We could be Heroes...

I was once called a hero for something I did, and it made me a little uncomfortable. I know everyone has their own heroes, but how many of us ever have a chance to become a hero? We all want to make something of our lives, to make a difference, to matter. This is one of our six basic human needs, the need for significance. Deep down inside us, we all want to be important. We want our life to have meaning and significance. I can imagine no worse thought on my dying bed than to think my life didn't matter.

So when I ask how many of us ever have a chance to be a hero, I'm not necessarily thinking about being a hero on the national or world stage. The way we throw the word around so casually these days, I even wonder if your definition of a hero and mine are the same.

So who might our heroes be anyway?

We see sports figures exalted to so-called hero status all the time. Michael Jordan, Tom Brady, Serena Williams, Alex Rodriguez, Tiger Woods, etc... all great athletes but are their achievements on the court or field worthy of the hero title? What about the players of old...Gale Sayers, or Lou Gehrig, or Mickey Mantle? Billy Crystal has carried a Mickey Mantle baseball card in his wallet since he was old enough to carry a wallet. Sounds to me like the Mighty Mick is Billy's hero. But what do these people stand for? What are their values? What have they done, what have they taught us, how did they deal with the everyday pressures of life that we would want to imitate? In other words, how do their lives or achievements make this world a better place to live?

Perhaps we are confusing the term "hero" with a role model.

--role model--
A person who serves as an example of the values, attitudes, and behaviors associated with a role. For example, a father is a role model for his sons. Role models can also be persons who distinguish themselves in such a way that others admire and want to emulate them. For example, a woman who becomes a successful brain surgeon or airline pilot can be described as a role model for other women.
(The American Heritage® New Dictionary of Cultural Literacy, Third EditionCopyright © 2005 by Houghton Mifflin Company.Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.)

Basketball player Charles Barkley once said that he wasn't a role model. Nicole Ritchey recently said the same thing. They may not be positive role models, but they are role models all the same. Some kid somewhere is looking with great interest at these people and will grow up trying to emulate this hero of theirs. This poor kid will model himself or herself after the very people who don't want to be role models. How do we let this happen? Doesn't hurt the role model but we'll have another supposed superstar who has grown up learning bad behavior and a spoiled brat mentality from their "hero." All because we throw money at these people hand over fist. When did our values get so skewed?

Where have all our real heroes gone? What happened to Superman who fought for "Truth, Justice, and the American Way"? Who fights for that now? Our politicians? Give me a break. Our actors and sports figures and other people of fame? Give me an even bigger break ! ! ! Anyone remember G.I. Joe? When I was a kid, G.I. Joe was the MAN ! ! ! He could take on entire armies all by himself and wipe them out without really breaking a sweat. I saw him do it with my own eyes day after day right in my back yard. He didn't demand $millions for just showing up either.

Some might think of Jack Bauer of "24" as a hero. Jack isn't perfect, as anyone who watches knows… and the actor who plays him, Keifer Sutherland, has his own personal demons to battle, but who wouldn't want someone like Jack on our side? I sure would. I've never heard Jack ask how much he's getting paid or try to renegotiate his contract because some other CTU agent might be making more money. He just gets the job done because we need him. Sound like our superstar athletes?

What about other actors who portray heroes? John Wayne comes to mind. He seemed to be a pretty good role model... or was it the characters he played? It's hard to differentiate sometimes. I don't recall ever hearing about him being involved in a paternity suit. I don't remember reading about him in a nasty holdout because he felt he wasn't being treated fairly. Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with standing up for your rights, but what some people believe to be a "right" is actually a privilege. Is the fact that he wasn't popular fodder for the National Enquirer types to mean that he was boring and uninteresting? Quite the contrary I think. Good, solid, American role model. Am I wrong about this?

Look... I really like the movie "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid." I think it's a well made and acted motion picture, and I always feel sad for them when they meet their ultimate fate at the end. The reality is that these guys (the real BC & SK) were nothing more than thieves and bullies but I always find myself liking them when I watch the movie. This is what the make believe world of Hollywood and professional sports has done to us. It's all flipped upside down and we look at those who should be regarded as a drain on our society as heroes and role models. Yakov Smirnoff said it right... What a country.

