Air Show, Day 2.....

The first day of the Air Sho went well with good weather, some cloud cover [which makes it easier to spot the planes] with a fairly good breeze which was welcome on a warm day but necessitated the cancelation of some of the lighter and slower planes which fly some of the acts. My able crew and I helped an number of people including many WWII vets, who like my Dad, find it hard to walk even 100 ft. these days without effort. A privelage to assist them.

Here, with new photos added, is the Air Show 2006 photo album.

Air Sho....

It's Air Sho time again, normally one of my favorite, though busy, weekends. I have had a hard time getting geared up for the activities this year, for obvious reasons, but with some small responsibilities there and seeing old friends and meeting new ones I'm sure I'll get into the swing of things. One of the best ways to replace old memories is with new ones, I've been told.

Here are some first photos of Air Show 2006 many more to follow over the weekend.

Hope to see you at the Air Sho.....!

Law's of life.....

The last four months have been an extreme trial affecting me in many ways. One of which is difficutly in gaining sleep easily at night. During the worst I did try Ambien©, which frankly works like a charm. But being reborn in AA I know that one must eventually solve one's own problems without the use of sleep aids or other mood enhancers so I stopped taking it. The result is that I still have many nights where I toss and turn replaying old thoughts in my mind.

For some reason, the other night, the "Law of Unintended Consequences" popped into my brain. Why I'm not sure but I suspect it had something to do with the "attitude of gratitude" learned in AA. This being that each day we all have something to be grateful for and if we concentrate on the positive instead of the negative we are much the better off for it. My prime example is D. Daphne Dog. Left behind by a former resident who no longer had any use for her, she has become a blessing in my life, helping me through these tough times. An unintended positive consequence of a thoughtless negative action.

What was interesting to me in reading the Wikipedia article on that subject was the links to other laws, the most famous being Murhphy's Law. Probably the best known of life's "laws" this states that "anything that can go wrong will". Certainly seemed to apply to me, but even more importantly was the corollary which I had not thought of in a long, long time. Finagles' Corollary to Murphy's Law adds an important point, "anything that can go wrong, will...at the worst possible time" Having your divorce become final a week or so after your dog dies makes me think that I have indeed been "finagled".

As I try and work through the pain, hurt, anger and resentments of this I recall another more West Texas "law". "What goes around comes around". And this, I've learned in 1000's of hours in AA, does indeed come true. Life is not always fair in any given day, month, or even years, but it does even out. So I leave it in God's capable hand to give people what they deserve in life.

Transition Zone.....

I'm still, in fact even more, into transitional thinking brought about by unintended changes [on my part anyway]. I've been trying to clear my mind of recent events and heartaches and in doing so God has opened some doors through some very interesting new people I've met. Where the door leads is not fully apparent, but it seems to be promising.

So with transition in mind, I have over the last several days, been doing some transitional photography. This is what abandoned dogs and photographers do, take pictures of each other.

In the world of photography these are known as sepia's. My artist friend Polly Jackson tells me that in her more chromatic world they are mezzotints. So if you're in Santa Fe pick your medium if you're in West Texas they're basically weird pictures of me and the dog.

*No dogs were harmed in the making of these images

Prayer...

In between other duties this weekend I've been able to attend some of the sessions of the "prayer workshop" at the First United Methodist Church. During the last four months I thought that perhaps God had cut off his intercom to me. I've prayed for answers and guidance on matters big and small and it seemed that things only got worse.

I have been in more regular attendance in church over the last several years and, of course, I am a regualy attendee at AA. AA is spirtitual, church is religous, and for me one has enhanced the other. As we in AA say, "church is for people who don't want to go to Hell, AA is for people who have been there and don't want to go back". A cute saying but one that I don't hold too much to anymore. Several weeks ago while doing some photography work for the church I had a long private chat with head pastor Dr. Tim Walker about my defects, my worries and my pain. It surprised me to hear Dr. Tim say that if he had his way everyone who joined his church would be required to attend AA for a year before they became members. We all have our demons and addictions was his point, and that AA addresses the more humanistic way to become better people through religon.

I believe that I've learned more about "church religon" through the spirituality of AA than I would have otherwise and learned that the two go hand in hand. And I was reminded in AA that my "unanswered" prayers were not that at all. God has a plan for us all and if we will "turn our will and life over to the care of God, as we understand him" then we will be able to let God do for us what we cannot do for ourselves. Sometimes WE just need to get out of the way and let God's plan unfold for us. I'm working on that one...

And if I doubt that God has left my prayers unanswered I only have to remember back two weeks ago today, when I had been urgently praying to God that he take The Big Gold Dog in his own time and way. That's exactly what happened and I can never be grateful enough for that. I'm reminded too that there are three answers that God can give to our prayers; yes, no and not now. God is very busy, you can expect a great deal of "not nows".

Here's one of my favorite prayers....learned from reading it in the book of Alcoholics Anonymous.

The Prayer of St. Francis
Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
O, Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Sometimes life becomes more difficult, easier, more confusing and clearer all at the same time.

The Transition Zone...

Sometimes feeling like we were left behind with the same compassion that one throws out old newspapers, Daphne and I are glad for new friends to uplift our spirits. Like a visitor who had read about the Big Gold Dog and wanted to meet Daphne.

The Day Dawns Bright.....

Things change, life goes on, but God has a plan for us all. A spiritual base and many friends have helped in leading up to this day. Spiritual growth sometimes comes from hard lessons but I believe what in AA are known as "The Promises"....

If we are painstaking about this phase of our spiritual development, we will be amazed before we are half way through.

We are going to know a new freedom and a new happiness.

We will not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it.

We will comprehend the word serenity and we will know peace.

No matter how far down the scale we have gone, we will see how our experience can benefit others.

That feeling of uselessness and self-pity will disappear.

We will lose interest in selfish things and gain interest in our fellows.

Self-seeking will slip away.

Our whole attitude and outlook upon life will change.

Fear of people and of economic insecurity will leave us.

We will intuitively know how to handle situations which used to baffle us.

We will suddenly realize that God is doing for us what we could not do for ourselves.

God is doing for us what we could not do for ourselves. It's amazing how that works isn't it? Thanks God.

Today's cost of obeying God's will for me: Unfathomable heartache, $275 and time served.

D. Daphne Dog....

It was one week ago today that The Big Gold Dog passed away and as hard as it's been I don't think that I could have made it without D. Daphne Dog. D. Daphne has had a hard summer too. She was originally an abandoned puppy and then this summer she was left behind again by her previous owners. A tough deal for a dog not seeing familiar faces ever again. But she adapted well and it was nice for me to know that she was inside with Tres when I was gone during the day. I think they were good companions.

Now Tres is gone and Daphne is having, along with me, to adjust again. She's doing well but never leaves my side where ever I am. I'm sure she may be enjoying this promotion from spare dog to main dog, as Tres occupied much of my time in the last several months. And I'm enjoying her too. She loves to ride with me on various errands and being a smaller dog than Tres I don't feel bad about taking her along in the car and leaving her for a few moments as I run into the photo processors, cleaners or where ever. If ever a dog loved to ride, it's Daphne.

And she is a hoot. A very smart and inquisitive dog she's always up to something. This past week I had the DeAnda family interior contractors in repairing the leak damage in the den. There were sheet rock guys, plasterers and painters. Every time a new worker came in, we had to stop all work so that Freddy DeAnda could show them D. Daphnes tricks. On my question, "where's your toy"?, her ears stand up, she searches and finds her rope where ever it was in the house. Same with the ball, she knows the difference. But her "roll-over" was the show stopper. I don't understand much Spanish, but I could tell the guys were impressed.

Thanks D. Daphne for getting me through the week.

On the road again.....?

Before I delve into today's headline subject, I have to take a moment to once again thank and express my heartfelt gratitude to all those many, many people who left comments, emailed or phoned me concerning the passing of my best buddy Tres. It lifts my spirits to think that a Big Gold Dog and his love could affect so many people, for the messages weren't for me, they were for him. I know he got them. Thanks again, and when I regain my composure on that subject I intend to relate in more detail what a spiritual experience it was to be awakened by him as he left this world....a fact I've become more sure of in the last days. Since then, and dog owners know this, I have thought I've seen him sometimes sleeping in his old spots and last night as I walked barefoot over the tile floors where he used to sleep all night, I thought I actually felt a warm spot like I used to notice for hours after he'd gotten up...

So, On the road again? I think so. Daphne and I have been talking. It's sad to us that since last May the number of inhabitants at the Bedford Dr. estate has dwindled from a happy and joyous five living occupants [OK, some happy and joyous] to a paltry two inhabitants pared down by departures of both the heavenly and moving van variety. We are the expendable ones and we've been thinking of loading up the car and hitting the road.

