flintstones were on] the bowl names were simple, direct, meant something in regional terms and they rolled off the tongue; Sugar Bowl, Cotton Bowl, Orange Bowl, Rose Bowl. Most good ones were named after plants. The road downward probably started with the now, I guess, defunct Tangerine Bowl. Someone thought that the fruit named bowl route was the way to go and since Orange was taken, hey the next best fruit is a tangerine. The rest is history. But back to my favorites. The two I won't want to miss are the PapaJohnsPizza.Com Bowl and the Meineke Car Care Center Bowl. You could name all the Flinstone era bowls in the time it takes to say that one. And tonight it's the Poinsetta Bowl, at least it's back to a plant name. And TCU will be playing so I'll probably catch part of that one. I like TCU, almost went to school there and have 5 people I know who played football there. Two of whom went on to play Pro ball. Ross Montgomery from Midland High [Bears] and a good business and hunting buddy of mine, Jim Vanderslice, in Dallas who went on to play 8 years with the '49's. I'll watch in tribute to Ross and Jim. But God forbid and I make a mistake and turn on that bowl that has the blue field, it hurts my head.

And that's the news for today....

At last...

And today, I learned several new reasons to be grateful!!

Recovering from the 3 "D"s....

Dog's death, Divorce and Dad's death. All in a row, all very close.

I've been to more social events lately than in ages. Some purely social, some with people wanting to offer condolensces and see how my Mom and I are doing. There are some very good and caring people in this world. When I'm at any function, like last night at a Christmas party, people ask, "how are you doing". Usually they mean, in specific, my Dad's passing but many mean the whole triad of sadness in their "how are you doing"?

I tell them I'm OK, at peace, with the passing of the Big Gold Dog and my Dad. Some give me that look like, "are you sure, do your words match your heart"? They do. Though my heart is sad and lonely without the two souls I loved so much, I couldn't have asked God for a better plan in their passing. And two words, two thoughts drummed into me at AA over the years paid big dividends. Those are acceptance and gratitude.

D: The failing health and death of my dog and my Dad had similar paths. I found out that Tres had a serious tumor around the 1st of July; I knew that he was old and that the tumor would probably speed his departure. I therefore had time to prepare for and accept his coming death and to spend as much time as I could with him, helping him do the things he loved and could still do. Like making a painful journey out to the front yard each day to lay in the sun, smell the scents dogs smell and to hear life passing by, for by this time he was functionally deaf and blind also. For those days when I saw him sunning himself at his home I am eternally grateful and will remember him that way. He was able to do this just days before he died. I'm grateful that he knew he was loved until the end and I'm grateful that he passed away, naturally, right outside my bedroom door, and that at 6 a.m. he woke me from a sound sleep to let me know his soul was passing on.

D: Likewise with my Dad. His health had been failing for years and my Mom and I accepted the fact that at 81, 82, or 83 he did not have long to go. As we watched him get more frail and unable to do more and more things I accepted that the time would come soon. I'm grateful that I was able to be here, close and sober to help out all I could. For the last year and a half we had eaten at Johnny's Barbeque each and every Thursday. My Dad was grateful for that one little bit of adventure, seeing old friends and sometimes just remembering his life with me. When he could no longer bear to walk and sit at the restaurant, he would drive with me and sit in the car. He was grateful for that too. Then when he could no longer even ride in the car, I picked up lunch for him at home. Grateful as ever when I told him everyone at Johnny's had asked about him. His spirit remained positive until the end, gratitude coming in smaller packages. You should have seen the smile on his face when I brought his daily ration of Hersheys Bars and he then whispered in my ear, "be sure to bring more tomorrow". He lived the last week on chocolate and Blue Bell ice cream.

I'm grateful that even almost until the end he had been able to walk a little around the house, that he still had most of his memory, knew we loved him and that we all were ready for his passing. He told me he was ready to go. And most of all I'm grateful to God that he put me in my Dad's room as he started to slip away, the only family member present. I think they, my Dad and God, planned it that way. My Dad and I had a special bond in our family. I had dreaded the thought of being in the room when he died, but now I'm eternally grateful and would not have had it any other way. It has given me a special sense of peace.

D: I wish I had as much peace about the divorce. Honestly there has not been a night gone by since June 1st that I have gone to sleep without some degree of emotional turmoil about that subject. Frankly it's a mixture of anger, disappointment and a large degree of sadness. I have wondered why, when I can find so much acceptance and gratitude about two deaths, can't I arrive at the same outcome with the divorce. I cannot, at present, find much to be grateful for. But like a soup pot on the stove, my thoughts have gone from simmering to boiling over and the broth has distilled down to the essecence that at least, in my mind, I can start to accept.


And once again thank you to all who have cared so much, sent cards, emails, phoned and who have improved my social life. There are too many to name but you know who you are....and so do I. Thanks.

Blog on Piglets....

Not to be outdone by that other local blogger guy at that Ant Newspaper, I too would like to announce a new, to wider distribution anyway, Blogger. Lisa has been a friend for a year or so and only recently I found that besides also being a football photographer, [MC Mustangs] she also has an interesting business, Harley, and other stuff blog The Piglet Papers.

In a bit of serendipity, I had read an interesting article in the local paper a week or so ago about business entrepeneurship. The article had a picture of the author, one Lisa. The picture was of Lisa in her business mode, the Lisa I know is usually in her Harley mode. I had made a mental note to contact the "business Lisa", not realizing that I already knew her as "Harley Lisa".

And welcome to a friend of the Midland Blogger Community, who is now a participant. The ever popular, talented and soft spoken: Janie!

Col. Bruce Wallace....Gone West

If the WWII age group is the "Greatest Generation", then we've just lost one of the greatest of them all. After surviving three wars our good friend, Col. Bruce Wallace has Gone West, flying into the setting sun. Bruce died on Wednesday.

I had the privelage of getting to know Col. Wallace well over the years through our involvement in the Confederate Air Force. As Bruce revealed more of his story to me it was hard to believe it was all true, but it was. Bruce would have me down doing push ups if I called him a hero, so I'll leave it at an "army legend".

Read Bruce's fabulous story

Good bye sir! Mission accomplished.

Baaaaad Dog...!

As I've mentioned, D. Daphne Dog has been very much a blessing throughout the last months. Always happy and wagging her tail, always active and inquisative about things; it's just nice to have her around. And for a dog that was not really house trained when she was given her reprieve to start living inside....she's done remarkably well. Only one, maybe two "pee pee" incidents and one "poop".

She's easily trainable and has learned to let me know when she needs to go out to "potty" [a generic term for either of the two functions mentioned above]. She whines. Of course she whines for a lot of other reasons too, so I have had to learn the "potty" whine. I learned it after the second and final "pee pee" episode I think.

Anyway you get the drift, Daphne has come a long way baby. But she does have her moments when, I believe, the trauma of her past life causes her to act out. Last night she acted out on our luxurious quilted bedspread, ripping a hole smack dab in the middle and pulling the stuffing out. I say luxurious, perhaps it was more like a pretty old, somewhat ratty bedspread. But it is now where Daphne sleeps, me too, so to her I'm sure it seemed luxurious. Why she did this is open for discussion but I think that the pain and trauma of being forced to stay outdoors during her childhood years sometimes is too much for her to bear. Also the bedspread was on the floor as I washed the sheets, so it presented a target of opportunity too great not to unleash her inner aggressions on.

