Medal of Honor.....

Though friends have known for some months, our good pal and frequent visitor to the estate, Bruce Crandall will receive the Medal of Honor this month for heroic actions in Vietnam over 40 years ago. The official announcement has just been made by the President's office. As regular readers know Bruce's story was portrayed in the Mel Gibson film, We Were Soldiers. Bruce was played by Greg Kinnear in the film. The award and recognition is long overdue, but appreciated by Bruce and his wife Arlene. It's been in process a long time, too long.

It's been an honor in the last week to help get ready for the ceremony; working with the PI office of the Secretary of the Army I've provided photos of mine and of Joe Galloway for use on the website and at the event. After some years in the Army as a lowly peon officer it's been a little disconcerting getting telephone calls from the office of the Secretary of the Army.....from Colonels addressing me as Sir. Here's the initial copy of the "official website".

It's a great honor to be able to call Bruce a good friend, the next time he's in town we'll have a big shindig and as you can imagine, I'll have pictures galore when I get back from the ceremony!

Sad, Part II.......

As I retrieved the newspaper this morning I saw the headline, that a man had been killed yesterday on the railroad tracks downtown. Not a totally unusual occurence in Midland; but as always I wondered, "who cannot see or hear a train coming while crossing the tracks".

Then I read the name of the victim, Martin Chapman, resident of the Salvation Army. I knew Martin. Not well, but I had talked with him enough to know his story along with some of the demons that bedeviled him.

How strange I thought, when coupled with yesterdays post; here is a woman who came from nothing to be a media darling and is now dead and in Midland we have a man who was once somebody, who died on the tracks while a resident of the Salvation Army. Both gone for, most likely, the same reason.

Sad...

I've been out of touch, I've been busy; I'm the real father of Anna Nicole Smith's child and I had to go testify.

That having been said, what a sad affair. A zoo, circus and clusterfark all rolled into one. To have the media fauning over the story like this is aggregious....but what did we expect, the only reason Anna Nicole is media worthy is that the media told us she was.

That having been said too, I feel sorry for Ms. Smith; really. To have ended up being nothing more than a media event is sad. But as I've learned, the way we live our lives does matter; I don't know what caused her demise, but I can guess and it proves that how we live can actually end up killing us. A life of self centerdness and self absorption is a dangerous thing. Or as they say, "what goes around comes around". We usually reap what we sow.

Down memory lane, slowly...

I try and go by to see my Mom every day now that my Dad has left us, I'm not perfect about it, but I try. I usually stay for a half hour or so to make sure she's doing ok and to see if anything needs to be done around the house. She's doing ok and since she has lots of help, things are usually running smoothly now. Many times we just talk and let Daphne run wild in the backyard, but recently we've been looking

around my Dad's room for things that need to be tended to; perhaps some paperwork on his bureau that was overlooked or for some keepsake we've missed seeing. I must have learned it from him, keeping lot's of valuble "junk" in the top draw of my bureau, for there was a treasure trove of memories in his.

There were things he had carried, like old credit cards, old wallets, old coins and pocket knives; lots of pocket knives, many almost antiques. I took several to remind me of him. There were things he had saved from long ago; a Shell Company ceramic ashtray from the 1950's, a box of $2 bills and old coins with the appraised values written down, from what year I haven't a clue. There were things he had worn; old boy scout patches from his days as a leader in the 1960's, old skinny bowties, the kind I remember men wearing with short sleeved shirts in the early '60s and tuxedo accessories. I don't think I ever saw him in a tux, but I know he had one. There were written notes, letters and memories; the date that his sister died written on a scrap of paper, old letters from our attorney in St. Louis concerning our farm, a letter from his favorite cousin, a fairly recent birthday card from me addressed to "The World's Greatest Dad"....and a NY Time Sports section front page from October of 1939. I showed this to my Mom. She had no idea of the significance of this, nor do I. I'll wonder about this for a long time.

There were tributes to him I had never seen; a bronzed medallion given in honor of his boy scout service, a letter from Congressman Henry B. Gonzalez of San Antonio personally thanking him for his diligence while working for the FDIC later in his life....and there was the certificate shown above.