It's not just movies and sports either... look at television these days. Two words: Reality Show. Will the next "American Idol" be a hero? What about the next "Survivor" or the winners of "Fear Factor"? How about the Osbornes? Or Dog the Bounty Hunter or even better yet... Anna Nicole Smith and her reality show? She would be a great "hero" or role model for some little girl to look up to, wouldn't she?

"The Biggest Loser" winner could certainly be someone to look up to if you are trying to lose weight. I'm sure to some people Jared who lost all that weight eating at Subway is a hero. I could live with someone looking up to him as a role model, but a hero? Maybe to the corporate types at the Subway offices.

Steve Irwin (The Crocodile Hunter) made a difference. He was a reality show guy who walked the walk and taught us about the animal world we live in. He showed us his work, he shared his family with us, and he had a deep passion for people and animals that we could actually feel through the television screen. Would that we could all have that kind of passion for something worthwhile.

I remember watching the television in the 4th grade at Hill Elementary School in Austin, Texas as Neil Armstrong stepped off that platform and onto the surface of the moon. Man oh man... he was certainly a hero for a while wasn't he? He was to me. After that I had pictures of the Earth from the moon and of the moon itself in my room... all because of him and NASA. Everyone on Earth knew who he was and every kid wanted to be an astronaut. Do our children today even know who he is?

Martin Luther King, Jr. energized an entire race of people by telling them to believe in themselves and that energy is still felt today. He had a dream and was able to make the whole nation understand what his dream consisted of, and because of that dream we see signs of increased racial equality more and more. There may be those who will disagree with that but let me tell you, things certainly are different from when I was a kid. Was MLK Heroic? I think so. He had to know that he was stirring up a firestorm and someone would be gunning for him, and he did it anyway because he believed in the strength of people and that what he was doing was for the better good.

Mother Teresa decided that she would devote her life to easing the pain of those who suffered around her and that whether they lived or died, they would do so with dignity. Did she ever ask for anything for herself? More money to buy better clothes? A limo to take from place to place in style? Nope. Hero !

Steve Irwin, Neil Armstrong, Martin Luther King Jr, Mother Teresa, Mohandas (Mahatma) Gandhi... these people made huge differences in the eyes of the world, to be sure. But there are other kinds of heroes. Everyday heroes who don't make national headlines.

When I think of heroes, I think of the simple ordinary acts of people that change this world for the better. The mother who raises her children to be strong and true to their beliefs. I think of the father who comes home tired and worn down by a day of work and still finds the energy to play catch with his son or let his little girl use him for "dress-up". Parents who actually help their children learn to be a productive member of, instead of a drain on, society. I think of people donating blood over and over again for people they will never meet. I think of volunteers at hospitals. I think of firefighters rushing into burning buildings or police who answer dangerous calls on a daily basis. The list goes on and on... and does so out of the spotlight and glare of sensationalist reporters.

A hero to me is a person who volunteers for the Big Brothers or Big Sisters programs. Someone who tutors or mentors without regard for monetary compensation is a hero to me. Soldiers who fight or die for a cause they may or may not personally believe in, but do it in the belief that their actions will help to preserve freedom and the very American way of life we all are so fortunate to enjoy... are these not heroes? If not them, then who?

"Let the word go forth from this time and place, to friend and foe alike, that the torch has been passed to a new generation of Americans, born in this century, tempered by war, disciplined by a hard and bitter peace, proud of our ancient heritage, and unwilling to witness or permit the slow undoing of those human rights which this nation has always been committed, and to which we are committed today, at home, and around the world. Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe, to assure the survival and the success of liberty." - John F. Kennedy

We don't hear things like this these days. People don't really talk this way anymore. Very few people today will go out on a limb like that. We've become too politically correct. People today seem to shy away from the very idea of being a hero, afraid of the responsibility that goes along with it, or afraid of being taken to court for breaking someone's sternum while saving their life. Charles Barkley and Nicole Ritchey don't want to be known as a role model because they would have to take some responsibility for how they have taught our children to act. What a sad commentary on what we've become.

We all can be a hero to someone. We all can be role models, and probably already are. The question then becomes, what kind of role model am I? We all can make a difference... sometimes a big one. Where is it written that we can't stand up for truth, justice, and the American way ourselves? Who says that making even a small worthwhile difference in the lives of our fellow man isn't heroic? I'm just asking. I had my chance once... maybe it made a big difference to someone, maybe not. I may never know, but then I really don't need to. I did what needed to be done and I hope that if some youngster someday discovers what I did, he or she will consider it an act worth trying to emulate. Am I a hero? Not even close. Not because I don't want to be a hero... I do. It just doesn't apply in this case.