My daily happiness doesn't revolve around having to have some trip in the planning stage, but I do like to get up and go occasionally. In the last year or so however, travel didn't seem as important as taking care of ailing dogs and Dad's. Tres is now on his last great trip and my Dad has nursing care several times a week, so it seems like a good time to venture forth upon the open road. In fact the Big Gold Dog and I used to motor around on occasion, our favorite spot being the Gage Hotel in Marathon, Texas, where they loved to accomodate both humans and dogs alike. We spent several wonderful nights there rocking on the front porch talking to interesting folks. There's nothing like a Big Gold Dog to help make friends. We also visited the Marfa lights, I saw them, Tres didn't. And I have to add that a former resident did plan some wonderful trips for us, frankly some of my happiest times, which I will remember for ever. But that's the past.

The future is that D. Daphne and I are going to be heading Northwest on a photo odyssey. The first three stops are planned and mostly booked. First will be the Hurd Gallery B&B in San Particio, New Mexico which is mostly booked if I can convince Michael Hurd that D. Daphne is OK to stay in the rooms. Next and completely booked today is onward to Galisteo, NM and the home of my artist friend Woody Gwin. Woody and his wife, Diana live in an historic adobe hacienda with guest quarters. Daphne and I will be the guests.

Next will be a short hop up to Santa Fe to the hacienda home of acquaintance Steve Northup, a celebrated Vietnam combat photographer. Steve's wife has also recently departed, she via the heavenly route. I say acquaintance because I've never met Steve personally, but have talked to him on the phone many times and emailed even more asking photo questions. He's often invited me up for a little personal instruction. Not a bad teacher, he's been nominated for three Pulitzer Prizes.

So we're in Santa Fe and where to next? As long as we're that far, and we're going to have think about this, but neither D. Daphne nor I have never been to Monument Valley. I've always wanted to see where all the John Ford westerns were filmed and, of course, it's a must once in a lifetime for any semi-serious photographer. And as long as we're there San Francisco is not out of the question. That's doubtful, but when you get driving it's hard to stop. I love San Francisco and haven't been there in ages.

The New Mexico portion is a must, October is my favorite month there. I assume we'll be leaving as soon as business and the Air Show are taken care of here at the beginning of October, in between football photo assignments and before my next sojourn to San Antonio in late October. The open road beckons....

The passing of The Big Gold Dog....

The Big Gold Dog, Tres, passed away without pain or discomfort and on his own according to God's will this morning at about 6:40 a.m. Both he and I were as prepared as we could be. Last night, as I have done for years I sat with him before I went to bed saying, "I love you, you big old dog". He was alert, looked particularly contented and knew I was there. I'm glad those were the last words he ever heard. I knew the end was near and dear friend that he was he went on his own without having to force me to make that painful last decision. I'm grateful to God that at least during the last several months he was able to enjoy his front yard and the many people who loved him and stopped to stroke his golden head. Or his friends like Snoopy, who got to stop by for one last visit in the final weeks. There has been no better friend on earth nor a more gentle soul.....

If there is any creature on earth that will be granted "express check-in" to God's eternal kingdom it will be the Big Gold Dog. He was my best buddy on earth and he taught me the true meaning of unconditional love, not only his for me, but hopefully mine for him too. His strength and will to go on doing the things he loved in the last month was remarkable. He now lies buried in my folks yard next to my last great golden pal "Ranger".

I know that he left me at 6:40 because, for a reason I didn't understand then, I awoke abruptly at the moment. As I have done for these last months of his illness I got up and went to look down the hall, not far from my bed, to check on him. He looked to be slumbering peacefully, which I now know he was, asleep in God's arms and waiting at the Rainbow Bridge. I went back to sleep and when I checked on him when I awoke again, I realized that he was gone, looking as peaceful and serene as he always has. I now know why I awoke at 6:40; I firmly believe that he left this good earth at that moment and his spirit passed over me one last time, letting me know he was going.

I held his head in my arms and told him goodbye again, and as I let Daphne in, she went right to his side and lay down next to him, knowing too that he was gone. I then called my friend and AA sponsor Robert who lives down the street to see if he could help move Tres to my parents yard where he would be buried. He said, of course, and was right there helping me move Tres to one of his favorite blankets in which we carried him gently to my folks.

I then I went to church, where Dr. Tim Walker, who had met the Big Gold Dog, offered to make a special prayer for Tres. Next to an after chruch AA meeting where most members knew of Tres' illness and offered their prayers for him. I had arranged for another Robert, a man I sponsor in AA, to come to the burial site to help me dig the grave for Tres and true to his word, he came as soon as I called. When I knew that Robert was on the way, I'll have to say that I finally broke down and sobbed like I have not done in decades, the finality of my best buddy's death had finally hit home.

Robert and I dug a nice grave in a shady spot of my folks yard, next to Ranger, my last Golden. With my folks in attendance we had a nice moment of silence followed by prayers from Robert and Myself. Tres was wrapped in his beautiful and clean blanket and I laid one of my favorite sweatshirts, one filled with my scent under his head as well one of his favorites treats, a rawhide bone. Robert and I closed his grave and I laid a golden lily over where his heart now rests. I had brought Dahpne to say good bye to her pal, and as a gift from God, she laid down right atop his resting place, a fitting tribute I thought.

I cannot tell you enough what the outpouring of emails, phone calls and personal sympathy that I have received today mean to me, as well as the beautiful flower arrangement sent by my old friends the Bynums. It's nice to know that although some people see fit to leave our lives at hard times like these, there are more than enough caring ones to take their place.

I went to two funerals yesterday, one for an old AA friend who had died elsewhere but had chosen to be buried next to her husband in Odessa. Kathy was from an old family in North Carolina, and although only 5 of her close family had flown out for the memorial the amount of flowers sent was staggering. As we left they invited me to take one of the arrangements, which I gladly did, a beautiful fall bouquet of fresh flowers that featured gold and rust tones. I chose these because they would match the living room decor. Kathy's sister told me of the strange coincidence that of all those arrangements I had picked the one that was sent by my friend Patti in North Carolina who had been instrumental in helping me get sober many years ago......and who had emailed me each day asking of Tres' condition. It wasn't until I knew that Tres was gone that I realized the significance of my choice of that golden bouquet, it was a gift from God to me early today, a message that Tres, the Big Gold Dog was home.

I don't mind telling you that I've been sobbing uncontrollably at times with the finality of my loss, there have been very few days over the last 10 or so years that I have not had him by my side. Tonight will be the worst, not having him laying with me in the office and not sleeping down the hall outside the bedroom. But with all the heartache I've had lately, God did give me another gift, D. Daphne Dog who will help with the continuity of my life and be a good companion to help ease the pain. In fact we're going walking right now.

I'm grateful for the skill and true caring of my Vet and friend Dr. Greg Adkins who stopped by almost daily to check and minister to Tres. Again, I cannot offer my profound thanks enough to all who cared about my best buddy, The Big Gold Dog.

To be free.....

"If you have a resentment you want to be free of, if you will pray for the person that you resent, you will be free. If you will ask in prayer for everything you want for yourself to be given to them, you wll be free. Ask for their health, their prosperity, their happiness, and you will be free. Even when you don't really want it for them and your prayers are only words, do it anyway, and you will be free. Do it every day for two weeks, and you will find you have come to mean it and to want it for them, and you will realize that where you used to feel bitterness, resentment and hatred, you will now feel compassion, understanding and love. And you will be free....

From the Book of Alcoholics Anonymous, page 552.

The Truth...

"And the truth shall set us free". And so it did with me today. Honestly, I had suspected the truth but had wanted not to accept it, but when the truth slaps you right in the face there is no ignoring it. I had expected better but shouldn't have.

No more naive hope, false optimism or positive expectations from a situation where there was none. The truth was a dagger and it delivered one of the most painful cuts and deepest hurts that I have experienced in all my life, but it is better to know than to have dreamed of what could have been.

The truth will set me free and now I have surrendered so that I might go on to win.

I'm here...I think

Just a note to let the world know that I'm still here. My free time has been busy lately. I've been updating the Midland High Football website which has included changing the entire site architecture, redoing rosters and stats with the contstant change that goes on within the team, not to mention going to most of the team and booster club events to take photos. But it is a fun assignment, I've met a lot of nice new folks and kids and the booster club has rewarded me financially. In fact with far more than I think I'm worth. But thanks.

I have been busy, also, tending to the care of the Big Gold Dog. Frankly there have been days lately where I thought the end was hours away. For 24 hrs. he did not move from the same spot, although he would still eat a little and drink water if I brought these to him. Bologna and cheese was his entire meal somedays....eschewing all his regular treats and dog chow. I have consulted his Vet, Greg Adkins and close friends regularly about his condition and whether I am doing the right thing with him. All who have seen him agreed that as long as he still has the light in his eyes and the will to get up and go out front occasionally he should be allowed to go on, as he does not seem to be in pain.

In fact today, he was up and around, rolling in the grass out front and actually ate an entire bowl of food. OK, so I fixed him a pound of hamburger, he needs his protein, at least he finally ate a large quantity. The last several nights have been taxing as to get him outside and back inside while it's dark is a feat. Though he can make out objects during the day, at night he is for all intents blind. I lead him in and out which he...and I are getting used to.