But no mind, a bedspread is just stuff, a dog is a dog, dogs are more important than stuff. But she had to be reprimanded and so I used the technique used by some women I've known....a good dose of sour looks and quilt. Guilt, at least on me, works better than any other form of punishment. Even when I've done nothing wrong, some women have that certain knack of imparting the suggestion of guilt that makes me wonder. Though I may be perfectly innocent "now", they presume that I may have done this wrong in the past or perhaps might do it in the future, so why not be made to feel guilty about it "now".

So this was Daphne's punishment. One she's seen before. She's a master of deflection however. I usually start out with {low tone} "Daphne, did you do this"? At which time she starts glancing around looking for any other dogs I might be talking to. Since the Big Gold Dog is no longer here to deflect suspicion onto, Daphne now gets nowhere with this technique. Next I bring her over and have her sit down right in front of the evidence and, knowing that she's almost human I speak to her like a child, "Daphne, why oh why did you do this to our "good" bedspread". I can also read her mind. She's thinking, "Daphne, why oh why did you get caught".

After five or so minutes of constant low tone guilt imparting to Daphne, she'd had enough and decided to just lie down sad eyed and take it. I knew this was sufficient so I asked, "Daphne, do you have to go potty". At which time she bounded to the back door, did her business and when she came in I gave her a treat and said, "Good Dog". Dog and man happy as larks once again.....

Praise Be......

After a month long struggle, I finally completed the sale of my Dad's car late yesterday afternoon. As described previously, this has been an ordeal. Begun two weeks before my Dad passed away, completed two weeks after his death.

After a saga of trying to get funds transfered in, the delay due to my Dad's passing and then my sainted Mother "misplacing" the title, it's over, signed sealed and delivered, all completed at the Midland County Annex without a trip to Odessa. A friendly state employee tipped me off to the fact that I would not have to get the title reissued in my Dads' name if I would provide the proper forms and documents, including a death certificate. So, after a day of procuring and signing said forms I met the purchaser, nurse Bobby with check in hand, to close the deal. I was, however, fully prepared to have some minor bureaucratic snag delay the deal once more. "Oh you don't have Texas form TX24354, 'dispostion of a deceased WWII veterans vehicle', sorry you'll have to get that signed." But no problems. Deal done.

It was, however, sad seeing the car that I used to see my Dad tooling around in being driven off to Odessa. But the car won't miss a beat, and it's rather appropriate.....Nurse Bobby is a heavy smoker.

Time Marches On.....

Over the past 15 or so years that I've been back in Midland I occasionally have had fraternity brothers stop by while in town on business or when just traveling through. But time marches on and now I have children of my fraternity brothers calling to visit while in town on business.

Today I had a nice visit with Lauren, one of the daughters of my fishing pal John Stephens. A lovely and smart woman with a degree in finance from UT who works for oil entrepeneurs in Houston. She looks like her Dad, though a whole lot cuter.

Duckumentary....

Noting my new career as a duck photographer, alert reader Martha P. suggests..."Maybe you should produce a “duckumentary”.

Coated with memories....

I had to be at a function mid-morning today when the temperature was still very chilly. I decided to wear a forest green fleece jacket that I hadn't worn since last years cold weather.

As I drove to the event, the sunlight caught many straw colored hairs on the coat; left overs from a blonde woman and a golden dog. Both gone. One who couldn't wait to leave while the other was desperate to stay. So many memories, complicated and sad, all because of a few hairs on a coat.

Sometimes I'm sorry that I'm a big emotional sap like this.....mostly though I'm not.

Lunching with the stars.....

As I mentioned, I have dined out for lunch every day this week with some of the finest people and greatest minds of the 21st Century. Tuesday it was the Media Magnates of the local blog scene, Wednesday with nature expert, Burr Williams, Thursday, in honor of my Dad I was treated to lunch at Johnnie's Barbeque by an old friend of the family and my high school days. Bob's dad was an oil pioneer of the Permian Basin and is a smart and succesful man in his own right. What about Monday....well that's none of your bidness.

Today I had the privelage, once again, of lunching with Dr. David Lambert, director of the McDonald Observatory and chairman of the University of Texas Astronomy Dept. With several PhD's from Oxford in Astrophysics and the like I'd have to rank him right up there with my Blog Buddies in the brains department [you all owe me one for that statement!].

Actually I had been invited to this function some time ago but with all the sad goings-on I'd forgotten about the invitation until Bob mentioned it at lunch yesterday, he's going too. It was an RSVP affair so I immediately called Dr. Lambert's assistant, Dr. Barna down at the UT astronomy school in Austin. Of course, being the scholarly type myself, my first question was "Hi Joel, What are you having for lunch". When Joel told me that a delicate melody of chicken in a glazed creme sauce was on the menu, I said, "sounds good Bubba, count me in" And so I was.

It somewhat amazes me that this is the second time in a year that a guy [me] who was a solid "C" student in high school would be dining with multiple astrophysicists. But there I was chatting away with my tablemate, Dr. Gary Hill, another Oxford PhD. I was representing our planetarium which is partnering with UT and the Observatory on some exciting joint projects, so I worked very hard to comprehend everything anything that Gary was talking about. Though from York, England and in excellent command of that language he might as well have been speaking Croatian.

The subject of today's meeting was the UT/McDonald's Hobby-Eberly telescope which when finished will study, "dark energy". I liked Dr. Hill a lot. Not only is he one of the world's leading experts on "dark energy" but also invented the concept for the telescope. A nice guy who apparently detected "dark energy" inside my head and so could explain the concept in a way that I understood. The way I undertand it, "dark energy" is something that cannot be seen but they know it's there because.....well it just has to be. In effect Gary has figured out a way to detect and measure nothing. Why didn't I think of that? But I think it helped my intellectual standing with Gary when I threw out the question, "what sort of alogrithmic progression is involved with this". Alogrithmic progression being a term I just had comes to grips with in another lunch with Internet guru Eric Siegmund.

[truthfully, orginally planning on being an Oxford astrophysicist myelf {hamstrum only be abyssmal grades} I do understand the concept of the Hobby-Eberly Telescope, or HET as we call it. The big new plus in the HET is it's ability to map much larger sections of the night sky than conventional telescopes, thus highlighting changes more rapidly. The data is analyzed using spectroscopy to measure the speed and distance of objects in the expanding universe.]

Truly an interesting Friday lunch marred only by the fact that Sara Lou Grimes dribbled strawberry vinegarette on my new, almost like silk, slacks. While Gary was talking about "dark energy" and it's implications for mankind, I was worried about a pink stain on my pants. I guess that's why he's an astrophysicist and I'm not.

The Deal from Hell.....

I was trying to sell my Dad's car a week before he died. I was trying to sell it the day he died and now, over a week later I'm still trying to finalize the sale. Not that there's a problem with the deal, we have a willing buyer, we are willing sellers and the price has been agreed up. No the problem is with the process.

A nurse, one of my Dad's caregivers, is purchasing the car and for five days I worked with her on getting money transfered into our account from her out of town small bank. So small it closed at 2 pm every day and there was only one banker to talk to who apparently spent most of his "open" hours away from the bank. The nurse called me several times each day wanting to know when she could get the car, not fully comprehending that we needed to be paid first. A nice person, just a tad pesky. I finally decided I had better things to get phone calls about so I turned the whole affair over to my banker, Garth, whose father was a friend of my Dad's.