So why was I called a hero? I certainly didn't seek the title or go out of my way to have people call me that. At a time in this country's darkest days when everyone was throwing around the word "hero" casually, I stood by and smiled and let my friends and family pat me on the back and give me ovations and tell me what a brave and heroic deed I had done. While "brave and heroic" may or may not be true, I would have felt more comfortable being hailed a positive role model. I was recognized by civic organizations and congressmen and written about in a national magazine when the truth of the matter is that I felt more like John Kennedy when he was asked how he'd become a hero... "It was involuntary; they sank my boat."

I was thrust into a situation and answered the call. Just an ordinary guy doing my ordinary job under extraordinary circumstances... and someone was paying attention.

Hero or role model... either way I hope I'm worthy because somewhere, someday, I'll do or say something that will make someone want to be like me and if it's because of my own carelessness or bad behavior or because of the size of my bank account, then I've failed that person, and society.

So if you want to know, here it is... you certainly deserve to know if you’ve read this far.

Read the article here

Until next time...

Cheech, Chong, Kenny Rogers... and me

A few years ago I went into a bar with the idea that I would have a beer. I knew better but hey, it's only a beer... right? I mean, who's gonna know anyway? If I want to enjoy an adult beverage, who's gonna care? I was sitting at the bar waiting for my Miller Lite and minding my own business and thinking about how I'm really going to savor this beer when the door opened and in walked a rather tall man. I couldn't really see his features because the room was suddenly filled with sunlight through the open door and my eyes had already become accustomed to the darkness. When the door closed however, I knew immediately that this was someone I really didn't want to see at that moment.

He sat down right next to me at the bar and gave me a look of such disappointment. He looked as though his heart was breaking right there on the stool next to me. It was Spencer Turley, one of the missionaries that worked with Sheri and I back in Richmond. When the bartender came and set the Miller Lite in front of me, I tried to play it off like it wasn't mine and demanded to know where my club sandwich was. Turley wasn't buying it. He just sat there looking at me with such disapproval in his eyes and this guy could look extremely menacing when he wanted to, which I'm sure comes in very handy now that he's a member of Utah's law enforcement.

The sandwich (that I never really ordered) finally came and I started picking at it sheepishly and eyeing the beer just out of my reach and he never said a word. I ordered a glass of milk and he just looked at me. I would have gladly crawled into the nearest hole filled with spiders and rats and snakes just to escape that look he was giving me and I thought for a few moments that I could actually die from that stare.

Then I woke up.

Talk about relief... I wasn't gonna die or have to fight off snakes and the like. I wouldn't have to hang my head in shame every time I saw him. It never really occurred to me while I was dreaming to ask why he was in that bar anyway. I should have known something was up, huh?

Just last week I had a dream about a guy I used to work with named Rick. I was still in Richmond and he was giving me a ride to work, which in itself makes no sense because we were couriers... what exactly was I going to drive if I needed to get a ride?

Anyway we were in his van and there were about 6 kids running around in the back just having a good old time. I was talking to Rick about this and that and I it was slowly dawning on me that the more I talked to him, the more he became Kenny Rogers. Yes... THAT Kenny Rogers. You remember... know when to hold 'em know when to fold 'em, Ruby don't take your love to town, etc... Rick was really that guy.

I asked him about the young kids being in the back by saying something like "Started a little late in the having kids department, didn't you Kenny?" Oh man. My mouth was barely open before I was trying to stuff my foot in. I recovered quickly and brilliantly by adding "Well, that makes sense because you were busy when you were young writing all those great songs like Ruben James. Uh, you DID write that one didn't you?" Talk about smooth.

Then I asked him what it was really like standing in front of all those people and singing. He answered but I didn't hear him because I was already trying to figure out the best way to ask him what Dolly Parton was REALLY like.

And then I woke up.

I remember a couple of dreams vividly from when I was about 5 years old. We lived on a cul-de-sac that ran straight up hill in Austin. Our house was two or three from the top and I had a friend who lived at the bottom of the hill. I was playing with him in his yard when a really friendly dog came up to us. You would think that I'd find it odd that this dog was royal blue in color, but I was five... what did I know?