The final day will come soon, but I've never seen a dog with such a strong will and constitution and I'm not going to give up on him as long as he has the desire to go on. I'm just grateful that I've gotten to spend these extra days with him.

Bulldogs....!

I'll have to say that roaming anywhere I please on the sidelines of a Midland High Bulldog football game beats sitting in the stands. Yessiree I had a great time on my first outing as a semi-official photographer for the football team and the booster club. Not only do I get to watch the plays from ground level, some coming right at me, but I was free to sit in on the offensive, defensive and special teams confabs during the game, talk to coaches and players when they had time and give a few rah-rahs directly to the guys who had made the big plays.

Yes sir, beats sittin' in the stands. Here are a few digital photos of the game. I've got two rolls of 35mm. yet to be added.

Football...

As some other blog somewhere recently noted, it is football season. I like the start of the season because it means the most beautiful season, Fall, is upon us and I do enjoy watching the college season unfolding. But I've grown to appreciate high school ball more over the years as the Pro's have become more, well Pro, and the college games have become, once again, more Pro. High School boils the game down to a more simple philosophy and here in Midland, anyway, almost any kid can suit up and be a member of the team, some getting small playing time for sure, but on the team none the less, which is supposed to be the purpose of a "game" for teenagers.

This year it will be exciting for me to be a Midland High Bulldog fan. I will get to be upclose and personal at many of the games, on the sidelines close. I have become the new maintainer/photo person of the Midland High Football website operated by the MHS Football Boosters. I was chosen for the job after an arduous selection and screening process over many months, beating out numerous other applicants.

Well, not quite, I was roped into doing the job by my friend Mike P. and his wife Martha who are the Presidents of the booster club this year. Anyway, it pays a small stipend and I do get to sideline the games and shoot photos which should be fun. The site is being upgraded and updated. If you're a Bulldog fan check it out, we plan on having many more pictures, some up already.

Aerial photography...

There is nothing better than to get to do two of your favorite activities and having someone pay you do to them! Today, thanks to Streams commentor Janie S., I got to do just that. Janie is one of the head salespersons at a major oil field service company and she had called me several weeks ago to see if I might like to take some aerial photos of a major "frac" job that they were doing for a client. With some trepidation of lining

everything up I accepted the job. The first step in aerial photography is to have some means of being aerial, and with that my friends at the CAF volunteered to help as long as costs were met and a small donation tendered. No problem there, so my friend and chief CAF pilot Randy Wilson agreed to fly the mission in our newly restored Fairchild monoplane, "Tarbaby". Randy is as good as they come being qualified to fly most everything in the CAF inventory.

The "Tarbaby" was built in 1946 and is how flying should be enjoyed. It is a fabric airplane and the windows roll down so we flew open air style. It has enough power that we could cruise at about 100 mph though going south with a good headwind we were making around 80 mph. Following the highway to Rankin there were a goodly number of Texas motorists almost keeping up with us, but all the better to enjoy the scenery.

We found our target site just north of Rankin without much trouble and Randy was able to make slow looping orbits over the well site to allow me to shoot photos, both digital and 35 mm, to my hearts content. Low and slow is good for aerial photography. After about 20 minutes "on station" we headed back north to the Windwalker Skeet Shooting Club to take some shots of a big charity event that Janie and her company were helping to sponsor. Then back to Midland International Airport were Randy brought the Tarbaby in to a smooth if not tricky landing on runway 160 L [above]. The Tarbaby has a tendency to lurch to the left when it lands. Dramatic but not too difficult for a skilled pilot.

A great day and thanks to all. And with a nice check coming in from friend Joe Galloway and our We Were Soldiers photo site, it's going to be a good month to be in photography!

Ralph and Stringbean...

Today's photo of the day is one of my favorite pictures of some of the personalities in the oil field. Ralph and Stringbean were doing an acid frac job for us when I caught them in an idle moment. I never found out Stringbean's real name.

An Apple a Day....

As you undoubtedly know, the Big Gold Dog has had his share of medical problems lately and has occupied most of the time I've alloted for veterinary activities. But, today was D. Daphne Dog's turn at the Shannon Animal Clinic. I wasn't really sure when the last time she had been checked over and had her shots. She certainly has not worn official tags since I've known her these last 4 years. Besides she's developed an ugly rash under her skinny little arms that hasn't responded well to topical dog creams I have on stock.

She also has the habit and running willy-nilly through the shrubery sometimes scratching herself up pretty badly. She has one of these wounds working now too.

So this afternoon D. Daphne had the pleasure of visiting Dr. Greg Adkins and staff. I say pleasure because my dogs seem to enjoy the experience greatly. Tres goes immediately for the receptionist with treats and today Daphne learned that if she stuck her snout over the counter she got a toy to play with.....and keep. Daph had her shots and a good check over by Greg who was concerned enough about her skin problems to put her on antibiotics for a week. All's well that ends well...

Except now every being, human or doglike, in the house is on some type, or several, medications. Tres is on two, one taken every other day, one every day. Daphne's meds are taken twice a day. Luckily mine are taken only at bedtime. But with all this medicare going on I've had to print up a calendar and stick it on the refrigerator with our own personal schedules. And by more turkey ham, which I've found is the best and cheapest treat to wrap the dogs meds in, they swallow it whole. Fool's 'em every time. I don't need turkey ham for mine.

Gold Dog Photos...

For many years now I have felt badly about not having a photo display of the namesake of my website, The Big Gold Dog. Gold Dog's have always been my boon companions and frankly many years ago my last golden, Ranger, kept me going through some tough times. And now Tres is filling the bill [along with Daphne]. With Tres' advancing age and medical difficulties I didn't want to wait and make his photo section a memorial, so here's the photo spread on the current Big Gold Dog. It's in Flash format so you can either sit back and let it run through the photos automatically or you can select your viewing using the tools at the bottom of the screen.

Roof Redux....

Not surprisingly with roof repairs, during last weeks heavy rains I discovered one recalcitrant drip in the den, in a spot that had a leak previously. Since the interior plaster already had been ruined, it is no big matter and on the positive side the other major leakages have been stopped cold.

Yesterday I called Frank Shepard whose company did the repairs and he said he'd have the crew out early this morning. And he did, come 7:15 they were on the roof having at it. I left them to their work and when I returned for lunch they were gone, but they must have worked like men possessed as there was dirt, old tar and roofing stones all over the patio. After some lunchtime work it is now clean and spiffy and I welcome the chance of storms today to see if the roof is finally sealed.

In other hometime news of no importance whatsoever, for years I have been trying to find flowering plants that do well in the mottled sunshine in the flower beds of the estate. I have recently had great luck with Lantana in areas that get more sunshine and now at the suggestion of master gardener Burr Williams I am trying Turk's Cap Malvaviscus grandiflorus. It appears to be doing wonderfully and if succesful will soon be my plant of choice [to hell with caladiums]. Turk's Cap provides colorful red blooms, is a luxuriant dark green plant, grows like a weed [actually I think it may be classed officially as such], gains good height and is a perennial. Who could ask for more?

After several bad days late last week the Big Gold Dog is doing better than he has in some time which is great news. In the bad news dog category, D. Daphne Dog has had a lingering, pernicious and malordorous case of gas since I let her in early this morning. As I file this report the assault is unabated so I must abandon the premises.

New Mexico Photography.....

View some of the photos using Flash navigation that I've been working on to print. Hope you enjoy them. New Mexico Photography

Sweet music...

Never in my wildest imagination did I think that the sounds of gravel being scrapped from my roof would be such sweet music to my ears.

Early this morning Mr. Shepard, owner of Shepard Roofing, called to say he was going to "try" and stop by this morning. Mr. Shepard is a fine man and an old fixture in the Midland roofing game, but through the last year I have learned that "try" in the roofing business means less than a 50% shot of something actually happening. But today the odds were in my favor as Mr. Shepard and one of his crew chiefs did make an appearance, though I also learned that in the roofing business making an appearance doesn't necessarily mean action either. But as you can see from the photo above today was a day of action!

The gravel is being scrapped back in preparation for retarring the flat portion of the roof that is leaking. When this is complete and after two seperate one inch plus rains in the last 4 days, I'll get to call my other good friends the DeAnda family plasterers to, once again, come and repair the inside damage. I find that plasterers are people of action, so all should be renewed shortly.

Update: No wonder the roof leaked. The roofers discovered a very long crack in the tar running almost the length of the flat roof directly over where most of the damage has occured inside the house. This was not visible until all the lava rock gravel had been removed.

Dog update.......

How's the Big Gold Dog you ask. Well, considering all, he's doing pretty well. He's still up for trying his morning walk, though some days we don't make it as far as we used to, but he gets an "A" for effort. His eating has slowed down since he's not on steroids anymore, but he does OK in that department too. Mostly he likes the cool comfort of the tile floors in his home with short trips out to the front yard to laze about. Being mostly deaf and very short of sight these days, I think he enjoys the trips out to savor the smells. And because he can't keep track of the world like he used to, he stays close to me. After an excursion to sniff the yard for strange smells he usually comes back to the porch and the glass front door where he can see me. But thankfully, he is doing better than I had expected a month ago and God has blessed him.....and me with more time together.