In fact I had just come from the bank and Garth when I arrived at my Dad's hospital room in time for me to be there with him when he left this earthly realm. I told my Dad I loved him and how much he meant to us as I held his hand.....but I would have also like to add, "go in peace, we just sold your car".

But the story goes on. Garth called while I was still in my Dad's room telling me that he was working on the "deal" and when he found out that Dad had passed away minutes before he said, "uh oh, you'd better sign the title with his name". Probate you know.

One hour later as I arrived home, the "nurse" called to see how the "deal" was going and incidentally asked how my Dad was doing. I said, "the deal is going fine, my Dad is not, he just died". I could hear the pregnant pause before she said she was sorry, but I know she wanted to ask if this was going to slow the "deal" down. Thankfully, she didn't. In fact she called later that night to say that she understood this wasn't the time to do the "deal" and she'd call back. Which she did in two days to which she added, "don't worry about the money transfer, I have a cashiers check". Fine and dandy. I'd said I call in a few days to transfer title when we were in better shape to accomplish that. End of story.....

No unfortunately the story still goes on. Today was the day to "do the deal". The "nurse" and I agreed to meet at my Mom's house at 3 p.m. The car is there as were the keys and title which I had placed on a coffee table in my Mom's living room, knowing that I would need these soon. I called my Mom this morning to tell her we would be by this afternoon to close the "deal". "Fine", she said...."but where is the title". I could have wept. I won't go into details but after searching the whole house the title has mysteriously flown the coop.

So the "deal" is still a work in progress for now I get to go to the nearest state title office in Odessa armed with death certificates, registration and other assorted forms to try and wheedle a duplicate title out of them.

After the last 5 months of real trials, this is really just baby stuff but still a pain in the keester. I surmise that God thinks I wouldn't be happy if I didn't have some troubles to work on...maybe He's right. Or perhaps just a reminder that "this ain't nothin". I was reminded of what is important; as we looked for the title even in my Dad's desk, my Mom finally broke down sobbing saying, "Looking at all his personal things, it finally hits me that he's really gone". Me too, now that's important.

Thanks......

Thanks is not a strong enough word for me to give to everyone who has shown their care, compassion and support of my Mom and me in the last week. But Thanks!

My Mom has been kept busy writing at least one hundred thank you notes in response to flowers, food, phone calls, donations to our charities and for people who have been there when it counted. She's the old fashion type that can't rest until each and every note has been written. More of us should be like that I suppose. It's probably good therapy for her too.

I too have been overwhelmed with the kindness and caring of friends and frankly from people whom I don't know all that well and even more surprising are the calls and cards from people I met during my previous four years existance. I've had cassaroles delivered, flowers sent, cards, calls, emails from Hong Kong and Australia and this week I've been booked for lunch each and every day. If anyone thinks that anything is more important than family and good friends, they've yet to learn much about life. Well, dogs too, you knew I meant dogs as friends and family.

And my social scene is even looking up. I had a very lovely woman whom I've known for a long time call me last night to ask me to the theater this Friday. Mary is a charming, vivacious and interesting woman and although she's a little older than I, she is a riot. She is a little hard of hearing but you might be too if you were almost 91 years old.

Blog-o-rama Italiano....

Stay tuned and come back later for very big and exciting news.......

OK, I really didn't have any big news, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last week. What actually occured was that I was invited to lunch today with some of the most influential media minds of the 21st Century who were kind enough to want to brighten up my attitude after the previous hard months I've endured. It was most appreciated.

Pictured above with me at left are stalwarts of the blog-o-sphere Eric Siegmund, Jimmy Patterson, Jeff McDonald and Darryl Ward. Our luncheon was held at the somewhat new Italian Village, owned by Albanians I think, but it was superb. Excellent food, impeccable service in a sophisticated atmoshphere, perfect for our level of savoir faire. Or at least for a well traveled newspaperman like Jimmy. Four of us had standard, and very good, Italian fare. Jimmy had scampi. Four of us had water, Jimmy had iced tea. Big expense accounts make you used to that kind of luxury I suppose.

With such a strong philosophical base the luncheon discussion was varied and eclectic with topics ranging from 17th century literature and algorithmic ratios to the vagaries of our religous and spirtitual experiences. Oh yeah, if you weren't there we may have talked about you too.

Eric spoke so highly of algorithms, I thought that was what he was having for lunch, so I ordered some too. The Albanian guy said they were not in season so I had eggplant parmigiana. It was as good as the algorithms I'm sure. A splendid time and I appreciate the heartfelt care and concern that led to this, the first somewhat annual or sooner Midland Blogger Roundtable. It's great to have such friends. We are planning the next roundtable and as choices for the site, we have narrowed it down to the Grand Hotel in Geneva, Switzerland or Johnnie's Barbeque.

A few more personal shots can be viewed at: The Eclectic Photographer

Monday....

Monday Monday, so good to me,
Monday Monday, it was all I hoped it would be
Oh Monday morning, Monday morning couldn't guarantee
That Monday evening you would still be here with me.

Monday Monday, can't trust that day,
Monday Monday, sometimes it just turns out that way
Oh Monday morning, you gave me no warning of what was to be
Oh Monday Monday, how could you leave and not take me.

Every other day, every other day,
Every other day of the week is fine, yeah
But whenever Monday comes, but whenever Monday comes
You can find me cryin' all of the time.......

Moving on.....

Tomorrow, it will be a week ago that my Dad died, yet I think the next few days will be the worst, especially for my Mom.

In the days since his death we have been busy making arrangements, planning his farewell service and distracted from the sadness by a multitude of friends and family. My brother and sister, their families and childhood friends of mine have been pleasant diversions from the fact that my Dad is no longer here. I've had some genuinely hilarious moments of laughter with my old friends about events involving my Dad that occured long ago. Even an old girlfriend of mine whom I haven't heard from in many years, when she learned of my Dad's passing, drove down from New Mexico yesterday to visit with my Mom and me. My brother departed Friday evening, my sister left Saturday and now we are left alone with our thoughts.

We've been busy in the day or so since my Dad's service with friends, my Mom with thank you's and me with delivering floral arrangements to various charities. With 30+ large arrangements at her house we decided that perhaps we ought to share our friends floral generosity with others. My sister and I delivered the first flowers to hospice at the hospital an obvious first choice, but also so that Susan could see where her Dad left this earth and to meet the caregivers who saw him out with so much dignity.

My Mom and Dad were married for 60 years and although my Mom liked the solitude of the house during the day, there were very few nights over those decades that she was without him at home...or with the prospect of his return. There'll be no return this time and I'm sure the house will seem a lonely place.

All this is made easier with a lifetime of wonderful memories of my Dad and with the outpouring of care, compassion and love we have received from friends. My Mom has had a contstant stream of visitors, food, calls and cards. Me, I've had cards, calls and well wishes from almost everyone I've encountered. Some from people I haven't known well or have only recently met. Like the card from the parents of friends in the MHS football boosters club, people whom I've only seen on Friday night's for several months. Those mean a lot. They all mean a lot. And what has recently transpired in my life, including my Dad's passing, has reminded me once again what is important in this life. And those are dedicated friends, loving family and faithful dogs, not broken shower doors. Thank you one and all......

Closure....