The dog growled and then turned into some kind of blue monster and chased me all the way up the hill, across the front lawn, through the front door and living room, down the hallway, past the bathroom, and into my bedroom where I woke up just as I was jumping into my bed. I don't remember if I ever mentioned this to my mom or dad, but what I do know is that all the toys that were under my bed stayed there for a very long time.

I've had a couple of dreams that were kinda recurring. There was one about a train that only moved when you rolled a toy train car across the floor. That one was from the blue dog/monster era of my life. I used to have dreams about tidal waves coming and I would climb the nearest tree I could find, usually a really tall palm tree. The wave would come in and the water would go inches beneath my feet and it would wipe out anything and everything in its path... except for my tree. The whole world was mud except for me and my tree. Weird, huh?

I used to look forward to getting a cold because I like to enhance my dreams (as if they really need any enhancing) by taking NyQuil. Man, I used to love that stuff. Take a couple of big swigs right before bedtime and then sit back and enjoy the show. It doesn't work as well anymore since they took the alcohol out. Sorry Turley.

I took a little college psychology back in the '80s and all I know is that we all dream, although some people don't remember them... that dreams take place in the very short term memory section of our brains, which is why some people don't remember them... and that there is no proven fact on why we dream, which is why there are so many theories on the topic.

There is Freud's theory that dreams carry our hidden desires. Will someone out in Utah please call Turley and tell him that I would apparently like to have a beer with him?

There is Jung's theory that dreams carry meaning, although not always of desire, and that these dreams can be interpreted by the dreamer.

After these theories, others continued such as the Cayce theory in that dreams are our body’s means of building up of the mental, spiritual and physical well-being.

Finally came the argument between Evans' theory and the Crick and Mitchinson theory. Evans states that dreaming is our body’s way of storing the vast array of information gained during the day, whereas Crick and Mitchinson say that this information is being dumped rather than stored.

Whichever theory is true, we may never know, but what I would like to know from someone... anyone... and quickly... is how Cheech and Chong ever became missionaries for our church.

And then I woke up.

Until next time...

Texas

I'm a Texan. What else is there to say? I'm not being boastful or arrogant about the fact, it's just that... a fact. I am a Texan.

When you're from Texas, people that you meet ask you questions like, "Do you have any cows?" "Do you have horses?" "Bet you got a bunch of guns, eh?" They all want to know if you've been to Southfork. They of course watched "Dallas."

Have you ever looked at a map of the world? Look at Texas with me just for a second. That picture, with the Panhandle and the Gulf Coast, and the Red River and the Rio Grande is as much a part of Texans as anything ever will be. As soon as anyone anywhere in the world looks at it they know what it is. It's Texas!

Pick any kid off the street in Japan and draw him a picture of Texas in the dirt and he'll know what it is. What happens if I show you a picture of any other state? You might get it maybe after a second or two, but who else would? And even if you do, does it ever stir any feelings in you?

Inside every man, woman and child on this planet, there is a person who wishes just once he could be a real live Texan and get up on a horse or ride in a pickup. There is some bit of Texas in everyone. Did you ever hear anyone go, "Wow...so you're from Iowa? Cool, tell me about it?"

Do you know why? Because there's no place like Texas.

My parents went to the University of Texas, NCAA Football national champions a few years ago.

I was born in the state capital of Austin, not far from and in view of the UT tower.

Texas has a few blemishes on her because of what happened in Dallas and Waco, but what state doesn't have its share us unpleasantness? We have so much to be proud of when it comes to our beloved Lone Star State.

Texas is the Alamo. Texas is 183 men standing in a church, facing thousands of Mexican nationals, fighting for freedom, who had the chance to walk out and save themselves, but stayed instead to fight and die for the cause of freedom.

We send our kids to schools named William B. Travis and James Bowie and Crockett and do you know why? Because those men saw a line in the sand and they decided to cross it and be heroes. John Wayne paid to do the movie himself. That is the Spirit of Texas.