Blogathon....

My Dos Amigos in Blogville, Jimmy Patterson on the right and Eric Siegmund at left are hanging out this afternoon as part of Blogathon 2006. Both are braving the HEB supermarket lobby in the name of Midland Fair Havens, a very worthy cause. They'll be online today and thru the night. Stop by and make a donation. I've already won a contest....the list of prizes is staggering.

Dinner in jail...

I've started doing something, again, that I had done some years ago. Sponsoring some of the young guys incarcerated in the County Residential Treatment Center, CRTC. The CRTC is a lock up facility that provides substance abuse treatment for, generally, younger men who have done some fairly serious, though not life threatening crime, due to drugs and alcohol. Sponsoring is mentoring, mostly, the guys in the ways of AA and teaching them sober living without crime. A Big Brother for bad kids I suppose. Tonight was graduation night complete with speakers and a nice [for jail] dinner.

I had two of my guys graduating from the phase one program which means that after 3 months of being locked up they are deemed trustworthy enough to be released during the day to work. Both were proud as could be to get their certificate and the younger of the two achieved his GED while locked up. Pretty good for a 23 y.o. who has been a drug dealer since he was 17 y.o. The other is a somewhat older guy, a navy veteran, who let drugs lead him into a life as a methamphetamine producer. He found a good job his very first day out looking.

I hope both these guys get something out of our relationship, but if they don't, I sure do. At a sad point in my life there is nothing like helping a fellow human being out of a life of misery to make me grateful for what I have. The tragic stories of these kids family backgrounds makes me grateful for my more normal upbringing.....as does the sound of the steel door unlocking to let me out!

Special Order..

The first part of my special photo order went out today and after 6+ hours of work on these shots I have to say I'm starting to know how true artists feel when the sell and ship one of their works. After spending so much time with the piece and having it come out well, you rather hate to give it up. But the beauty of photography is that most always you can print more to match the original.

As you may know most all of the work is setting the image up to get ready to print....so many decisions! Each of the larger prints took at least an hour to decide on brightness/contrast, level of clarity, how much "noise" removed looked good or better or removing a powerline here and there. Also on this job I did discover a real printing key for my relatively low pixel camera......the "bicubic resize" function, turning mere 750 Kb digital files into behomth 22 Mb beauties allowing for much larger prints with good results.

And as always I messed around with cropping some photos which, overall, were not too bueno and turned them into unsuspecting surprises. The Ruidoso Downs image is one. Seen here in it's puny web size. The print in a 4"x11" mat looks great.

A lot of work late last night, but it was worth it, the client is a special one.

A cold snap.....

You know that you have been living in West Texas awhile when the temperature on your 5 p.m. afternoon walk is 94° and it feels almost cool. An easterly breeze helped and with the wind whispering through the pines that line the Windlands Park track it could have been the cool mountains of New Mexico. Well, not quite, but 94° felt a whole lot better than 101º.

On another note, I bought a new printer and have had the time lately to put it to good use converting many of my digital images into prints. I had a special request to do some landscapes, but the person who wanted these didn't stop to pickup them up so they were lying on the kitchen counter. I was surprised when someone else saw a couple and wanted them, even paying for the frames and mats I had put them into. Always nice for people to like your shots. I have 3 seperate photo editors and never cease to be amazed at the way small changes in the formating of the image turn out so differently in the prints. Unfortunately I'm generally limited to 5"x7" prints due to the lack of pixel power in my camera, but I've always loved black and white images and these turn out remarkably well. Here's one printed yesterday and gone today of the mountain pass bewtween Mora and Taos New Mexico. The prints look significantly better than this compressed web friendly image. And here's an added shot from the series in color as a comparison, Mora, New Mexico

Airborne School...!

There are those who think that reviving the past in our memories is rather wasted. One should be thinking of the future. But, as we learn, those who forget the past are doomed to make the same mistakes over again. I find also, that when taken in perspective, the hard times of today are nothing as when compared to some in the past. Gratitude in a perverse way.

In the last post I recounted my hot 3 mile walks everyday and while on those walks, miserable as they may be, I often think back to 35 years ago and recall that todays hot three mile walks "ain't shi" squat compared with "hell on earth"....US Army Airborne School. I actually went on to another school after Airborne that was more demanding physically and mentally, but Airborne School was my awakening.

The U.S. Army Airborne School is located at Ft. Benning, Georgia which in the summer is truly hell on earth, even without physical exertion. The daily temperature was in the mid to upper 90's but the humidity was 40% or better. This is one of those army experiences where you had better be in shape when you arrived or it was too late. A drill sergeant later told me their goal was to wash out at least 30% of the class in the first two days. I think they did that and more in my class. Anyway, I had two fraternity brothers who had been to Vietnam already and the only advice they gave was that if you go, brother be in shape. The fat, slow and dumb get killed. I took this to heart, "Fat=Dead" "In shape=Alive". I don't think I've ever completely given that thought up. So, while I was in the relatively sedentary Infantry Officer Basic Course, I had run more than required on my own and was in pretty good shape.

The airborne course is 3 weeks long, the first week being designed to weed the weak sisters out with long, long runs and some basic airborne techniques. The uniform every day was the old army fatiques that were thick as denim, heavy boots and the issue steel helmet that weighs 5 lbs. and is dark colored to absorb heat, with the chin strap to be buckled at all times. This makes it difficult to open ones mouth wide enough to suck in much air at all while running. Shirt sleeves not to be rolled up. The only concession to the heat was that we got to untuck our pants legs from the boots and roll them up to the top of the boot.

The airborne day got started at 5 a.m. with the order, "fall in on the cables". The cables being just that, long orderly rows of wire cables on which one put the toe of his boot to form ranks. Being an officer I lived in seperate quarters from the enlisted swine, so I always got to the area at about 4:50 a.m. having eaten just enough breakfast so I knew that it would be digested by the time the barfing started an hour later. After roll call the daily orders were dispensed through WWII era loud speakers placed all over the company areas. We later agreed that all we ever heard was, "Attention in the 49th company area....". All after that was garbled gibberish, the announcer being so enthusiastic that he yelled so loudly into the microphone that it caused static throughout the entire system. An occasional word of English slipped thru, but the announcer might as well have been speaking Mandarin Chinese, we didn't understand a word. Nor, did we have to, we had no latitude in what was going to happen to us that day anyway.

From the first formation we moved to "physical training" or PT, aka sanctioned torture. About an hour of calisthentics followed by our first run of the day, a three miler around a circuitous asphalt path, running in boots, the heavy fatiques and those damned helmets. Since the sun was now up, it was already hot. The army's solution to overheating was to have overhanging showers along the track about every mile which sprayed down upon the formation whether you wanted to get soaked or not. It felt pretty good, until your soaking pants started cutting rashes into your crotch. This is when I first learned not to wear underwear in some situations. There was another 2 mile run after lunch, so those who had not barfed enough in the morning could have another shot. I can't describe the feeling of all that sweat pouring thru heavy cloths, crotch rash burning and with the helmet on, no way to wipe the drips from your forehead as they ran into the eyes.

In the first week there were a few hours of instruction in the afternoon covering things like how to put the parachute on and how to properly land after jumping. The army uses a "5 points of contact" method when your body comes crashing to earth so we worked on this for days. It involves landing on the balls of the feet, rolling to the calf, the thigh, the side of the butt and then the curve of the back. We practiced this off of 4 and 6 foot walls into pits of sand, dirt and sawdust. All of these materials stick like clue to sweating bodies and increase the misery of the heat dramatically. With 400 or so people practicing in a group, the wait in the sun for your turn to be critqued was long. Good fun waiting for a 2 second experience only to be told by the instructor, "no good, do it again". The instructors, by the way, were the cream of the crop in the army, were good, demanding and could and would curse like.....well drill instructors. Mostly spitting right into your face from a foot away while doing so. The only concession to me as an officer was that after their cursing tirade they'd have to add a "sir" usually with a big, fake grin.

The second week was filled with many fun filled apparatii designed to simulate aiborne operations. Here are a few in pictures...

The "suspended harness" apparatus shown above is used to give trainees the feel of hanging in the parachute harness and work on manuevering the chute thru the "risers" coming off the harness. New jumpers need pay special attention to rigging up their harness as the main support straps go thru the legs on either side of some delicate male property. If the trainee gets it wrong he'll know it when the instructors raise him 4 ft. off the floor.

The "swing landing trainer" above is the most dreaded device of airborne school. It is used to show trainees what it is like to be coming down near the ground in a chute while drifting in one direction and at the same time swinging like a pendulum. The trainee steps off of a 12 ft. platform and is swung, and towed ahead while an instructor lowers the man nearer the ground with a pulley. Whenever the instructor is ready, he releases the pulley rope and down goes the jumper. The job description for instructors here requires some knowledge of sadism, as most of the time they will release the poor trainee when he is highest in his upswing sometimes many feet off the ground. I usually landed very hard on my helmeted head, more than once knocking me dizzy.