It was a glorious late fall day for my Dad's memorial service, on his Mom's birthday. I had my final closure with him holding his hand as he died, my Mom had said her good-byes the day before he died so the service, really, was for my brother, sister and their families. And for the 100's of friends who cared so much about "Big Wally" who were in attendance. Including, many of the employees of Johnny's Barbeque. That would have pleased my Dad the most I think as well as says volumes about him. Here's the family who, besides a cousin and an aunt in Virginia, are the only close relatives left. Thanks to all who loved my Dad.

I was honored to give the eulogy for my Dad and as I thought on the way to the pulpit and in fact said to the congregation in my opening. "You all knew and loved my Dad, what more do I have to say that will add to that". I've had closure on several issues in the last several days I think my Dad would have wanted that too.

Counting Blessings.....

A late night tonight, early morning really, after a day of making final arrangements for my Dad. A pleasure doing these last things for him. A night of talking to sister, brother and old friends who are coming to pay their respects. Two of my best friends, in fact, coming to Midland once again were just here two weeks ago from Houston upon the death of one of their parents, one of my "other" mothers.

Even in the worst of times there are blessings to be counted and even some humor. Wednesday I fielded three calls from people wanting to know if I had died. They had seen the death notice for my Dad, our names being basically the same, and had been worried that it was me. I laughed and told them I thought it took some degree of courage to dial my number....and then say what? "Hi, are you alive"? I told them no it was my Dad who had gone but a piece of me has died with him, so thanks for the call.

My blessings are beyond measure in one of life's most important commodities, friends. My Mom and I have been inundated with calls, flowers, food and just plain ordinary caring. My AA friends understand, perhaps more than many, the pain of the situation and the healing process to follow and have been of great comfort. Some of the older members who knew my Dad have called or stopped by to tell me stories of how much they respected him or what it was like to work with him on School Board or County Government issues and what a fair, sensible and even handed approach he took to the most difficult issues. My Dad was the School Board President when the Supreme Court ordered the Midland Schools to desegragate, possibly the single most important and divisive event in MISD history. Many told of how he held things together through those tough times.

And once again, as with the death of the Big Gold Dog, through the Internet I have received emails and the important comments on this blog from caring people, some of whom I do not know personally but who wish to share their humanity with me.

And to cap the evening off, I had special visitors. How wonderful it was to have another Big Gold Dog in the house most of the evening. A Gold Dog who Tres knew well. What an emotional time to see this beautiful dog once again, and think of my buddy who left not very long ago. Thanks again one and all.....

Gone Home.....

My Dad died at 3:05 this afternoon. I was alone with him as he slipped away, holding his hand and telling him how much We loved him and how much He had meant to us. I know he was ready to leave his painful body. I know because he would not even eat chocolate anymore. He looked peaceful and like he was finally getting the rest he needed. Though he looked old, his spirit was still young and I had taken the picture shown to let the hospice staff know what a great looking guy he'd been for most of his life. He had waited for me to arrive in his room before going....I'm sure of that.

I had been trying to get to the hospital for several hours, but I had offered to sell my Dad's car to one of the caregivers who needed good transportation. She needed to wire the money from an out of town bank to my folks so I had been delayed at the bank. I arrived at hospice at 3:00. My Dad was alone and I immediately noticed a difference in his appearance from my morning visit, and I could not discern any noticeable breathing. Stepping to the nurses station I asked about his condition and Samantha said she had checked on him just 10 minutes prior. She came with me to his room and said what I had thought, "he is in the process of leaving us right this minute". She checked his pulse and got a faint response. Within 2 minutes he was gone.

I am blessed, I am grateful and God had a good plan for me today. The cycle of life is complete. My Dad was present when I was born, I was with him when he died, but it is yet another hole in my heart right now. But there is beauty in the world still, I did get to see the most beautiful woman in the world later in the day...if only for minutes. Another wonderful experience, yet extremely hard in it's own way.

And pictures are not enough to convey my thanks and that of my Mother to all those who helped make the process a spiritual trip, but here are the wonderful people at Hospice present when my Dad left us. Samantha, the girl on the far right was with me in the room with my Dad.

Tuesday update: A new day dawns, the first day without my Dad present in our lives. We had a good gift today however to help to start with the healing. Our friend, noted newspaper story teller Ed Todd stopped by my Mom's house to help write my Dad's obituary and to garner information for a newspaper story honoring "Big Wally". We pulled out old pictures, letters, honors he had received and related our stories of a great life. Ed has known just about everyone in Midland over the last 40 years so it was a great pleasure to hear him say, "you know, I liked and respected your Dad as much as anyone I've ever known here, he always did the right thing". Amen
Newpaper Article on my Dad

Life's Skills....

I've just come back from sitting for an hour and a half with my Dad in a mostly darkened room. I watch him breathe and sometimes wonder if he was still breathing. I have the worst and the best job. They are both the same.....I get to be with my Dad as he is preparing to die.

People think that some of us in AA are crazy when we say we're thankful that we got terminally drunk and landed in AA. In my case thankful that I got terminally drunk and lived to land in AA. But it is true; sometimes I think that I've learned all my succesful living skills there. Still working on most of them, but I'm making headway. Like today.

Two topics of succesful living that we hear often are concerning "change" and "expectations". These two are usually related. The old axiom is that "the only thing constant is change". Roger, got that one pretty well in hand. It's been forced on me lately. Expectations are harder for me. Expectations of things both good and bad can be killers. When we expect the worst to happen in any situation we live in the negative and bad things become self fulfilling. On the contrary when optimistic people like me constantly expect good things to come about just because we're good people doing our best, we can be hurt in the worst ways. I can give a recent example, but am trying to "move on" and "just get over it".

My expectations were altered again today by change. My Dad is now in the hospital hospice unit, most assuredly to spend his final days there. As reported just two days ago I was effusing gratitude that he would be able die at home. Though that has changed I'm still grateful. Grateful that we have options and that we have true friends who show up for us in emergencies. People who care and that don't just talk about "being there"....they are there.

As I left town for Lubbock yesterday afternoon, I stopped by my folks house for a check on the situation. Frankly I was heartened. My Dad was awake, mostly coherent and smiled as much of a smile as he could when I entered the room. We had a short conversation, which mainly consists of me telling him what I'm doing that day. My Mom seemed to have things in hand and was going to relax for the remainder of the afternoon. That's about as good as it gets there at any one time. That was at 3 p.m. Saturday.

But, sh*t change happens. As soon as I got out of church this morning my cellphone started ringing; neighbors, hospice calling. My Mom had fallen down [collapsed actually] several times and the doors were locked allowing no one to reach her. Thankfully, a neighbor remembered she had a key and they were in the house shortly before I arrived. The nurses strongly recommended that my Mom go to the hospital for a checkup. My Mom, God Love Her, is a person who knows everything and is always right so no hospital visit. Which left us with the most realistic and painful decision. My Dad would go to the hospital hospice care unit. Which is where I've been for the last two hours tonight, watching my Dad and talking with the good people at hospice.

Another axiom from AA: "Change is inevitable, peace of mind is optional".
I'm working on that and perhaps I still have part of last night's smile....or a little peace of mind despite today's difficult change.

Season over....

My newly found horoscope predicting an 11 year good luck cycle for me, apparently didn't carry over to the MHS Bulldogs. Or perhaps the ongoing win one/lose one factor was just too strong. The Bulldogs season ended last night at Texas Tech's Jones Stadium with a disappointing loss to Amarillo High School, a team we had defeated eight times in a row, including earlier this year.