Texas is Sam Houston capturing Santa Ana at San Jacinto. Texas is Juneteenth and Texas Independence Day. Texas is huge forests of Piney Woods like the Davy Crockett National Forest. Texas is breathtaking mountains in the Big Bend. Texas is the unparalleled beauty of bluebonnet fields in the Hill Country and along the highways. Texas is the beautiful, warm beaches of the Gulf Coast of South Texas and Texas is the shiny skyscrapers in Houston and Dallas.

Texas is world record bass from places like Lake Fork. Texas is Mexican food like nowhere else, not even Mexico. Texas is the Fort Worth Stockyards, Bass Hall, and the Astrodome. Texas is larger-than-life legends like Willie Nelson, Buddy Holly, Waylon Jennings, Stevie Ray Vaughan (pictured left), Janis Joplin, Kris Kristofferson, Tom Landry, Darrell Royal, ZZ Top, Eric Dickerson, Earl Campbell, Nolan Ryan, Denton Cooley and Michael DeBakey, Sam Rayburn, George Bush, Lyndon B. Johnson, and George W. Bush.

Texas is great companies like Dell Computer, Texas Instruments and Compaq. Texas is NASA. Texas is huge herds of cattle and miles of crops.

Texas is skies blackened with doves, and fields full of deer. Texas is a place where cities shut down to watch the local High School Football game on Friday nights and for the Cowboys or the Texans on Monday Night Football, and Night in Old San Antonio River Parade. Texas is ocean beaches, deserts, lakes and rivers, mountains and prairies, and modern cities. If it isn't in Texas, you don't need it. No one does anything bigger or better than it's done in Texas.


By federal law, Texas is the only state in the U.S. that can fly its flag at the same height as the U.S. flag. Think about that for a second.
You fly the Stars and Stripes at 20 feet in Maryland, California, or Maine and your state flag, whatever it is, goes at 17 feet. You fly the Stars and Stripes in front of Pine Tree High in Longview at 20 feet, the Lone Star flies at the same height - 20 feet.

Do you know why?

Because we place being a Texan as high as being an American down here.
(It's really because Texas is the only state that was a republic before it became a state.)

Our capitol is the only one in the country that is taller than the capitol building in Washington, D.C. and we can divide our state into five states if we want to! We included these things as part of the deal when we came onboard.

That's the best part right there.

I may have lived in other states all over this country and I now reside in Missouri, but I'll always be a Texan. I am living proof that you can take the boy out of Texas but you can't take the Texan out of the boy.

The eyes of Texas are upon you... Long live Texas.

Until next time...

It's a Jeep Thing, Baby...

Man, it's hard to be humble when you drive a Jeep.

When you know that you are the envy of everyone else on the roads because of what you're driving, it's tough not to look down the nose and try to fit in with drivers of common automobiles. Other Jeep drivers know this feeling well.

I got my Jeep Grand Cherokee in 2004 and it's been a mutual love affair ever since. It's really quite simple... I love my Jeep and my Jeep loves me.

It has helped me deliver literally thousands of Richmond Times Dispatch newspapers. It has helped me deliver many other items of importance when I was a courier in Richmond. It has carried me through wooded areas of the region where I now reside. We've crossed streams and rivers together, towed trailers full of firewood down curving winding dirt roads. It's even hauled firewood in the back two thirds of the passenger area when no trailer was available.

Does it complain? Nope

Does it ever let me down? Hasn't happened

Does it ever get stuck in mud or snow? Oh, make me laugh ! ! !

Driving a Jeep is a justified reason to feel superior to other motorists who somehow feel themselves worthy to occupy the open roads of this great land of ours. What other brand of vehicle can offer this kind of supremacy? Harley Davidson, perhaps... but I've never seen a Harley hauling a good load of, well... anything. Have you?

So that leaves us with the first, the last and the Mother of all SUVs... the Jeep.

While my Jeep might not be the Wrangler that so many people associate with the name "Jeep", it still qualifies me to participate in "The Wave." Now you might ask "But Lynn, What is the wave???" Well let me explain...

Have you ever been in a Jeep when it is approaching another Jeep? You know what I'm talking about if you have. Jeep drivers are fond of waving to each other. In fact, some would even consider this practice as mandatory... and there are even rules of conduct for the wave.

Jeepin' Wave Rules

These rules are an attempt to make it easier to facilitate the mandatory wave when coming in contact with another vehicle of the Jeep nature. Though there are several variations of the waving rules, the following were designed as an easy to remember guideline for when to wave and who should wave first.