My Dad, like many of his generation, talked little of his WWII service for most of his life. Only in the last 7 or 8 years did he let us know in some detail of his experiences. He had been a sergeant, but as an almost college graduate he had been offered the chance to be an officer, but turned it down. He hated the army, he hated the war, and he hated the three years that he'd been gone. His best buddy in the army had been killed the very first day that they landed in Italy, but late in life as he talked I knew that he was very, very proud to have been a part of it all. He even went to one reunion of his old division, the famed 45th, from which he came back with a new sense of his contribution...and had an excellent time. The certificate is from the National D-Day Museum in New Orleans, signifying that he had made a contribution to it's construction and that a brick with his name lies there. If you're ever there, look for Sgt. Wally Craig. He earned his brick.

My Mom and I have also been looking through my Dad's wardrobe closet. I have to laugh everytime we do; Carol keeps saying, "try this on, maybe it will fit you". My Dad ended up being a size "Small", I'm a Large or X-Large. I have, however, taken some things including the last pair of shoes my Dad ever bought. Strangely, very modern style loafers in size 10½. He wore size 10, I wear 10½. They fit me perfectly and are the most comfortable shoes I now own. I wear them all the time and it is not lost on me that now I can truly say that I'm able to walk in my Dad's shoes. I think of him every time I put them on.....they're big shoes to fill.

The Stupor Bowl...

I've come to realize that the Super Bowl© is not the highest of national celebrations, it's just a big game to see who wins the NFL Championship....and to make a hell of a lot of money for people rich enough already. If you aren't wild over the two teams playing it becomes less of a big deal. I have a lot of friends in Chicago and I'm still pissed that the Colts left Baltimore so I hoped that the Bears would win. They didn't, no big thing to me.

If they hoped to hook me into watching the halftime "spectacle" they did a poor job. I went to use the bathroom. Having the guy formerly known as "Prince" and apparently now known again as "Prince" as the star is a mystery to me. By most accounts he never was much of a star in the first place and now he's a mostly forgotten has been second rate star. After I returned from the privy I did see that his makeup was running though. I guess it was the weather. I'm sure the Florida tourism board loves having these big sporting events in their state as an advertisement to showcase perfect weather and lure me down there. It seems like every big sporting event I've seen in Florida lately involves a lot of rain. In between rain there are hurricanes and tornados. I don't want to go to Florida even more now.

I caught enough of the game to get the drift, including the fumble by local "sensation" Cedric Benson. His big moment was a fumble which as far as I could tell was his first, last and only play in the Super Bowl©. I could be wrong, I just didn't hear his name mentioned again. So much for a week of hype for Cedric in the local papers.

Anyway, I would have watched every second dutifully like a real man, but We'd rented the "Heidi" DVD and it was due back at Blockbuster tonight, so not wanting to miss that, We preempted the game.

Reference for younger or ignorant readers: The Heidi Game

Expectations.......

Sometimes when our expectations are in line with God's plan for us we are pleasantly surprised; and with the bonus of getting to take some of the best photographs I've done in awhile.

Here's your new dog......

People know I love dogs. Therefore I frequently get messages passed on like the one below. If you would like to adopt this German Shepard please call the number included or pass it on to someone who could give this dog a good home.

I got a call from the Odessa Animal Shelter yesterday. They have a sable German Shepard female (12 mos) who is now up for adoption. Her time is up on Monday morning - Feb. 5. Jackie says she is beautiful and has lovely manners. Loves people and is good with other dogs. She was adopted and returned once already - she didn't get along with the cat in that home. Please pass this information on if you can. The last dog I e-mailed you about was saved because the message traveled - lets hope this one can be saved as well.

Contact the Odessa Animal Shelter - Jackie. 432.368.3528. As always, here's hoping for a happy ending. If I find out that she has been adopted, I'll let you know asap. If you find out before I do, let me know!

Everyone's welcome but....

Most people are welcome here at the estate but due to the volume of traffic in and out at all hours I've had to lay down a few ground rules. I could see the neighbors getting anxious. Read the sign, if it applies this means You, No Expections!

The enigma.....