The Dawgs did not have one of their better games and so things ended. Sad for the Seniors, many of whom I've gotten to know quite well, and sad for me too. During the past months of grief, I've enjoyed the diversion these activities have given me.

Tough, very tough....

My Dad could go at any time now. I think this fact has given my mom and me a new sense of calm. I recognize, at least for me, what this is. It is acceptance. Acceptance that we have done all that can be done, made plans, hired the best care and now we have only God's decision to await.

Dad has slipped rapidly in the last weeks, and I have been spending a lot of time with him and my mom. I can't begin to express the gratitude I have that God has put me here in this place and time to be there with them. With no other close kin available it has been hard to be "it", but God's plan put me here for this purpose and it makes me glad when I see my Dad's eyes light up when he knows I've arrived.

But I cannot begin to describe how tough it is. Tough watching a once vibrant and active person reduced to a mere shadow of himself, his body so withered that he has to have help moving. Tough having to have my Dad hold on to me with his frail arms so that he can bear the pain when we do something as simple as turn him on his side. And to hear him beg us to stop in a childlike voice. But what a blessing to have him look at me and know I'm there through the ordeal, much as I used to look at him in my times of trouble.

This is all made bearable with the help of friends and the caregivers from Hospice who started as complete strangers but who have shown our family as much or more interest, care and compassion than some others who we have known well. Many people who care so much about my Dad have come to say good-bye and I have friends who have described to me their experiences which has been a comfort. It is tough, but I am also grateful that I get to go through this final trial. Death is part of living and so few of us in this modern age get to carry the experience through to the end like this. As I learned with the death of the Big Gold Dog, there is comfort and future strength in having a loved one or pet die in God's time at home. And I know my Dad recognizes, as I try to do, small reminders of beauty in the world. He pointed out to me the other day how stunningly gorgeous the golden red leaves of the oak tree are outside his sunny window. I thought to myself, I hope I have such a lovely view when I go.

Thanksgiving...

Thanksgiving finds me at one of the most difficult times in my life. The loss of spouse, stepson, dog, and soon my Dad is at times almost overwhelming, and seems not to be at an end. Today I learned that one of my darling nieces is facing some, possibly, serious medical problems. Anger, resentment and sadness can be constant companions if I allow them.

Yet through all this pain, I am Thankful. Thankful for the basics of life. That in spite of four close calls with death that I know of and many more that I probably don't realize.....I have made it through another year. Thankful that I do have a multitude of friends who do care about me, deeply, and will be there no matter what. That I am sober today to be there for my Mom and Dad in their time of ultimate trial. Thankful that I finally learned to be honest enough to tell people that I'm not doing quite OK, and to learn to listen to their advice and accept their help with grace. Thankful that I finally learned that "happiness" is a fleeting thing, contentment and serenity can be permanent. Thankful for beautiful fall days and the gift to still recognize beauty through the sadness.

Thankful for the memory of a Big Gold Dog who gave me unconditional love, as few humans have, and for a little dog left behind who is grateful to finally be getting the attention she deserves, who just adores me, and wags her tail everytime I'm around. Thankful that God has put people in my life whom I can help, for I know that I receive more back than I give. Even thankful for some supremely tough times in the past that helped me realize that tough times do pass as today's shall too. And thankful and grateful that out of the wreckage of my drinking past I found AA which has taught me much of this attitude. Each day I remember the 11th Step of AA and two short prayers from the book Alcoholics Anonymous and a thought from the "Good Book", and remember where I was 14 years ago....and where I am now.

Step 11 – "Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood Him praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out".

"God, I offer myself to Thee—to build with me and to do with me as Thou wilt. Relieve me of the bondage of self, that I may better do Thy will. Take away my difficulties, that victory over them may bear witness to those I would help of Thy Power, Thy Love, and Thy Way of life. May I do Thy will always!"

Lord I know that others who cause me pain are frequently spiritually ill. God help me to show these people the same tolerance, pity and patience that I would cheerfully grant a sick friend. This is a sick person, how can I be helpful to him? God save me from being angry and resentful that I may live in the sunlight of The Spirit. Thy will be done.

Love is patient; love is kind and envies no one. Love is never boastful, nor conceited, nor rude; never selfish, not quick to take offence. Love keeps no score of wrongs; does not gloat over other mens sins, but delights in the truth. There is nothing love can not face; there is no limit to its faith, its hope, and its endurance.
1 Corinthians 13

Gretchen.....

Today was a bad day, singled out among many in the last months. My Dad is not doing well and I spent a fair amount of time with him and helping my Mom. I sat with him for a good while and watched him sleep, at times not being able to help myself in glancing over to see if he was still breathing. A sad time, but I'm grateful I'm here for both of them....and for me. Realistically we have to wonder whether he will make it to Christmas. But there was some reason for happiness tonight.

I feared the worst when my Mom phoned late in the day. But it was interesting news of another sort. An old friend of my Mom's, a beautiful young German girl was at the folks house and my Mom thought this a bad time for a houseguest. She wondered if Gretchen might come to stay with me for several days. I jumped at the chance! And here is a picture of Gretchen, a really stunning girl. Take a gander and come back.....

Gretchen, VaVa Voom!!

Gretchen is the dog of neighborhood friends of my family who are out of town for the holidays. Apparently Gretchen has experience in escaping her backyard and had done so today. Not able to contact her next of kin, we took her in. I was reluctant with D. Daphne Dog in the house, she being a little territorial and sometimes snappish at other dogs. And tonight was no exeption, especially with a canine interloper on Daphne's home turf. There was one terrific dog fight in my living room until I broke it up. But perhaps D. Daphne will be a tad more careful with whom she picks a fight next time. Gretchen is a BIG dog. A very sweet dog it turns out, but BIG. But all's well that ends well, D. Daphne and Gretchen, after much sniffing and worrisome looks are now the best of friends.

A thought on clowns

An article in today's Midland Reporter-Telgram gives the following general account of the clowns pictured above.....

several clowns of West Texas recently attended the annual Texas Clown Convention in Irving.

The clowns pictured won best all-around clown; best performance competition; in makeup and costume; in makeup, costume and singles skit; and together they -- won third in group "paradability."

I met these clowns and they're all women. They appeared, for all intents, to be very nice people, jovial and full of gaiety. Now here's what I wonder. I wonder if they realize that people know their lives are based on fakery? Do they think that people really believe that they're clowns? I wondered if, never content or satisfied with what they have, have they left husbands or are preparing to do so searching for the perfect Bozo to make them happy? Dressed up in their best painted on smiley, joyful faces are they more interested in "paradability" than love, compassion, understanding and devotion; are they clowns because they're so unhappy with themselves, living in fantasy not appreciating what they have in the real world? Do they think that happiness would be their's eternally if only they could be in the next big top? That's the problem with clowns, one never knows...nor do they.

**The above comments are the current sentiments of the author and are intended as a parable only and are not meant to disparage most women or clowns in general**

Life's trials and a wrecked foot....

I've heard the theory postulated in several places that God gives more hardship and pain to those better equiped to handle it than others. I'm sorry to say that I think God has great confidence in my abilities. In the past I've had to cope with a short, but emotionally painful trip to a war zone, five years of unmitigated hell in alcohol addiction, the divorce it caused and years of recovering from the pain inflicted on others due to the selfishness of that disease. Recently I've had the heart operation, a divorce and a dog who died in the same week, and the daily sadness of watching my Dad slip away.