Rule 1:If you are a driver or passenger in a Jeep vehicle, and you come in contact with another occupied Jeep vehicle you should wave. If the vehicle is not occupied, the wave is optional.

Rule 2:Be the first to wave. Don't wait, just wave.

Rule 3:Be forgiving. Sometimes the occupants of the Jeep receiving the wave are not paying attention, distracted, or are paying attention to driving. We all know how you can get lost in the euphoria of driving a Jeep and forget about the outside world.

Rule 4:Wave vigorously. When cruising at 55mph towards a vehicle going 55mph it is sometimes difficult to see the 'over the steering wheel' wave. Get that hand out and make it seen!

Rule 5:When you are the recipient of a wave, return the wave.

Rule 6:Sometimes Jeep owners forget they are not in their Jeep and wave by habit. When occupants of non-Jeep vehicles wave, returning the wave is optional, but usually a good idea.

There are groups formed all over the country of Jeep enthusiasts who get together and discuss how "Jeeping" greatly enhances one's life and stature in the community. And they wave to each other a lot too, I'm sure.

Ever heard of "Camp Jeep?" Go check it out here... Camp Jeep 2007 >> .

Jeep has its own myspace account... The Jeep Profile on MySpace >>.

Facebook... The Jeep Group on Facebook >>.

There's The Jeep Channel on YouTube >> , Jeep Jamboree >> , and Jeep Games >> .

There's even the Jeep National Anthem >> .

I'm doing the best that I can under the circumstances, but as I said earlier, it's hard to be humble when you drive a Jeep. What other vehicle would dare to wear a window sticker upside down that reads "If you can read this, turn me back over?"

Rugged, daring, brave, dependable, stylish... and wave worthy.

So with a slight air of haughtiness and arrogance in my voice, and through my customarily unshaven face, I say to the less fortunate ... It's a Jeep thing, you wouldn't understand.

Until next time...

Sips From Worthy Cups

It is the end of a good week that began with the end of a fishing trip and is ending with an increased and surprising understanding of what this blog means to me. I'm certain that a post in the near future will describe this newfound understanding. The ugly weather that is all around us has missed us yet again. Sunny day today and we were able to complete quite a few tasks at the remodel job. I'm looking forward to building a new home again though.

I've been thinking about this one for a while now... never really quite sure where to put it.

At Christmas time in 1995, I was in Denver with my parents, my grandmother, and my two cousins at the home of my Aunt Sylvia and her husband Monty.

It was a wonderful holiday for us all and I have many wonderful memories of that trip.

One such memory was how my cousin Kevin and I cheated during a game of Trivial Pursuit. There were many discussions around the table during that game, and this particular game was team play. Can you guess who my partner was? We were seated next to each other at the table and when it was someone else's turn and while spirited debates ensued over the validity of certain answers printed on the game cards, Kevin and I would pick out the next few cards in the deck and would study them together so as to have a "competitive advantage" over the other teams. Right under their noses and we were never caught.

While that may seem dishonest, it was all in fun... and we ended up losing anyway. Not really sure how that happened. I guess we were more concerned about getting away with it than using our winning strategy to actually win the game. Good times, anyway.

While I was there, my two cousins (Kelly & Kevin) and I took Monty's Jeep and went exploring a few times. One day we ended up in a town called Estes Park, Colorado. http://www.estes-park.com/. It's a great little tourist type place and we saw elk strolling right through town while we were there. There are lots of little shops and places to eat, and it's just a cool little place to visit.

We stopped into a little coffee shop to sit for a bit and have something to eat. This place was very small and I wish I could remember the name of it. I can't, but I do remember something about the place that was unique, at least to me.

When we walked into the place, directly across from the door was the counter with several of the locals positioned on stools. There were a few tables here and there, but it was the walls that attracted my attention. On every wall in the place were shelves running the entire length of the wall and jutting out just wide enough to hold coffee cups. They were spaced one above the other enough for coffee cups to fit, and the shelves were full almost to capacity with cup after cup after cup. There were hundreds of coffee cups of all shapes and sizes... and under each cup was the name of the person who owned that cup. He or she would come in for some morning java, take his or her cup from its place on the shelves, and would enjoy a cup of joe out of their favorite mug as if it were an old friend. Who knows? That cup might have been an old friend indeed. The staff would wash the cup and return it to its rightful place.