Over the weekend I went to an AA celebration for a member who just attained 45 years of sobriety....that's a long time between cold beers. One of the speakers was remarking on how hard it is for "outsiders" to understand exactly what AA is all about, why it means so much to us and how it works. As an example he said, "you know outsiders just don't get it when we laugh so hard at stories of now sober members and their trials. We laugh when someone describes being thrown out of his home, losing his wife or going to jail, but we cry so easily when the same person talks about being sober and getting back the wife, children, home, job and how happy he is now." We laugh and we cry because, in one form or another, most of us have been there too. It's the laughter and tears of drowning men and women resuced from the shipwreck all having survived together.

I had one of those moments this weekend, I was the subject of one of those moments of laughter. A woman who has been in and out of AA for many years was speaking; she now has 3 years of sobriety and is a model citizen. She wasn't always that way. "T" was almost crying when she spoke of her downward spiral and how, many times over the years she had tried AA, but it wasn't her time, she wasn't ready. She ended up saying that when she first came into the program in 1992 she wasn't sure she really was an alcoholic and used any excuse to justify her continued drinking.

Looking at the large audience she said, "in fact I see Wallace sitting there. I remember Wallace from my first days in 1992 at the old 710 AA Club, and I remember thinking that surely I'm not as bad as he is, I can't be an alcoholic....I'm not that bad". "T" had said this quite honestly and from the heart, not directed as a hurt for me, just what she remembered of herself.

The audience howled and none more so than me, for I was "that bad" before I got sober in March of 1994. I went to AA often in those pre 1994 days......most usually under the influence, which is not recommended. And after years of that, not too much appreciated by the sober and recovering members; many of those that were laughing so much Saturday night had been there in the 1990's and remember that I was "that bad". In fact my good friend Brooks, told me after I was sober for some years, that the members of the 710 Club had actually talked about not letting me come back....the first person in memory to be thrown out of AA.

Everyone laughed and smiled, including me, and I felt a little proud in the way that outsiders might not understand. I felt good because I had been "that bad" and had almost been thrown out of AA, but in a little over a month I'll have 13 years clean and sober. Where else but AA can you be "that bad" and end up a role model. I guess if I can make it, anyone can.

Encounter......

Encountered last night while on the town, Lisa and Ronn of The Piglet Papers.

Remembrances and Melancholy....

It was two months ago today that my Dad passed away. Strangely it seems like an eternity ago; and then at other times it seems that he's not gone at all.

When I go to my Mom's house I still have the feeling that I'll be seeing them both. I've noticed too that as we walk down the hall both my Mom and I still turn and look into the room where he lay resting for most of his last two weeks as if he should still be there. In the den his chair still remains vacant when we sit in that room, it was his chair, where he sat.

At my house I sometimes expect to see the Big Gold Dog, Tres, laying in his spot in the hall and at night when I hear the branches rustling I believe, or want to believe, that it's his paws hitting the wall like they used to when he was lying there dreaming, running in his sleep. Tres has been gone only four months, but his memory is still very much alive.

And it was not long before the deaths of my Dad and Tres that there were other lively voices here in the house. I miss them all and at times the quiet and sadness is almost overwhelming. But we are responsible for our own wellfare and happiness is not an end destination; it is the result of how we live our lives. So, I drift out of the melancholy and concentrate on those who remain that need my assistance.

What excitement.....

It has been an exciting day!

Daphne got a new rope toy and I bought a new bedspread. Daphne chewed a hole in the last spread. It wasn't her fault, she was emotionally distraught. And... I sent a big check to the IRS to repay a "disagreement" incurred around 1987

And no, I didn't just blow off the IRS for the last 20 years, just 3 or 4. They are my friends now, I talk to them alot. Actually in '87 I had made a fair sum in the real estate business in Dallas and my CPA put me in some tax shelters that were later disallowed. Unfortunately the disallowances coincided with my unfortunate "non sober" period. Being "non sober" renders one much more likely to blow off the IRS than otherwise, also "non sobriety" tends to make one earn less money to pay back the IRS even if he wanted to. Therefore the disallowances with penalties and interest were befitting a rich person, which at the time I was not.

So one of my first acts when I was rendered "sober" was to march myself into the Midland IRS office to make amends and throw myself on their mercy. Luckily I found a very nice IRS women who understood "non sobriety" due to an ex husband and she helped me out, arranging a settlement of my mid five figure debt. And she put me on a payment plan which I have been dutifully fulfilling for years since.