And now we add, I think, another stress fracture in my foot; same foot as five years ago. Not as bad as death and divorce but miserable none the less. Walking three miles a day for my heart and mental well being has trashed my foot once again. For those who've never had a stress fracture it's like a bad bruise that never goes away. Rested for a few days it leads one to think he is healed. However after two days without walking there it is again, even more painful than before as it was for me today. Even one of the girls I pass walking every day asked if I was alright, the limp gave it away. "Sure", I said, "I always wince with every step". I usually try and soldier through these things but as I learned the last time, cracked bones don't get better with soldiering. At least I have the $250 broken foot ski boot dingus from the last time. I'll be bitterly disappointed if I have to give up walking for any time at all. I need all the endorphins I can get.

My Dad: God Bless him, he is trying to soldier on also, but has not regained much strength and has started on morphine regularly, which helps whatever pain there is, but more importantly keeps him relaxed so he can breathe more easily. Yet another nurse today told my Mother to let him eat all the chocolate he wants. This is the third medical professional that has told her this, yet she is like others I know that once an idea presents itself in her mind, she is right, and that's it, end of story. Still, I hope I don't have to sneak chocolate into him anymore....

Divorce recovery: In spite of church, ministerial counseling, family counseling, friends old and new and one heck of alot of AA, I'm sorry to admit that some days I'm more angry than ever. There has not been one night since the end of May that I've fallen off to sleep without some form of mental turmoil about that situation. Those who know me well, I hope, would say that I'm not one given to anger and when I am, allowing it to fester and I don't think I am. This is a first. This was a big deal to me, marriage should be. Love should be.

I've had comments from well meaning friends to the effect of "stop letting someone rent space for free in your head", "you know your former spouse ain't losin' any sleep over you" or more commonly, "get over it and move on". This last thought almost always coming from people, men and women, who are married to mature, loyal, compassionate mates who have no idea what this feeling is like. All I can say is that I'll be over it, when I'm over it. This too shall pass.....but may take quite awhile.

But God Bless Dr. Tim Walker at the First United Methodist Church for his Thanksgiving sermon today. It could have been straight out of AA. The message was "Attaining an Attitude of Gratitude". You've heard that here before. Too bad more didn't get to hear his message. And I am grateful for quite alot despite a wrecked foot and mental anguish. I've gotten to spend some good times with the Big Gold Dog and my Dad, knowing that each had not much longer to go. It's been a beautiful fall and God has a better road for me ahead.

Sweet victory in Sweetwater...

What a great day to be in Sweetwater, Texas as the Midland High Bulldogs defeated the Mansfield Timberview H.S. Wolves 26-22. The Wolves had a good team, and as usual, the Bulldogs had to fight back from a scoring deficit to win but the victory was ours. Perhaps the Wolves need a new mascot. My assistants and I thought the "Wolf" looked more like a very gentle bear.

And what a great day for picture taking with the new Nikon and lenses. In the good clear sunlight I didn't have to worry about the complicated settings [I have more of the manual to read!] that are necessary at the nightime games. I shot on "Auto" and on the super fast "Sports" setting and got great results as you can see in this shot of Brandon Batch [at far right] sailing into the end zone. You can see 100 more of the over 200 shots I took at the Bulldog Football website. Next week it's on to Lubbock for the second round of the playoffs.

Grand News.....

I'm glad I bought a new camera. I'm going to need it at The White House early next year. I'm pleased, honored and proud to announce that my good friend Bruce Crandall was notified this week that he will receive the Congressional Medal of Honor from President Bush. Bruce called late last night with this grand news and to get my social security number for security clearance reasons. That's Bruce on the right with Greg Kinnear who

played Bruce in the movie "We Were Soldiers". For those who don't know, Bruce volunteered to fly into an extremely hostile landing zone in Vietnam over a three day period, under constant fire. It is never too late to honor the brave!

His actions saved many lifes, at the risk of his own. I'm proud for Bruce and his family. Bruce and his wife Arlene are annual visitors to Bedford Drive and I anticipate a special get together in his honor this year.

Wolves at our door....

The Sibley Nature Center auditorium was overflowing for a talk by Emmy Award winners Jim and Jamie Ducher about their documentary film "Wolves at our Door". Their film is the highest rated documentary ever to appear on the Discovery Channel. I can see why. The story is fascinating and the cinematography is stunning. The Duchers lived with a pack of wolves in the Sawtooth Mountains of Idaho for

six years and became so trusted that the wolf pack would let them lay down among them and lick their faces. And we're talking some really big animals here..with really big teeth.

The film stresses the social and family nature of the wolf pack with some amazing examples of the complicated hierarchy and intelligence of the wolves. The Duchers are working to reintroduce wolves back into selected wild areas of the West; working with biologists and ranchers. They are having some success and will tell you that the wolves have actually helped the bio region around Yellowstone by culling sick, weak and old elk and deer. The wolves have also controlled the coyote population that was preying on young cows. For those instances where a wolf does take a domestic animal a fund has been established to compensate the ranchers. Sounds like it might work, I hope so. And the Duchers would like you to know that there has never been a documented case of a wolf attacking a human in North America.

Here's our own Wolf Man, Sibley Center director Burr Williams, with the Duchers. I gotta' love my new Nikon! The picture above was taken from about 80 feet away from a projection screen!

Sunset......

And what a pleasure to finally have a camera that will shoot spectacular scenes of November sunsets in low light like this one.

Visitors....

My sister, Susan, usually comes with her family for Easter from their home outside of Philadelphia. I had phoned her several weeks ago to tell her that if she wanted to make sure and see my Dad again she had better plan on coming before then. She arrived yesterday which cheered my Dad greatly, me too, I don't get to see her nearly as often as I'd like.

It's been a nice week for visitors for my Dad, but very poignant for me. Saturday he got to see my two best childhood friends, Bill and Ron, and I could see his eyes shine as the four of us relived some very pleasant times all those years ago. As we stood there I was grateful that we were all together again, but I also was saddened to know that, realistically, this is the last time Bill and Ron will ever see my Dad. And quite possibly my sister too.

3 Amigos

It doesn't seem right that sadness tends to be the thing that brings three old friends together, but I suppose that's natural.

Growing up in Midland I had three best friends, Bill, Ronnie [now Ron] and Rufe. Bill was the first kid I met in Midland when we moved here in 1960. He lived across the alley from me and that, I believe, is where we met. We were instant friends and have been for the last 46 years. Ron was a friend of Bill's whom I met not long afterwards and we too have been lifelong close friends. Ron and I share the same birthday. We went thru part of grade school, junior high and high school tied at the waist. The last time Bill, Ronnie and I were together was in 2000 at the funeral for Rufe's tragic and untimely death.

This weekend Bill, Ron and I were together to honor the passing of Ron's mother, Mrs. Billie Hunt. The mothers of my best friends were like second mothers to me. Sometimes you could tell them things that you wouldn't dare mention to your own mother or if you were stuck at the show on a Saturday afternoon you could call your friends mom to come get you. And they did and didn't think a thing about it. We were all very close then.

Mrs. Hunt was a kind, warm, generous and gregarious soul who was fun to be around and loved having the boys over. They were also the first people we knew who owned a color TV, so we were at Ron's house quite a bit. Bille was a founding member and perpetual patron of the Midland Community Theater and personally founded the Midland Symphony Debutante program, which is still in high gear today. Billie's health started to decline some years ago so she moved to Houston to be near her two sons, but I still called her at least once a year and her voice still sounded full of life and some degree of mischief. I'll miss the thought of her being gone.