Casting my eyes about, I could see that some of the cups were short and some were tall. Some were white, some black, some were solid colors of red and blue and yellow and all the colors in between. Still others were adorned with very colorful patterns. Some cups were very old and others were brand new. A few looked as if they had just been in service and well cared for, but others looked forgotten and neglected.

There were those that looked like they belonged together next to each other on the shelves, as if they belonged to a married couple, and then a there were a few that looked as if they should have a shelf of their own. Some were plain, some were simple, and a few were modest and unpretentious while others were fancy and elegant. There were some that were downright funny looking, and others were just funny. Some even looked as if they'd been broken and glued back together again.

There were cups of different shapes and sizes and colors and each one seemed to have its own certain personality, and I believe that if they were studied and analyzed they would probably say something about the people who drank out of them.

Now I'm sure there are other places that do the same thing, this was just the first time I had seen something like this.

I've thought about those cups now and then over the years since I visited that little coffee shop. Several analogies spring to mind when I think of them, but the one that I keep coming back to is our personal relationships.

The personal relationships we keep are as varied and diverse as those mugs in that little coffee shop. It's been said that "Birds of a feather flock together" and while that is true for the most part, I would hate to think that I could only hang out with people who are exactly like myself. What a terrifying thought. I don't know how the people who choose to associate with me can do it for very long. I know that sounds funny and self deprecating but it's really not meant to be.

Think of it this way... how boring would life be if there were only one type of person, and that person were you? There could never be any surprises because we'd always know what the others were thinking. There's no opportunity for teaching or learning when everyone knows what I know. We've all seen movies or TV shows that depict this sort of thing... everyone looks alike and dresses the same and acts and talks and walks and thinks like everyone else. In the movies this is never a good thing and I think that it would be horrible to find ourselves in such an environment.

Wasn't there someone who wanted things this way? Wasn't there a plan that would essentially make us all mind numbed robots incapable of free thought or individuality? We didn't accept that plan before and I for one wouldn't want it that way now.

I love the energy that comes from having relationships with as many people as I can. The conglomerate of influences that comes from surrounding ourselves with diverse relationships can help us to mold ourselves into the kind of people we really would like to be.

Look at it this way... it's like a recipe for ourselves. Many different ingredients makes an awesome gumbo, but if we take out just one ingredient or alter the amount of another, then the gumbo turns out differently. If we add the wrong ingredient, it could potentially ruin the whole thing. We associate with the type of people we think will make us better, stronger, wiser, etc... And shy away from those who will harm us or change us in a negative way or even ruin us.

I wrote a few posts back that we all remain the same people we were 10 years ago except for the people we meet and the books we read. I read as much as I can, but the real influence I believe comes from the relationships we keep. The trick is to choose carefully. I'm not afraid to meet anyone... I'm not exactly shy, but I am rather selective as to with whom I will choose to spend my free time. Influence from others can be large and easily spotted, or it can be very quiet and unseen. And it's usually the subtle influence that can do the most harm to us.

My daughter Rebecca made some plaques a few years ago that said "Choose your friends wisely for you will tend to be like them." How insightful is that? That is extremely good counsel for anyone of any age or background.

There's no need to be afraid of new and different associates, but there is a strong need to exercise caution. Diversity in our relationships is a wonderful thing indeed if handled with care. Personally, I wouldn't have given those coffee mugs a second glance if they had all been the same. Who would care about that?

There’s also an opportunity to think about what kind of coffee cup I would like to be. What will others think when they see me on the shelf? Will I be the kind of mug that someone I care about will want to take down and spend some time with? Am I the kind of person whom others will want to associate? There seems to be more responsibility on my part to be a friend rather than have a friend.. Ralph Waldo Emerson stated it rather plainly when he said “The only way to have a friend is to be one.” The true measure of myself is not how many friends I have, but to how to many people I have been a friend.

God, my Savior Jesus Christ, my family, my friends, my loved ones, my associates, my brethren and sisters all over this world has had some influence upon me. Some have had a profound impact on which I have become, and others have played a bit part. Most of the influence has been good, some of it has been not so good, none of it so far has ruined me, and I feel so very grateful for all the people in my life. My hope is that your homes are forever too small to hold all of your friends.