Moving on from the more static training aids, the new jumper confronts his first real test with heights...the 34 ft. tower. As you can see above it simulates an aircraft which the jumper practices exiting. He then drops about 8 ft. before the harness catches him and he slides down a long cable to make a practice 5 point landing. Actually rather fun after you've done it several times, but the wait on the stairs for the 50 guys ahead of you wasn't. One of my favorite personages, ever, in the army ran this device. SFC Dudley, was a black veteran who looked and sounded exactly like Jeffrey Holder, who did the 7-Up "uncola" ads years ago. SFC. Dudley would laugh just like the uncola man as he whacked you on the ass and shoved you out the door. Honestly I came home many a night with his hand print on my butt.

At the end of the 2nd week of training the day of reckoning occured, being dropped from the 250 ft. tower. Shown above is the tower itself and some poor soul being towed up. The towers dominate the training base and remind you that you too will have to face this demon. The jumper is strapped to an open parachute which is attached to a round frame with a stout nylon web strap going around the whole frame. A cable is attached to the center of the chute and up you go, and up and up. For those not used to open heights, it is frankly scary, yet exciting. Up and up with nothing to look down upon but your boots and the specks below which are people. Getting to the top you hang there for what seems an eternity. You must, yourself, pull the nylon safety strap out and when that falls away, the center cable is released and down you go. The wind was always an important factor, for if it switched directions during your descent you had the good possiblity of being blown into the tower superstructure, there to hang until a brave soul climbed up and got you free. I saw this happen, luckily after my turn, it would have scared me to death. The other possibility is that the wind would gain strength suddenly and carry you where you weren't intending to go. Like through the window of a mess hall. This too happened while I was there.

The final 3 days of Airborne School are devoted to actually jumping from a C-130 aircraft. Many people will tell you that after the 2 weeks of the hell period, the jumping is anti-climatic. Not really but you are just glad to get it over with. It is a lot of waiting and soul searching. Will I do OK, will I be a "no go" and chicken out. Some did, most jumped, the kid behind me was crying, I couldn't I was an officer. The experience is exhilirating, particularly when the open the door at 120 knots. The training pays off, the green light comes on and you go. I ended up making close to 100 jumps in my army career, many at night. I was never injured seriously and frankly after all that training I don't think that I ever made one of those "5 point landings". Mine all seemed to be 2 point landings. Feet and butt.

Hot stuff.....

Since the old Memorial Stadium track is closed for upgrades I've had to move my daily walking location to Windlands Park. Around 5 p.m. it's been perfect walking weather, about 102° with no shade. Most assuredly hotter on the dark asphalt trail. The park does have several advantages as it is a bit more interesting than walking around a track 12 times to get 3 miles in and is less crowded with activities; there just don't seem to be many Midlanders interested in 102° walking. With virtually no one else on the trail and with my weight down to a "svelte" 190 lbs. I've also been able to take my shirt off and get a tan like I haven't had in ages, even with 6 o'clock sun. If you are not from these parts, at 6 o'clock we still have almost 3 hours of daylight left this time of year and with not a cloud in the sky, an evening tanning opportunity is available.

I have to say that at about the 2.5 mile mark I do often wonder if I'm going to make it. My thought is that either it will really toughen me up or kill me. If I don't report in here for several days, come out to Windlands Park and look for a mumified, really tan old guy by the side of the trail.

Viewers choice.....

Olé it's the dancer!

Bravo the red chair!

Medical wrap up...

As I've gotten several emails from folks, here's one last post on the medical condition of the Big Gold Dog. Unless something drastic happens. I do get tired of talking about people's or dog's medical conditions. Sometimes it seems like the only topic of conversation. There is my Dad, who although doing well on a daily basis, could have something dire happen at anytime. My Mom has recently been through back problems and "other" complaints that she won't talk about because if we "only knew" how bad they were, we would worry about her. She prefers to do all the worrying. Then there is my cardiac condition. Feeling great, walking 3+ miles a day, down to 190 lbs. but if you've ever had major surgery there is always that remote fear lurking that although the Docs say you are doing marvelously, they really aren't telling you the whole story. All these medical concerns and the other major stress ongoing in my life does make for an extra level of worry about my ticker and makes me want to talk of other things.

But, as to the Big Gold Dog. He started on his oncological medication today, which is a human anti-inflammatory agent that he will take every other day for a month, at which time he will be re-evaluated. The hope is that the medication will keep the tumor at bay or perhaps even shrink it a little. One improvement in the last day is that I no longer notice blood in his urine which has been a worry. He actually is feeling quite well thanks mostly to the steroid compound that he is on which has increased his ability to move his old bones around and eat more than he has in quite a while. We still go on our several block walk each morning and he still loves to sit in the front yard and watch the world go by.

Thanks for your prayers and good wishes.....

Ultrasound diagnosis....

The Big Gold Dog enjoyed the 40 mile round trip to the vet's in Gardendale for his ultrasound scan and he liked meeting new friends and his visit with Dr. Evans. The ultrasound proceedure is simple, short and painless but I wish I had better news, although it was not unexpected. The ultrasound confirmed Dr. Adkins suspicion that a tumor is present in the bladder. The extensive bleeding of last Thursday was caused by a tear in the tumor which was evident in the scan. Tres is urinating without problems now but there is evidence of blood as he finishes up his squating. This, explained Dr. Evans, is caused by the bladder pressing in on the tumor as it is evacuated.

But there is hope. Dr. Evans has consulted with Dr. Adkins about a fairly new medication developed by a veterinary oncologist in Houston that has shown good results in slowing bladder tumor growth. An anti-immflamatory drug, it may even help Tres feel better in his old age. More aggresive treatments are, of course, available but come with "quality of life" issues that would be unacceptable at this stage in The Big Gold Dogs life.

Thanks for all the concern in comments and emails.

Home at last....

The Big Gold Dog is home at last after a very stressful two days for us both. Quite frankly, yesterday morning I had thought that he just might not make it. As he lay in a large pool of blood on the front porch, a permanently imprinted vision of a young man dying in a pool of blood 35 years ago came back to me. Just as 35 years ago, help might come to late, I was going

to have to accept the fact that this is how it would end between my best buddy and me. But as you may have read in the last several posts, God would bless us this time and we were able to get to help in time. Tres is on several different medications, will have an ultrasound scan on Monday and will have to be watched closely, but seems to be feeling well. A trooper of an old dog, he came right in after we got home, got a treat, a big drink of water and went outside directly to the spot of so much tension yesterday and went to sleep under the watchful eye of Daphne.

Some people might not understand, but after some heartbreaking events in my life, to me it just doesn't get any better than to have your best buddy alive and back home.

So the reader does not wonder about Daphne, well she's never had it so good. She's gotten more attention of late than she's ever had, has a new bed, a new collar and will go in for her check up soon. She's also being walked every day and has finally started displaying less neurotic behavior on the leash. She's a good dog.

[and I have to add a special thanks to all the people at Shannon Animal Clinic who also love The Big Gold Dog and took such wonderful care of him. They're the best]

From the Sick Bay...
Just returned from the morning visit with the Big Gold Dog. With the help of antibiotics and anti-inflammatory medication he's feeling great. I took him for a short walk down the kennel corridor, where he urinated normally and with only a slight amount of blood still visible. He felt like eating almost a quarter of a box of small dog treats and didn't want to get back into his hospital bed. Nosiree, he's ready to go home. After a bath, he'll be good to go at about 3 o'clock this afternoon. Daphne and I will be ready for the Big Gold Dog to be back where he belongs. This is good news. On the side of reality, Dr. Adkins has x-rayed him again and feels that the cause of the problem is most likely a tumor. He recommends that we do an ultrasound scan next week to see if we can see more definitively what's going on and make a decision as to the course of action from there. Frankly, there may be nothing that can be done, except to pray, make him comfortable and accept God's plan for us. Acceptance is the key to my serenity today.

Big Gold Dog..
Say a little prayer if you kindly would for Tres, The Big Gold Dog. He's resting now at Shannon Animal Hospital under the magnificent care of our friend and saint, Dr. Greg Adkins. This morning I had trouble rousing Tres to go outside. When I heard him get up and start for the door I walked from the kitchen into the living room and was horrified to see a large pool of blood where he stood. He went outside and immediately collapsed onto the front porch, where I could see yet more blood appearing. At this hour of the morning I had to wait for Greg to get to the clinic and then worry that Tres would even have the energy to get into the car, being far too large to lift by myself. Trooper that he is, however, he finally struggled into the car and we raced to the hospital.

Greg saw us immediatley and determined that the blood was coming not from his rear end as I had supposed but through his urinary tract. The large amount of blood I had seen was actually largely urine with blood in it. Not good none the less. Greg gave Tres intervenous fluids and analyzed the urine/blood sample, finding the white blood cell count to be good, which does not negate a tumor but makes it less likely. As things are now, Greg knows that there is a blockage but the cause could be an infection, a calcium deposit, a broken blood vessel or perhaps a tumor. Greg will be taking X-Rays and doing some other tests while I'm gone.