But since the debt is now down to higher four figures I thought I'd just pay the remainder off. The IRS charges about 300% a year compounded at every mealtime, my mineral holdings have been growing at 12-20%, so it was a no-brainer to make the payoff. I even settled for a little less than I owed due to the lump-sum payoff.

I've learned how to get along well with the IRS through all of these years. We are now always in total agreement. They say, "you owe $xxxx, and if you don't pay, we'll take everything you own." I always say, "OK, I'll pay". A great arrangement. I do have to say though that through all these years I have noticed a postive change when I call the IRS. In the early years, waiting a full hour to talk to a human being was not uncommon, it's usually minutes now. These days the people are also a little nicer and willing to listen, I think they finally realized that they can do anything to you they want, so why be nasty about it....and when you have to wait they have really good Musak on the phone. Tschaichovsky I think.

One's self.....

People who are driven by extreme pride of self unconsciously blind themselves to their own liabilities...

Bill Wilson
Alcoholics Anonymous

Hiatus....

Faithful readers of Streams, all four of you, may have noticed an absence of late. A forced hiatus.

The event started with the best of intentions, to move the domain registration of BigGoldDog.com, the parent domain, to another registrar at the same time that the domain came up for renewal. Normally an easy switch, unless of course you are dealing with "Nerdwork Solutions"* I won't go into details, but trying to deal with them by email results in such responses as "Our Customer Support Representatives will investigate your inquiry and send you a response within 3 business days"

Three days? This is the Internet where things keep getting faster all the time...unless of course you are Nerdwork Solutions. Seeing such messages forced me to use the telephone number provided, where I talked to an international variety of "help" sounding like they were in India, Sweden or Timbuktu. Finally I found a helpful helper who actually was in the U.S. of A. She grasped the problem where the others had not and helped me get the site back up. But only temporarily until they figure out who I am and verify my true identity. I hope they figure it out...I've only been with them for ten years.

As soon as I'm officially re-registered you can be sure the domain is going to Australia and my good friends at Server101 who certainly know who I am and usually get back to me in less than three hours...not three days. To add insult to injury, what did I get from Nerdwork Solutions this morning. An email saying that I was randomly selected to participate in a survey rating their service. I really don't think they want to hear from me.

*Nerdwork Solutions is a ficticious name designed to protect the innocent....namely Me.

We're dining now..!

I'm far from an interior decorator, but like most people I do think I have a modicum of taste. And my modicum tells me that a dining room looks much better with actual dining room furniture. Mine came today. We're planning plenty of fine dining....as soon as I can teach Daphne how to sit in a chair without squirming. When we add the leaf, we can invite everyone we know!

On growing up...

Those adolescent urges that so many of us have for complete approval, utter security, and perfect romance--urges quite appropriate to age seventeen--prove to be an impossible way of life at forty-seven or fifty-seven. Since AA began I've taken huge wallops in all these areas because of my failure to grow up, emotionally and spiritually.

Letter from Bill Wilson
Founder of AA

As we grow spiritually, we find that our old attitudes toward our instinctual drives need to undergo drastic revisions. Our demands for emotional security and wealth, for personal prestige and power all have to be tempered and redirected. We learn that the full satisfaction of these demands cannot be the sole end and aim of our lives. We cannot place the cart before the horse, or we shall be pulled backward into disilllusionment. But when we are willing to place spiritual growth first--then and only then do we hava a real chance to grow in healthy awareness and mature love.

As Bill Sees It

In Partnership

"As we made spititual progress, it became clear that, if we ever were to feel emotionally secure, we would have to put our lives on a give-and-take basis; we would have to develop the sense of being in partnership or brotherhood with all those around us. We saw that we would need to give constantly of ourselves without demand for repayment. When we persistently did this, we gradually found that people were attracted to us as never before. And even if they failed us, we could be understanding and not too seriously affected."

"As Bill Sees It"
Alcoholics Anonymous

Whatever.....

I'm hopeful that scientists will determine the true cause of Global Warming before I freeze to death here in West Texas.

Welcome back.....

After a short hiatus, I'm glad to see that my friend, Midland native and artiste supreme, Artist Polly has made her return to the world of prose. Besides being a great visual artist, her written stories are well worth the read. I've known of Polly since high school, but we only became well acquainted not more than 10 years ago while she was still living in Santa Fe. A rich, varied and interesting life gives her more than ample subject matter for her stories.