But she and her sons were ready for her passing and this weekend was one filled of joyous remembrances, laughter and I got to see my two best amigos, along with Ron's wife and his fast growing son and other special people. Here's Ron, Bill and Me with a portrait of Billie which I remember hanging in their home.

Camera sic transit...

Eureka! My Nikon has arrived. Knowing that UPS hits this neighborhood beteen noon and 1:30 I stuck around so there would be no mistake in leaving my prize. And voila, the brown truck showed up right on time. Having used borrowed Nikon's recently I was able to set the camera up and in no time at all had my first shot. Impressive right out of the box with no adjustments. I've taken this shot many times with the old Sony and the clarity outside was always lost with the camera compensating for the dark interior. No more.......

Man bites bullet.....

Yep, I bit the bullet, the digital bullet and bought a new camera today. I had been wanting, acutally needing, a new one for a long, long time. My old Sony was made when Herbert Hoover was President and is long past it's prime. I have to say though that over the eight years that I've owned it, I've become accustomed to it's limitations and quirks and have adapted to get some very special shots.

After trying out various cameras over the last month or so, I bought the recently released Nikon D-80. It had come down to this or the similar quality Pentax, but the Pentax won't be making it's debute until December, and I wanted to shoot the remainer of football season with my new camera. What an upgrade for me. The D-80 sports 10.2 effective megapixels and a burst/continuous shoot rate of 3 frames per second. Hold the trigger down and it just keeps shooting, no time wasted while the camera reboots after every shot. Also the new color sensors are supposed to render stunning colors and sharpenss. Can't wait to try it out. It should arrive Thursday.

In other big news, and you may have heard it here first, Johnny's Barbeque has been sold! Hard to believe that after 6 decades Johnny could give it up. But it has been purchased by an Odessa steakhouse owner and should continue on in it's old tradition.

Vote.......!

I'm voting for the only candidate who asked for my vote........
....and smokes cigars, loves dogs and wears an airborne badge on his lapel.

The Kinkster!

You never know...

You just never know what value people put on different things. It's odd.

Saturday afternoon my main AA group, Serenity, held an auction of donated items to help defray the cost of some renovations to our meeting place. AA people are generous to a fault. People brought what their means allowed and since AA has a varied membership there were items small and large. Many people brought gift baskets that they had either put together or purchased. There were brand new small appliances, art good and bad, lamps, electronics, sporting goods, a dove hunt on one of the major ranches south of town, a weekend stay at a B&B a member owns in Fredericksburg, an antique coke machine and this year several larger pieces of furniture including a wooden filing cabinet I had my eyes on. I donated two of my favorite photos matted and framed.

We have 200+ members in our group and many of these drifted in and out, but for the most part 30 or so were present at any one time. I couldn't pass up buying some wooden gold gilt picture frames for $5 a throw. These are $50 items if bought new and I also had spied two antique rocking chairs with handmade embroided seats. I thought to myself that these would be the stars of the show with at least all the women bidding on them. A big box of CD's went for $95 so the chairs, I assumed, would go for well over the $100 mark. When the time came for the chairs no minimum bid was set and no one appeared to be anxious to open the bidding, so I offered $20...for both. Silence. Surely I thought someone really wants these and is just waiting to jump the bid way up. Silence. And then the auctioneer said, "Sold for $20".

I was stunned. How could people be buying fragrant soap gift baskets for $20 and $30 but I end up with two antiques for two 10 spots. But indeed I did. You can never tell what people are interested in.

I got my wooden filing cabinet for $90. My photos, I'm pleased to say, were bid on by 4 or 5 people and ended up going for $80. The going price, I suppose, for 8 antique rockers! Take a look, see if you think I got a deal, more probably a steal.

Rocker Update: I found out late this morning that the two rockers I bought were donated by a friend of mine. She wanted to know what I paid for them, but I wouldn't divulge that. Their family owned a famous West Texas business that I won't name but it rhymes with "Stinkies". These were from her grandmothers house at their ranch.

Post Game....

What a great evening for the MHS Bulldogs to slaughter the Lee High Rebels. We smeared them [now there's a word from my HS days]. Final score Dawgs 38 Rebels 21. A good game really and for many Bulldog fans rather troubling in the 1st quarter when the Rebels scored first and rather easily.

But the Dawgs responded in kind and kept up the effort. Star running back Brandon Batch went over 1000 yds. for the season; a feat made all the more special because his brother Barron was in attendance. Barron is the all time leading rusher at MHS and is now a running back for Texas Tech, though out of commission this season due to an injury. I had a nice visit with both brothers, nice kids.

Always a great time visiting with the players, coaches and other photographers during the game. A good evening, but everyone was ready to go home after the victory. It was cold...for West Texas. Enjoy some game pictures.

The Big Game....

It's the Big Day. The Big Game against crosstown rivals Lee High School. I'll be out at the stadium with my new compadres and compadrettes eating pre-game barbeque and cheering the Dawgs on while takin' some pix from the sidelines! See you there!

If it's game day, you need some pep!

Up from the doldrums...

Nothing like interesting activities to thwart further doldrumism.

I spent most of the afternoon, visiting with a recently relocated developer who has been in the local news lately. Things look to be brewing for me there. Bill is a new neighbor whom I met on my dog walks in the last months. We've become friendly and more than just talking business, he is a sports car racing enthusiast. Something I had guessed at by the really sweet Nissan NSX [top speed 165+ mph] he has had parked in the driveway occasionally. I found out today that among other "toys" he also has a Ferrari, soon to arrive.

Today while we talked business Bill, his wife and I drove down to Chaparral Racing to look around with my buddy Jim who manages the operations. Bill was impressed that the Chaparral Racing facilities have changed little from the glory days of the 1960's and that inside the nondescript buildings sit $5-7 million dollars worth of vehicles; the personal collection of owner Jim Hall. From a $1.2 million Ferrari Monza to a 1909 Cadillac to a classic 1957 Mercedes Gull Wing. All in mint condition. And like discovering King Tut's tomb, another whole room arrived at through a darkened old shop contains a Pennzoil Indy car, a 1963 Lotus Formula One car and a prototype racing Chevrolet Corvette that Jim Hall tested as well as a myriad of historic autos from the teens, 20's and 30's, like a Locomobile and a Whippet.

However the highlight of the tour was taking several laps around Rattlesnake Raceway, the test track. Bill was impressed, I loved doing that again, but his wife kept yelling, "slow down" so I'm not sure she liked it as much. I only got up to 90 mph.

Along on the tour were our soon to be County Judge and two members from a state transportion agency who may further our goal of having the Chaparral site be designed an historic area....and to have cars driving there again.

And....I've been wanting to do just a photo related Blog and here it is: Eclectic Photography

The Doldrums...

In spite of my best efforts, some days are just the doldrums for me lately. Losing loved ones will do that. Departed wives, stepsons, dogs and soon dads are not easy things to handle. Anger, resentment and sadness are things that will pass, with some work, but we have to let them run their course.

To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under heaven

A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep

In moments like these I start to think, a dangerous game sometimes for me. I get to thinking about cashing in the chips and moving to new locales. The "geographical cure" we call it in AA. If I'm not happy here every moment, surely I will be joyful every day if only [take your pick] I lived somewhere else, I did something else, I was with someone else.