I'm going to check on the Big Guy at noon. I'll update when we know something more....thanks.

4:15 PM: The signs for Tres are encouraging later this afternoon. He is eating treats and drinking water and wanted to walk around. Good signs. Greg has X-Rayed him and saw nothing major, but noted a spot he could not identify. He's going to re x-ray and possibly keep Tres overnight.

7:15 PM: I spent an hour with the patient tonight. He's feeling better...if eating a can of dog food in 4 bites means anything. He'll stay overnight to see if he still has blood in his urine, and Dr. Greg still thinks he sees some sort of "lump" in his bladder. He'll do another x-ray tomorrow and possibly ultrasound. But Tres is definetly ready to come home. It broke my heart to leave him behind when I left.

Independence Day.....

Friend Gayle Dodson leads the big parade!.

Nothing says the Fourth of July like scary clowns.

..or guys in funky hats who are old enough to know better.

..or barbeque at the Bad Boyz AA group. Bad Boyz is composed of bikers and those with a more "colorful" past than most.

Memorable 4th's......

As holidays go, the 4th of July is one of my favorites. I was thinking today of some of the more memorable ones.

1969: Ft. Sill, Oklahoma. I was at ROTC summer camp, living on a dusty plain in a tent for 6 weeks in 100° heat. We actually got the 4th off and were treated to a stupendous live fire power demonstration by virtually every weapons system in the army. Wow!

1974: Kauai, Hawaii. I had started an Army outrigger canoe team and paddled with them two years. When it was ordered folded I was asked to join a "local" team. I was the only haole [not local] guy on the team. We were racing at Hanalei, Kauai for the 4th. After the race our team had a luau on the beach. Not one of the touristy kind either. Several people were speaking in Hawaiian, something not everyone gets to hear. Magical.


1976: Midland. After being away in the Army for virtually every holiday, birthday, wedding, funeral and from family and friends for six years I was finally home in time for the National Bi-Centennial. I can't describe the feeling.

1986: Midland. The Centennial celebration of the City of Midland. We came out and had a rousing good time with all the old timers I've ever known. They had calf roping in front of the Petroleum Bldg. and Tommy Lee Jones was the grand marshall of the parade. The highlight for me was the 40 mile bike race half way to Rankin and back. Here I am in a rarely seen archival photo. 20 years later and I still look exactly like this.....except 20 older and somehow my biceps now seemed to have shriveled up.

The Butane Yard...

Occasionally at this hot time of the year I recall the summer of 1965 when I worked in the Eddins-Walcher butane yard in Odessa.

My Dad, who had started working outside the home at age 12, was a firm believer that if one of his sons was old enough to drive an automobile [he actually still called them "automobiles" back in '65] then said son was old enough to drive himself to work. Way back then we could legally drive at age 14, which is a tremedously scary thought now, so in 1964 I started driving the 1957 VW beetle to work as a bag boy at the Furrs' Supermarket on Illinois street near the Village. The building is still there but is now the Eagle Academy or somesuch thing. I'm proud to say that by the end of the summer I'd worked my way up to bag boy/stocker. Being a "stocker", if even part time, was a grand accomplishment for a man on his way up and meant that I could get away from the sniggling old ladies who always complained about the bag job. But it was the promise of higher pay and a more "manly" job that caught my attention the next summer.

My Dad was the V.P. and general manager of Eddins-Walcher Butane Co. which had become a rather large regional concern by 1965. E-W had fuel and transportation "yards", supply centers and service stations all over West Texas and Eastern New Mexico. Several summers later I ended up painting their service stations in such locales as Andrews, Kermit, Midland and Hobbs NM. But the first summer I was in my Dad's employ, my assignment was to paint butane tanks of all sizes at the Odessa storage facility. Somewhat naively I assumed that this must be a plum job if the bosses son was sent to do it. As you may discern this was not to be the case and, in fact, I was somewhat deflated when I learned that I was not to be the only privelaged employee that summer. The company owner, Jack Walcher, had also procured a job for his son Dan. Even though I was outranked in the progeny hierarchy, I was a year or so older than Dan, so things rather evened out and we got along famously.

My brother and I shared a car at the time, so since Dan had his own vehicle he agreed to drive all summer with me helping with gas money. And what a vehicle he had. A real classic of the gas guzzler era, a 1963 Pontiac Grand Prix. This was when the Grand Prix was a real car a "wide track", approximately 120 ft. long and the rear bench seat could fit 12 people comfortably. It is now a collectors item. I imagine the rougher working crowd in the part of Odessa where the yard was located thought it quite amusing to see two smallish white color kids arriving at our blue collar jobs in this immense car. As I remember Dan could barely see over the wheel.

The "butane yard" in Odessa was the main storage area for a massive amount of butane tanks of all sizes and was the central truck hub for the company; it was probably 10 acres all told. The smaller tanks were used for residential applications and the huge tanks, 30 ft. long and about 10 ft. tall, were used in the oil fields. Our job was to scrape and repaint each tank in the yard as well as the ones that were coming back in after hard use. We painted them white, in 100 degree heat, with no shade and the tanks were located on crushed caliche, which is a whitish limestone rock known for it's propensity to reflect the sun. We painted with ordinary paint rollers which, when working quickly, threw off a fine white spray. The reflection from all this white was immense and as I recall I went thru a pair of cheap sunglasses every other day. The glasses becoming useless as the paint spray slowly covered the lenses. I had a great tan, though rather dappled as ones body would tend to become sprayed over also. We carried our own water and weren't allowed to come back inside to the "shop" until lunchtime or we were about to pass out....whichever came first.

Our chief source of amusement was "flash freezing" anything we could find. Butane is stored at extremely high pressure to keep it a gas. The result of this is that if the small valve on the tank is opened, the outflowing gas is released at a temperature of about -100 degrees. This would quickly turn lizards, ants and other life forms [including fingers if not careful] into solidly frozen chunks of matter. You could hit a frozen lizard with a rock and it would break apart like an ice cube. We learned also that you could do a fast cleanup of paint rollers using this technique, knocking the frozen paint off like broken glass.

The yard and shops had two full time employees. Jeff McSpadden was the yard foreman and Alan was the mechanic who worked on the large fleet of trucks required of the business. Courtesy of these two I learned that, indeed, there was another side of life other than the comfortable upbringing I had been used to at that point. Jeff, was a decent hard working man who alternately treated us as if we were either full fledged adults or children getting in his way. He had no compunction against using language fit for a sailor in our midst and this was often directed at Dan and Me.

If we did not go to lunch at the What-a-Burger [one of the first by the way] on the Andrews Hwy. we were allowed to eat our sack lunches on the work bench inside the shop. Until the day which I will remember forever. After lunch this particular day, Jeff called us back in from the yard to lay a tirade of epic proportions upon us. The topic was "piss ants". Jeff made us come close to the bench to inspect the "piss ant" infestation which he blamed on our eating habits. "You little Sons ** *****s are such sloppy little Ass*****s that you've got my work bench full of piss ants. You know I'm going to get bit by piss ants everytime I'm at the workbench. You know how hard it is to get rid of piss ants?" I had no idea but from his tone I suspected it must be very hard. We were forever banned from eating at the work bench again, and to this day piss ants still make me nervous, though I'm not fully sure that I even know what a piss ant is.

Alan, the mechanic, however was the real piece of work. Whereas Jeff had his good points, Alan had no discernable skills at being a human being at all. Looking back on it he must have been a good candidate for AA, at least his actions make me suspect. I suppose he was a good mechanic and he did seem overworked, but if ever there was a candidate for the looney bin he was it. Dan and I dreaded the times that he needed our assistance on some mechanical project, like holding a nut while he tightened something. We could never do even the smallest jobs to suit him and I don't recall a single time that he didn't end up cursing us and telling us to get out of his F****** shop. Alan also had a bent for throwing tools....hard, at anything he didn't like so it was better to stick close by his side during these psychotic episodes. He couldn't hit you if you were next to him.

On more than one occasion even from far out in the yard, you could hear his cursing and screaming then the sound of tools hitting the metal shop wall. Within a flash he'd be in his old pickup roaring out of the yard spinning caliche stones behind him. Several hours later he would return as if nothing had ever happened, having probaby imbided a couple of cold beverages to calm himself down. Even Jeff left Alan alone mostly.

Dan and I survived that summer and as I know now, it was a good learning experience as most difficult things in life are. It made my desire to go to college grow intensely so I wouldn't have to end up working forever in a butane yard. For some reason I remembered that Jeff grew up in Rankin and in one of life's coincidences, just several years ago in AA, I met a McSpadden from Rankin. It was Jeff's cousin who told me that Jeff had retired to Rankin and had lived a good comfortable life there....hopefully "piss ant" free until his death. Eddins-Walcher Fuels was eventually sold to Franks Fuels and is now a huge business. Jack Walcher is still alive and well into his mid 80's and I see he and his wife often at church.