And as if this isn't enough....she was also a Princess on the Midland High Catoico Court!!

Cold......

It is cold in Midland. As I write this just after noon it is 26°, hasn't been above freezing since Saturday and not expected to until possibly tomorrow. Below average temps for sure, but not unusual for West Texas. Last years low was 2° above zero.

The sun did shine for awhile today and actually if dressed for it, which I was, it was rather invigorating, especially since the wind was not blowing. The sun felt good and the sky gets that extra azure blue color it has when it's cold and clear. When it's cold though I think back on two experiences in my life involving cold, one fairly pleasant, the other almost deadly.

My first beautiful blonde wife, Anne, was from Brainerd Minnesota; her family was in the resort business in North Central Minnesota. In the summer it was stunning with crystal clear lakes surrounded by pine forests, perfect for fishing, boating and sailing. That's why the resort business was good at their hotels. The winter, as you can imagine, was a different story.

For six years we went up to Brainerd for a week either at Christmas or Thanksgiving and in all those weeks spent there I can't ever recall the temperature being above freezing. Usually the high for the day was somewhere around 8 or 10 degrees with lows at night hovering near 10-15 degrees below zero. The lakes were frozen so hard that ice fishermen drove their Winnebago's out onto the ice or built sheds that were left on the lake all winter. One Christmas the nights dropped down to -30°. So cold that your face had to be covered and the "stuff" in your nose froze every time you inhaled. The sun set at around 4 p.m. so that any warmth accumulated during the short day, quickly left. [as an update at 10 p.m, I checked the weather in Brainerd...it's a balmy -3°]

It was usually a great treat for a Texan though. For southwesterner's, activities like ice sailing, ice fishing, hockey, cross country skiing, snowshoeing and snowmobiling were a blast. A blast for a week anyway, I'm not sure I could handle four months of below freezing temperatures, getting very bundled up every time you venture outside and the "stuff" freezing in my nose every time I took a breath.

The other cold weather experience I recall is one of the four times, that I know of, that I almost bought the farm. One of my best friends in Dallas had a really nice, big airboat. A flat bottomed boat powered by a Chevy 350 c.i. engine with a airplane propeller attached. For years we took the boat to Lake Texhoma to go duck hunting; the boat was a superb way to get into the mudflats where the ducks congregated. When we decided to go hunting, not much could stop us not even frigid weather. We had great gear and years of experience. We never had a problem, until the last time we went.

On a Wednesday in weather much like we have in Midland today, about 25° degrees, we set out before dawn from a secluded boat launch ramp, the airboat loaded with four pals, our gear and a big black lab dog. Only one other boat was at the ramp with us, no one else appeared to be on our part of the lake in such weather. As we left shore we started to see ice, and then more ice on the lake. As heavy as the boat was, we ended up driving on top of large stretches of unbroken ice in the more shallow water. An airboat will do that.

As we arrived at more open waters the ice subsided except near the shore, but it was so cold that the exposed carburator on the engine started to ice up. We decided that if we headed to a nearby island far from shore, and let the engine idle the icing problem might clear up. Even with all the clothes we could wear under hunting waders we were pretty chilled from the ride in an open boat. As we approached the shore the boat hit a rock steady hunk of thick ice and started to tip; with the high center of gravity it became apparent that the boat would not right itself.

The stories you hear about time slowing down in traumatic situations are very real. For what seemed like an eternity I could feel the boat going over and then we were in the water, our gear floating around us and the boat heading to the bottom of the lake. Being suddenly immersed in freezing water is a feeling beyond description. All the breath seems to be sucked right out of your body and to make your limbs function takes supreme effort. Any type of warm clothing is of no protection and in fact tends to make you sink. The only thing that immediately saved me were pockets of air in my waders, but having waders on made it almost impossible to swim the 40 yards to the shore of the island. I was not helped by the big black lab who kept jumping on my head and shoulders pushing me under the water. I can see how, in situations like this, that people just give up and drown.

Luckily, I was in fairly good physical shape and was able to struggle near enough to the island to feel bottom and make it ashore where my exhausted friends awaited me. They had been able to grab onto the floating bags of duck decoys and made it to the island ahead of me.