In 1998 I associated myself with a group of guys in the oil business who were mostly working for themselves, but for the common good of us all. They were engineers, geologists and landmen. We all contributed money and/or professional services to get projects done. Since I was not in any of those professions we decided that my niche should be starting a mineral interest [royalty] buying program. Those were dark days in the petroleum business with oil prices dipping below $10/bbl. at one point. Mineral interests were proportionally cheap. Most of our partners and some outside investors would put up the money to purchase the interests while I organized the program, did the leg work and bought the minerals. For my work, I received a 10% direct participation in the fund. We bought minerals for three years.

Since then, things in the oil business have changed, to say the least. Oil prices have risen 5-8 times higher now increasing our funds worth by at least that much and drilling has increased on our holdings further adding to the value. My stake has grown from nice to really nice which is what gets me thinking. Cash it all in, move to New Mexico and be forever and eternally blissful.

Then, that AA trained voice in my head kicks in with the sometimes sad but always true axiom, "Where ever you go, there you are". Damn AA sometimes, but I remember what Abe Lincoln said, too; "People are just about as happy as they make up their minds to be". Where ever they are....

Pleasant day into night...

A good day to forget cares and woes while working with a good crowd on a beautiful day at the Sibley Center History Day and later, thanks to a kind invitation, a pleasant interlude this evening.

Living History.....

Cardinals: World Champions!

For those around the Midland area, especially if you have grade school children, you might like to visit the Sibley Nature Center's living history day on Saturday. Today was MISD day and we had close to 900 kids through the exhibits. Most appeared to be paying close attention to the "buffalo soldiers", ranch cooks and civil war soldiers, but all were thrilled when the muskets fired and the cannon's roared. A good time seemed to be had by the kids, as you can tell from this photo of my friend Martha and her class.

History Day pictures...

One day at a time...

I think it's important for my Dad to try and retain as much of normal life as he possibly can. Thursday has been our barbeque day for a year or so, one of his most enjoyed diversions. He loves to be out in public on the off chance of catching one of his old pals for a moment of conversation. Frankly he also enjoys escaping the clutches of negativity he encounters at home. His attitude changes dramatically when we have made the trip downtown and for the hour or so we sit in the restaurant.

Unforunately with his latest problems we haven't been able to make the trip; but I have picked up the barbeque and taken it to him. Today when I called to make sure he felt up to eating fat on a bun, I was rather shocked. His voice was as it had been 20 years ago, strong, clear and without hesitation. It was so different it really took me aback. I asked if he wanted me to pick up the sandwiches. Surprisingly he asked if he could ride along, though he didn't quite feel up to going inside. I picked him up and he made the trip in admirable fashion, especially enjoying the visit by several longtime employees of Johnny's who always ask me about him whenever I go in alone.

I really hated to take him back so soon, as his attitude soon sank back slowly. The thought of being back inside for the day and frankly my dear sainted mother were, I suppose the cause of this. How someone can continually find the dark lining inside a silver cloud as she does is beyond me. If you try, you can always find negatives in every person or situation, just as you can find positives. Why some people insist on dwelling on the former is a mystery to me and one that frankly I've had to face several times in the last four or five months. Negative thinking yields negative results. But my Dad and I cope with this the best we can. Sadly, I'm now to the point of sneaking large chocolate bars into him, which he hides in his bedroom. He makes a point of telling me not to let her see them.

But, my Dad and I had a pleasant ride on a beautiful fall day and for that I'm grateful. Tomorrow he and I have plans to bust him out for a trip to Swensons.

The Key....

And acceptance is the answer to all my problems today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing, or situation---some fact of my life ---unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing, or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment. Nothing, absolutetly nothing, happens in God's world by mistake. Until I could accept my alcoholism, I could not stay sober; unless I accept life completely on life's terms, I cannot be happy. I need to concentrate not so much on what needs to be changed in the world as on what needs to be changed in me and my attitudes. When I focus on what's good today, I have a good day, and when I focus on what's bad, I have a bad day. If I focus on a problem, the problem increases; If I focus on the answer, the answer increases.


From the book, Alcoholics Anonymous, pg 417

In the past months of run-away brides, dearly departed dogs, dying Dads and difficult Mothers, acceptance is indeed the key to whatever serenity I have in life.

I cannot make someone love me, keep Dad's or dogs from dying, nor at 83 years of age expect my Mother to change a lifetime of emotional character. I can, however, chose to accept these facts as they are and make the decision to do the next right thing, for me and those around me. God has a plan for me. I think he's narrowed it down to three choices: A] a rubber room in the looney bin. B] on a slab with a broken heart [literally] or C] becoming a stronger, wiser and more useful human being. God gives us the basics, it's up to us to carry it out. I choose "C", "A" and "B" are rather unappealing to me right now.

Balancing act...

Life with elderly parents these days is a balancing act. I juggle trying to understand my Mother's stress and help her cope, while countering her fatalistic attitude with a positive game face around my dying Dad. Like a high wire act we get perilously close to losing it and then regain balance and move on.

Today I signed the papers for my Dad to enter into home hospice, but not without some cross words between my Mom and Dad, who in their fear and anxiety say things I know they don't really mean. One moment my Mom decides that she can't handle this anymore, while my Dad says he's ready to go to a home and die, not easy to hear. But with a few moments of quiet and then some words about the reality, we're back on track to matters at hand.

The hospice people stress that their care does not mean the end, in fact, they say many people live for years in hospice and some even recover and end the service. Realistically these probably don't apply to my Dad, but he and I like to hear a positive attitude. This notwithstanding, I knew that by signing I was writing the final chapter in his life. Not an easy thing to do, but the care promises to solve problems for us all.

Two kind nurses spent all morning with us evaluating the situation, telling us of their services and making some initial suggestions. I was more than glad to be able to get them aside and ask them to try and help my Mom handle the situation in a more positive and less stressful manner. My dear Mother is the type of person, with whom I am not unfamiliar, who tends to make up her mind based on facts of her own invention, decide she's right and act on them.

My Dad's one joy, it seems lately, is eating loads of ice cream and chocolate bars. My Mom has decided that he should be eating only healthy foods, which she prepares, and that all the sweets is one of the things that has set him back. She has been somewhat miserly in doling these treats out to my Dad causing cross words between them. I've tried to dispel this theory, but with little success. I was therefore extremely pleased that when she told of how she was cutting back on the sweets the nurses said, don't, the fat and calories are good for him. Score one for the truth.

I had a nice spiritual refresher after the tough morning however; I had been asked to photograph the stained glass windows in the sanctuary of the First United Methodist Church and today seemed like a good day for that. So I had a quiet respite beneath those lovely windows and later a personal serenade by the practicing organist. While in church I often like to look at the beauty of the windows, especially the ones on the south side which receive so much sunlight and around noon today they were stunning. The windows portray Biblical figures as well as a few important founders of the Methodist Church such as John Wesley and the Texas Tech Red Raider guy seen here. Lest anyone in particular think I am sinful and making fun of the Methodist windows, this resemblance was first pointed out to me in church one day by an elderly, very pious and longstanding member of the church.

The balancing act goes on one day at a time and for today I'm grateful that we finally have made a positive decision about my Dad's care. I do alright with this mostly, but late at night it is hard to think about four living souls who you loved most in the world either dead, dying or having left on their own. Some days my own balancing act is just to keep a positive outlook. It sure is nice to see Daphne wagging her tail all day.