The next summer, of 1966, and on Saturdays during the school year I graduated to working in one of the company service stations on Wall St. There I had to adjust myself to working with other mechanics and to waiting on the ungrateful public while wearing a blue workshirt emblazened with the Amoco logo, my name and a bowtie just like in those quaint old commercials you see. I even mastered the standard, "Welcome to Amoco, may I fill 'er up?" I did this with a smile even though I suspect it may have started me on the road to strong drink.

Marketing 101....

One of the oldest and best marketing tricks on the planet...tell the consumer a favorite product is gone, then bring it back and watch them flock in! Think "Coke" to "New Coke" and back to "Classic Coke". Now think the newly redesigned and scaled down Yellow Bug News!

"Sam".....

I love Alcoholics Anonymous. It has literally saved my physical and emotional life. I usually go once every week, but of late have been much more often and not because I'm worried that I might start swilling vodka again. My propensity to drink alcohol was lifted over 12 years ago. My propensity for immature self-centered thinking was not. As one newcomer said in a meeting on Saturday, "you know, I always thought that AA was only about quitting alcohol and drugs, it's really about living, everyone I know should come to these meetings to learn about life". Well said.

Tonight when I was in the throes of obsessive thinking and self righteous indignation, I met "Sam". "Sam" is an Hispanic/Indian fellow, quiet and soft spoken, neatly dressed and about the same age as I am. As we spoke in our small group "Sam" described his life in terms that I could relate to. People coming and going in his life, mistakes he had made and small victories won. His description of his life reminded me that all in AA have some things in common incuding the desire to do better by recognizing our defects and working small steady steps to improve ourselves even if we are imperfect and that ultimately not only are we powerless over alcohol but also people. "Sam", his story and his lessons learned could have been mine.

Except that "Sam" has spent most of his adult life in prison, having just been released after serving a 20 year sentence. He kicked heroin 15 years ago while in prison, learned that in AA we depend only on ourselves and the maintenance of our spiritual progam for our success and that by helping others we relieve ourselves of the "bondage of self".

I know of few other places than AA that God would put a person like "Sam" before me when I needed to be reminded of what is important.

The Robin....

Although I have a good sprinkler system, I usually spend 15 minutes or so each evening watering a few things, because the Big Gold Dog likes to lie in the front yard and watch the world go by. He seems to enjoy my company. Four or five days ago I heard a faint chirping from amongst the ivy and discovered a fledgling

robin chick. The young bird apparently had tried his first flight from the nest and failed as he could make it no more than a few feet in the air. I thought seriously about "rescuing" the bird, but my better instincts told me that nature would take it's course. I was thinking that with several neighborhood cats around that the end would not be a good one.

I didn't see the young bird for a day or so but was amazed to see him on the other side of the yard several days later. When I tried to get close enough to take the picture above, the mother robin, who I had thought had long ago abandoned her chick, swooped down and threatened me. Apparently she had been watching over him all the time. And as I watched, indeed, she returned with some bird morsel in her beak and fed the chick.

Hopefully he'll be flying soon and go on his way. There is lesson here I suppose, if we humans could only count on those we care about as much as the birds seem to do we would all be so much the better off.

My Dad....

Once again recent events prove that my Dad is one of only a handful of people I can trust with my soul. He has always been there through good times and bad, better or worse and has loved me no matter the circumstances. He has seen me at my best and at my lowest depths, but his feelings for me, his trust in my outcome and his unwavering love has been constant. He has believed in my dreams and pulled me back up when they failed. He has never waivered in what he sees as his responsibility to his family and he has never considered giving up on us.

The picture above is one he had made in England shortly before he came home from the war after 3 years of training, fighting in Italy and recovering in England from feet frozen in the Italian Alps. He married my Mom shortly after arriving home and they have been married ever since. Not an easy task with my Mom sometimes, or with us kids, but he would never consider giving up and he'll tell you today that it was all worth it. I love you Dad.

Smooth Jazz...

I've been a fan of Tom Braxton ever since I listened to his first album. He's a world class saxophonist, smooth jazz artist and a very nice and intelligent guy to boot.

Last night at the Hilton was another of those occasions when I wonder where are all the people in Midland who say there is nothing to do. There were 20 people in the crowd. Embarassing, but great for the "crowd" as we got to participate in the show, throw out requests [mine: some Antonio Carlos Jobim, done wonderfully] and I got to take some great photos here and here which Tom graciously took the time to help me compose.

A great night, a late night and a great time.

Man's best friend....

Rotors over Midland....

By popular demand, here are some more pictures taken during our recent most exciting adventure flying over Midland. Huey over Midland

[around here one request is considered popular demand].

Flying high...

What a day, I'd forgotten how much fun it is flying in a Huey helicopter with the doors open. When no one is shooting at you of course. With your legs dangling out the door and being able to look straight down, it's the closest thing to being a bird that you can experience. With the slower speed of the chopper, if you are careful you can lean way out the door and take some pretty interesting pictures. Here's one shot as we approached the Midland Airport.

My friend Gregg Baiano owns his on helicopter fleet consisting of 4 Hueys and a newly purchased Cobra [recently seen in the film Mission Impossible III] and he invited us to go flying this morning. With my friend, author, Joe Galloway in town Gregg knew that we would enjoy a trip around town in the old Vietnam workhorse. Actually a trip above town. So Joe and I along with several other friends loaded up and pulled pitch this morning for an hour flight before we set down at the Permian Basin Vietnam Memorial where Joe made an appearance. It was a rather an emotional trip for a load of ex Vietnam Vets most of whom were ex Huey and Cobra pilots along with an ex infantry officer [me] and the most famous journalist of the Vietnam War. We all have so many memories of times good and bad flying into landing zones like we hit this morning.

But today we were greeted by people we know well.....brother veterans. As I said an emotional trip back in time.

Memorial Day.....

My friend Joe Galloway [L], author of We Were Soldiers Once and Young, along with Vietnam helicopter pilot Chuck Oualline, in town to remember our fallen comrades for Memorial Day. Hope you'll take some time to do the same.......

Freedom is not Free!

60 Years today...

May 24th is my parents wedding anniversary. 60 years ago today they tied the knot in Webster Groves Missouri, shortly after my Dad got back from his almost 4 years overseas in Europe.

It's a strange idea, but as I got older this year the thought occured to me....wow, that's longer than I've been alive! Thankfully. Carol and Wally have had their ups and downs, good times and some very bad ones [some attributable to me] but have weathered all storms and come out still loving one another. That's really all we can hope for. So thanks, Mom and Dad for being there thru thick and thin. What a pleasure, it is to be able to reside so close to them and to be able to now help them out when they need it.

We had a not so big party at The Wall Street Bar and Grill, went to their house with for some snapshots of the happy couple with flowers the kids sent and that was that. But the memory of their help and guidance never fades..... Here's Carol and Wally.

The Artiste......

It was four years ago this weekend that the bride and I had our second date. Our first had been to the ballgame the night before and we decided to try it again, this time to the Celebration of the Arts. I'm glad we did because we agreed that my friend, local artist Helen Pogue, was one of our joint favorites. We bought a large oil painting that day that still adorns our large den fireplace. I'm glad also that we had a second date because, well.....we ending up getting married.

So we have been back each year since and bought works from Helen each time. Most years two at a time. Helen is a premier and well known local artist who has exhibited in galleries in Santa Fe and New York. Unfortunately in the last 10 years she had a stroke which at first slowed her work down and recently forced her to call a halt to all painting.

Last year she announced to our chagrin that 2005 would be her last show so we bought our usual allotment. In the galleries Helen's works command premier prices, but because she is a friend she always makes some excuse as to why she can sell us her art for ridiculously low prices. "Oh I never really liked that one" or "I've had this a long time and I'm tired of looking at it". Sometimes I think that the gold frames are worth more than she is charging us.

So Saturday as I walked into the convention center I was overjoyed to see Helen in her usual spot in a high traffic corner. We joked about her continuous "going out of business sale" but she said that this year she had cleaned out her storage area and the works hanging were indeed her last. I started out to purchase one oil and then couldn't let my second choice go....nor my third choice. I bought them all. Helen has many eclectic styles but the one we like the most and is the theme throughout our home is her impressionistic views of New Mexico. Vibrant in color and in the main simple in composition they go wonderfully with our decor.

It will not be the same going to the Art Show with Helen not there....but we're hoping that she will do some "on commission" work for us. Her hand is not as steady as before which is the reason we think she doesn't want to do public works anymore. But her heart is still in the work. Here is one of today's purchases.

Addendum: I forgot to add that one of the brighter spots of the day was when I was "carded" to prove my age for the Senior Citizens discount. Thank you young woman at the gate!

Illegals & High Gas Prices...

My mailbox is being flooded with mail concerning gas prices and
all of the illegal immigrants. To boycott oil companies or not;
to provide amnesty to illegal immigrants or not, etc.

Since I have become jaded to the various solutions proposed by
the Republicans, Democrats, Sierra Club, ACLU, etc., I elected
to solve the problems as they affect me. It solves both my gas
and illegal immigrant problems.

I have hired illegal immigrants to push my car.
They're plentiful and cheaper than buying gas.