Saved from the water but our ordeal was not over. We were soaking wet, in subfreezing temperatures on an island a good half of a mile from the main shore. God and experience were on our side though. We all carried a waterproof container of matches with us and God had supplied a large pile of flotsam and wood on the island, which we quickly set onfire and found some relief.

God was more involved that we imagined though, for the only other hunters on this part of the lake, the one's we had seen at the boat ramp an hour ealier had been looking in the right direction from a mile away, had seen the spray thrown up by the propeller hitting the water and came breaking through the ice to get to us. In their small boat it took several hours to get us all back to the boatramp and warmth. I'm one who has no doubt that God does have a plan for me and it wasn't to drown or freeze to death that day.

Amazingly we hired a salvage company in Oklahoma to try and recover the boat, which they did the next day, bringing it up unharmed along with all our guns which had been lashed to the side of the boat. That, however, was our last trip in the airboat for when wives found out about the close call there was no reasoning with them and they ordered the boat sold.

I get cold just thinking and writing about that episode, I think I need to go warm up.

Murphys Law, revisited.....

It was just several months ago that I wrote about Murhphy's Law and it's important adjunct Finagles Corollary... "Anything that can go wrong, will—at the worst possible moment"

Well last night the law [with corollary] came to pass once again. Because of the weather I had decided to stay at home with Daphne watching football in front of a cozy fire. The perfect quiet evening at home for dog and man. It started out that way, until as I was cleaning up in the kitchen I noticed that the water pressure was none existant. Thinking that a city main had burst somewhere I let it pass...for a moment. Then, living in an older home, I decided that the best policy would be to check out in the yard just to make sure. As I stepped into the back yard I heard the roar of liquid being expelled under high pressure into the night, sounding something like a runaway gas well.

My hope was that the water main in the alley had broken, therefore a city problem. But luck was not with me, the sound was emanating from within the confines of my yard. As I shined my flashlight on the spot of most suspicion, the lawn sprinkler main valve, I saw a geyser of great proportions shooting up into the trees. A complete blowout sending all the water destined for the house into the sky. To see how I might somehow fix the problem I had to venture into the spray, not a pleasant task in 26° weather. Once soaked I saw that the problem was not fixable by me so I had to acquire tools and venture into the alley to shut off the main water supply to the house.

This accomplished I thought, "well nothing can be done until morning" so at least I have 5 gallons of water available in the R.O. water tank and hey there is still football on. And it was a very exciting game for five minutes. That's when the TV screen suddenly went blue; loss of signal. Same for the phone and internet connection. Prognosis: Grande Communications has gone down. Just when I was working up a good case of "pissed off" at Grande I noticed that the block of houses across the street, usually well lit, were gone. New prognosis: power failure in that grid, which must have included the Grande switch controlling my communications.

I have to once again thank AA for some degree of serenity, because I surely wanted to kick something really hard. I didn't so I went to bed and built up a new case of premeditated "pissed off" knowing that my expensive lawn sprinkler people [the ones who installed the valve only last May] would find some excuse as to why they couldn't send a repairman out until Monday, leaving me waterless until then.

But as I've also learned in AA, my expectations are usually not met and in this case for the better because with one call early today the landscape company had a very nice young guy out in my yard fixing the problem. I have water, I have TV, life is good. We'll try the cozy fire and football again tonight.

Dang it's cold...

Whee doggies Jethro it's cold and with a nice wind and freezing drizzle also just kinda' miserable. So what better thing to do than take D. Daphne Dog for a photo ride and then over to my Mom's to fetch her up for a ride for her too. Her ride was out to Manor Park Retirement Center to visit with our retired church leader Dr. Ray Riddle and his wife. Sounds rather ho-hum and so it is, but after my Dad's death I have much gratitude that I'm here and able to do some small things like this for my Mom. Besides, Dr. Riddle is an inspiring guy.

Though in his 80's Ray is always full of life, homespun wisdom and never a touch of pessimism in his voice. In short, the kind of person I enjoy being around. On a cold and dreary winters day, a nice afternoon out for Dog, Granny and Me.

The Dog as art....

Some years ago I discovered, quite by accident, that I had a certain knack for sculpting dog heads out of clay. I suppose that spending so much time around dogs just gives me an insight into their shapes and moods.