GOD BLESS AMERICA !!!

Tonight's story.....

I'll begin tonight's story with the conclusion of events. It's about 10 pm. and Raoul, the city water department night emergency man just left the estate moments ago.

Homeowners everywhere cringe at those words, water department night emergency man. Raoul had to come out to help me locate the emergency water shut off valve. I knew where the meter was in the alley, but the valve was in an odd position and buried under dirt so it was difficult to find.

It's strange how I can trace tonight's final calamity directly back through a series of seemingly inconsequential steps. That's the way the world works, one small step for man, one broken water system for mankind.

Several months ago, I was putzing around in the storage shed where the sprinkler system controls are housed and I decided after all these years to finally take the time to program the sprinklers to do exactly as I wished. No easy task as we have 12 different stations in the system. But with persistance and some computer skills I got the task completed, or so I thought. I could never get the first station to come on, either manually or automatically, so with some previous sprinkler management experiece under my belt I decided that a valve must be stuck. A diagnosis that was confirmed tonight when I saw a large pool of water under the huge Afghan Pine in the front yard. A valve not only stuck, but now apparently broken.

This discovery led me to the next stage on the road to further troubles. This is the second law of homeownership, I have found. Once a problem is discovered, at least one more major problem will arise out of the first. And so it was to be. Having found the large pool of water I decided to run the sprinklers once more for the night and then shut off the water to the entire sprinler system using the master cut off valve in the back yard. I have done this many times with no problem....until tonight. As I turned the valve inward a fine spray of water from the valve stem quickly turned into a major spray, the more I turned, the greater the volume of water. Trying to mitigate the damage I backed the valve back out to open where it had been, at which point the whole valve and gasket assembly basically fell apart, sending out a massive spray. The only good side of this was that on a hot night it felt pretty good to be soaked.

With some experimentation I turned the valve to a point where the spray was somewhat manageable and then I found time to curse....a lot. This is the point that I decided I'd better figure out how to turn the water to the estate off and found that the valve was not to be seen. Knowing when one is in trouble is the first step towards recovery so I phoned the City of Midland night emergency operator.

And this is how Raoul came to be at the estate. I have to humbly say that I apologize for all the times I've cursed the City Water Department because Raoul came quickly, was very pleasant and calmed my fears about leaving the spray running all night. Apparently he's seen a lot worse and we both agreed that since the spraying valve is in amongst the trees, they could use the water.

So tomorrow I must find a sprinkler repairman and be prepared to shell out significant dough for above and underground valves. But that's tomorrow.....Fiddle Dee Dee.

PS: what is the first law of homeownership? It is...."just when everything seems to be running smoothly......it won't be for long".

The next day...., it is now Friday morning, the birds are chirping, the water is shut off and Henry [seen above] is busily fixing the main sprinkler cut off valve. All is well, almost, at the estate. However early this morning as I drove to a V.A. doctors appointment in Odessa while searching the yellow pages and calling 2 or 3 sprinkler companies I thought I was in trouble. I thought I was in for more "roofer" type treatment. All very nice but the earliest they could get to my urgent problem was, "sometime next week". Until I finally called Alldredge Gardens. They are not the biggest in town for no reason....they found time to send someone out, that would be Henry. I will pay a little more for their services, but it's worth it to have good prompt service.

Glo-ball-ization......

Today was the day I made the decision to switch my office ISP from T3Wireless to Clearwire. Both wireless providers [perhaps you could tell by the names!] but Clearwire is $20/month cheaper, provides faster service and if I should move office locales again all I need do is to cart the free standing modem along with me..or if I want to put my PC out in the front yard, it would work there too.

The other pretty nifty deal in getting Clearwire now is that I got a buy one/get one free airline ticket anywhere in the U.S. on any air carrier. Not bad! But what I wanted to highlight is perhaps the worst example I've seen of political correctness and globalization run amok. The Clearwire folks have in their offices, a display highlighting the free airline ticket deal. The display has a sandfilled pool surrounded by beach toys. One of which was a beach ball. Just a plain old beach ball like any child would play with at a pool or actual beach. Except, take a moment to look at the photograph of the side of the ball.

WARNING: USE ONLY UNDER COMPETENT SUPERVISION!

This is a stinkin' soft beach ball we're talking about here. Unless it's somehow been loaded with high explosives I think that probably we could trust the kiddies to be OK with this plaything. And this dire warning is then copied into every language invented by God since the Tower of Babel. What's this world coming too? Don't answer that.....I think we know. The last line tells all: Hecho en China.

Serenity.....

Today in the Picture of the Day, I bring you the picture of serenity a lone fisherman all to himself on the Colorado River near Bend, Texas. This photo is from last March and my Let's Go Fishing annual excursion with my frat brothers. The fisherman is actually Terry McCarty of Boerne, one of our group. Terry was the star running back at Trinity University in the mid 60's. Just look at him now! How far we've come. Perhaps I should entitle this photo, "Picture of Senility".

A Kinky link.....

Thanks to academy award nominated screenwriter, famed mystery novelist and power blogger Roger L. Simon for taking an interest in the story of his fellow mystery writer Kinky Friedman. The guy in the photo with Kinky looks familiar but I just can't place him.....

A Kinky story....

Thanks to our pal Jimmy Patterson I was able to spend an hour or so with notable Texan and gubernatorial candidate Kinky Friedman this morning. Jimmie was kind enough to let me sit in on his live webcast interview with Kinky and to photograph the proceedings.

I enjoyed meeting the Kinkster up close and personally and found him to be extremely interesting, intelligent, knowledgable about issues and dead serious about becoming the next governor of the great State of Texas. Not to mention utterly hilarious! His interview with Jimmy had it's humerous moments but Kinky answered questions in a serious and responsible tone and in fact, had some great and very straightforward solutions to the challenges that face Texas today. You can learn more about how Kinky would govern Texas by visiting his website. And if you didn't catch the half an hour interview with Kinky you can see it archived at My West Texas.

Thanks again Jimmy for this photo op, what a blast.

More Clouds......?

Yes, more photos of storm clouds. They're so beautiful and magnificent I can't help myself. But the week is supposed to be hot and clear so this should be it for awhile and I've put varied pictures up on their own page so you can get your fill.

Tomorrow, if all things go as planned, I'll be exhibiting some celebrity shots.

Oil pricing and you....

We in Midland had the rare opportunity to hear one of the world's premier oil analysts live and in person last night. As some of us in the crowd joked, one explosive device would have wiped out the Permian Basin oil business, such were the numbers of people in attendance.

Matt Simmons has been an energy investment banker since 1973 and over time has gained great stature as one of the leading thinkers on the subject of oil, gas and energy in general. He has recently written a book entitled, "Twilight in the Desert: The Coming Saudi Oil Shock and the World Economy." His research, started many years ago before the present price crunch, led him to believe that the capacity and life of the Saudi oil fields was being vastly overstated and overrated. These fields, he believes, are in a state of decline and in fact no new large fields have been found in Saudi Arabia since the 1970's.

This is crucial because for decades economists and analysts have thought of Saudi oil like a central bank, stepping in to shore up supply shortages and keeping the price of oil fairly moderate. A decline in production means that in reality this is not possible for the Saudi's anymore.

While not predicting future price scenario's Mr. Simmons believes oil is still very cheap at $70/bbl. This bears some truth to me if one compares oil, our lifeblood, to other common products. With oil at $70/bbl. the price of a gallon of it is 60 cents, translating into, roughly, $3 a gallon gasoline. At this price consumers are outraged, towns boycott Exxon and the senate passes an anti-gouging bill aimed at Big Oil. Yet the outraged consumers don't seem to be sellng their SUV's nor driving less nor to be so strapped that they have to stop buying their bottled Dasani Lemon Water for $1 a pint.....which is $4 a gallon. Hmmm? Water costing six times what a gallon of oil costs. It would seem that oil has a long way to go on the upside to achieve full value.

In a nutshell, this was Mr. Simmons concluding point. Ever since modern man has used fossil fuels to power his world, he has been used to cheap, much too cheap, fuel. Simmons is quick to point out that we are not running out of oil, but we are running out of easy to find, high grade....and cheap oil, so the recent high prices are probably not an abberation, but a harbinger of things to come.

My synopsis is thus: big changes are in the wind in the world of energy and since energy powers our economy and lifestyle, big changes are in store for Americans. Mr. Simmons thinks sooner rather than later.

Read more here on Mr. Simmons thesis

Immigrants Day....

Welcome to Immigration Day, the day when the poor downtrodden immigrants have spontaneously arisen to show their support for the American ideals of freedom and a better job. Well actually, it's "illegal immigration day" but let's not let technicalities spoil the fun. And truth be known, the spontaneous outpouring of support for immigration felons is not so grassroots but has been orchestrated by International ANSWER, which is a socialist organization. We used to know them as communists. Did you stop and think about why the spontaneous demonstrations were planned for May 1st? Remember those biggest of parades they used to have through the Kremlin in Moscow? It was called the May Day celebration, held on May 1st.