Anyway yesterday, while cleaning out a closet, I ran across several cans of PlayDough© left by former occupants. So what's a guy to do other than open them up and mess around with the stuff. Instinctively I started on a dog's head and I thought what the heck, I'll do D. Daphne Dog and so I did.

Playdough© is a hard medium to work in. Gravity has more an effect on it than ordinary clay, so I had to work fast before the work of art slowly oozed away. The differing colors resulted from some red stains in otherwise mostly yellow Dough.

Probate 101....

Our family doctors generally don't make house calls anymore but I'm sure glad our family attorney does. It was much more comfortable listening for an hour and a half to the in's and out's of probate law while sitting on my Mom's couch.

My Mom is the executrix of my Dad's estate, while I have power of attorney for the same, so I always try to be in attendance while the details of my Dad's passing are worked out. My Mom is still very sharp, but it is good to have two sets of ears listening to the sometimes intricate information being given.

Today was a day for some rapt attention as we work towards filing the probate papers and then begin to work on the economics of the estate. My head is still swimming from listening to attorney Ted filling us in on Trust "A" and Trust "B" and how we need to fund both. Trust "A" is non-taxable, estate wise, Trust "B" is taxable and the one my Mom should take her income from. And to fund Trust "A" we need to value the entire estate. Trust "A" is non taxable only up to a certain sum, so we need to have appraisals done on non liquid assets, add the liquid assets to these fixed assets and then subtract my Mom's seperate property from this total and then divide everything up to fund Trust "A" up to the maximum. The remainder goes into Trust "B" to be subject to the onerous and communistic estate tax imposed by Uncle Sugar.

I told my mom this would be a snap, just call CPA Ron and have him do it all.

Jewish Wisdom.....

What you don't see with your eyes, don't invent with your mouth

A hero is someone who can keep his mouth shut when he is right

One old friend is better than two new ones

Old friends, like old wines, don't lose their flavor

You can't control the wind, but you can adjust your sails

Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe
Albert Einstein

Furnished....!

Decision made, dining room furniture ordered. It'll be good to have this room look like a dining room once again, instead of a photography holding area. Beautiful furniture [table and sideboard pictured] and a good deal. It pays to stay in touch with old high school cheerleader friends turned furniture consultants.

Aliens among us......?

Like many people, I suspect, in smaller news markets such as Midland I read the Obits and the Police Reports daily in the local paper. In a town this size it's a sure bet that on a regular basis you will know someone who has died and trying to help some of the people I do, I'll also occasionally know someone visiting the hoosegaw. In fact I did know someone currently in the Obits and went to his funeral Friday afternoon.

But I sure as hell didn't recognize the name that popped out at me in the police arrest report. If you live in Midland did you know that one, Gemini Uranus, was arrested for tampering with government documents. I'm not making this up, check for yourself in Fridays Midland Reporter-Telegram. If you know this person email me at once and we'll clear up this case.

My first thought was that Gemini gave the cops an alias, but on reflection, I concluded surely that if the authorities knew this person was tampering with official documents they would know his/her real name. This is not like a DWI where they nab the suspect on the streets and he can give them any name he chooses; to arrest someone for tampering with government documents they must have had evidence and been on Mr. Uranus' tail for awhile.

This leads to other postulations, like is there really a Gemini Uranus running around. Is he/she from this earth. Who would from earth would name a child Gemini Uranus? Does he/she have a twin? What would you want to do if you were from a faraway galactic civilization visiting earth? You'd want to look into government records wouldn't you? You might even want to tamper with them.

I suspect a coverup and so I emailed ace reporter Jimmy Patterson early this morning asking him to investigate. But at this late hour I've still received no reply from Mr. Patterson. I hope the Uranus family has not tampered with Jimmy!

As Bill Sees It....

Over time I have quoted some philosophy from AA. Hopefully, I've tried to stress that AA is a spititual program and that more than not, discussions in meetings focus on a better and more "right" way to live more than any mention of alcohol or quiting drinking. Quiting is a natural prerequisite for attaining the benefits of the spiritual program but many of the things that caused us to drink or stay with drinking to excess were spiritual maladies. Therefore we work on not returning to our old ways of thinking and doing things.

About ten years ago I helped found a noon AA meeting that read from a book of AA co-founder Bill Wilson's thoughts, called "As Bill Sees It". After attending for a few years I stopped going, but have recently returned and am pleased that there are more people attending than ever. Bill Wilson, besides being the co-founder of AA, was also a great intellect, philosopher and gifted writer. His writings were collected for the book and are a great source of wisdom whether liquor has crossed one's lips or not. This philosophy and manner of living is why, I think, that my very mainsteam, large church minister stated to me, "if it were up to me, everyone who wanted to be members would have to spend a year in AA before they joined our church".

I'll try to throw a bit of this wisdom out from time to time. So, as we say in AA, take what you need and leave the rest.....

Daily Acceptance

"Too much of my life has been spent in dwelling upon the faults of others. This is a most subtle and perverse form of self-satisfaction, which permits us to remain comfortably unaware of our own defects. Too often we are heard to say, "If it weren't for her [him], how happy I'd be.

Our very first problem is to accept our present circumstances as they are, ourselves as we are, and the people about us as they are. This is to adopt a realistic humility without which no genuine progress can even begin."

Letter from Bill Wilson, 1966

Ellis.....

I was looking again Wednesday afternoon at one of my choices for a new dining table. I was being helped by furniture salesperson Rosemary who is an old friend of mine from high school. As we were talking a nice looking gentleman walked by, turned around and gave me another look. "You look familiar", he said, "did you used to belong to Midland Country Club"? "Yes", I answered "my parents did but they quit the club in 1996, I moved away for many years and I really haven't been out there much since the mid 1960's when I was a young teenager".

"That's what I thought," he said, "That's the time period I remember you from". "My name's Ellis and I used to work there as a waiter with Price and Double "O", I remember you from then". He also remembered Rosemary and her family from that time. Amazing, we are talking about remembering faces from 41-42 years ago. I did remember Ellis and most all the waiters from that far different time, they were rather legendary; very personable, funny and interesting to us teenagers. In fact their names have come up occasionally when my two old high school pals and I have gotten together over the decades.

Ellis, Rosemary and I had a nice chat of remembrance. Ellis has moved on and up and is now a manager with an oil field service company. What a treat to see a face from so long ago and what a memory for faces Ellis has, a trait of a good waiter I suppose!

Furniture....

There is nothing like shopping for new furniture, well perhaps new car shopping tops furniture, but I need furniture not a car. The prospect of new furniture and a change in look at the estate suits me for now. I'm looking for a new dining room table and some easy chairs, whatever those turn out to be.

In a market the size of Midland this is not accomplished as easily as in say, Dallas. I've found a perfect sized and styled [Mission] table, but it is a shade darker than I'd like. I have several more places to go, but a shade darker is OK, I suppose, I like the style.

Easy chairs are not that these days, not easy to find that is; the kinds I like anyway. The "in" style seems to be the darker patterned types. I like the not "in" style colorful and/or colorful stripped.

But I'll keep looking and frankly with the mini boom on in oil country, we do have more choices in where to look than even five years ago.

Welcome back....

Well, as most of you know....stuff happens. Our big adventure has been delayed. Daphne and I were to be off early this morning to see old college friends, Gen. Tom Hill and wife Toni in the hill country. I've known Tom and Toni since 1967, lived with them for awhile at Ft. Benning Ga. in a prior life; they are like brother and sister to me. Tom and Toni also have a profoundly challenged, both physically and mentally, daughter, Meagen. Meggie is a young woman now and over the years many health care professionals have advised the Hills to put Meagen in a group home. They won't hear of it. Toni is a saint.

Last night Toni called and said that Meagen is in the hospital once again with pneumonia like symptoms and we had better plan on getting together in March. I understand completely...First Things First.

I was looking forward to the trip, so was Daphne, her bag was packed. Tom and I were going to recreate a pilgrimage he and I took in 1980, stopping at every small barbeque joint in the hill country we could find. After the last six months I was looking forward to a change in venue and talking to some different folks. And besides being a bubba, Tom is also one interesting guy. Tom recently retired as a Four Star General in the Army and was the SOUTHCOM Commander, which meant he was in command of all U.S. military forces in Central and South America, including the Islamic Boys Camp at Guantamamo. I was looking forward to getting the inside scope of what's happening. But, stuff happens. Looks like a football day for the Daph and Me. That's OK too.

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