As for me, I am surrounded by an eclectic collection of coffee mugs and I couldn't be happier.

I'm going to need to build more shelves soon though.

Until next time...

Step Aside, Angelina

The topic today is one that touches all of our lives. It's not a pleasant subject, but it is one that can scar one's self esteem and create shame and humiliation for most of this county's adult population. If you're squeamish, turn away. If you have a difficult time facing an ugly truth, exit out of this blog now and save yourself the anguish that surely lies ahead.

If you've gotten this far, this is your last warning... much pain and suffering awaits.

Well... here goes and believe me, this will be equally tough for me.

I have lived in several states in this country... Texas, Ohio, California, New Mexico, Virginia, and now Missouri. There is one common thread with all of these states (and I assume all others as well) that is needless and can be best described as a blatant abuse of power. I have a fundamental belief that there is good in everyone but this practice pushes the limit of that belief. It's the ugliest side of humanity that I can think of, and yet it goes on many hundreds of times a day, day after day, year after year, unchecked and unchallenged by the very people it hurts the most.

My driver's license photo is hideous. That's the only way to accurately describe it. Hideous !!!

I don't look like this. I'm not in any danger of winning any Mr. America contests to be sure, but neither did I fall out of the ugly tree hitting every branch on the way down. Thanks to the lighting and the camera angle at the Ava DMV, I look like a deranged escapee from the mental block of the most maximum security corrections facility in the country. If I looked in the mirror and saw that looking back at me, I'd run outside and wait for vampire bats to attack so I wouldn't have a reflection anymore.

It's not just the current one either... Every license I've ever had has a horrendous looking photo on it. My eyes are closed... one eye is closed... I'm in the middle of a yawn, or a sneeze, or a cough... a bug just flew in my mouth... there's food on my face... something is hanging out of my nose... the color is off and I'm either green or orange... my smile looks more like a grimace from having a 250 pound anvil dropped on my toes... I look drunk, or stoned, or both. Something is going to be terribly wrong with the photo that they take.

Here's what I'm up against with this latest piece of artistry.I go to write a check at my local convenience store and when they ask me for my ID, they take one look at it and start shoving cash from the register into a paper bag, taking off their jewelry and handing it to me across the counter, and begging me to spare their lives or to at least have mercy when I kill them. All I wanted was a Diet Mountain Dew and some sunflower seeds but they act like I drove into the middle of their store armed with a Sherman tank and dressed like the unibomber. I have to remind them that I've lived a half mile from their establishment for over a year and come in on an almost daily basis usually paying for my purchases with cash before the color slowly returns to their faces, I get my license back with a nervous laugh, and feel that I can leave without fear of a personal visit from John Walsh of "America's Most Wanted".

Can someone explain to me why the DMV does this? Do they take pride in taking bad photos? Do they set-up the camera and lights when no one is there and then save the settings when the practice photos turn out barely recognizable? And why do we as taxpayers stand for this? We have certain unalienable rights, do we not? Didn't the founding fathers put something about this in our constitution?

And here is the worst practice they employ... they wait and wait and wait until just the right moment when you're the least prepared you've ever been for a photo shoot and then BAM. Right upside the frontal view of your face. I check myself in mirrors on the drive to the DMV. I check again in the men's room before it's my turn. There's always a mirror right there that seems to mock me and say "Go ahead and check... it's not going to matter anyway." But I make the one last check and when I'm mistakenly satisfied that this could turn out decent for a change, they somehow take a photo that makes all the posters in the post office look like Glamour Shots.

Is it because I'm just an average citizen with no real clout or leverage against them? I wonder if celebrities are treated this way. Take Angelina Jolie, for instance. She always looks so stunning, even when the paparazzi get a shot of her just grocery shopping with her kids and after several hours at the gym. Why can't my photo ever look that good? I'm curious what her driver's license picture looks like though. I'd wager real money that even Angie's photograph looks like she went a few rounds with Holyfield. And I'll bet that not even Donald Trump gets to re-take his photo if he doesn't like the way his hair looks. Is it just me, or is there another reason we never see celebs' DL photos?

I would think that local law enforcement could certainly enforce how their picture turns out, I mean they carry guns. So why not mine? Why couldn't I take my friend Phillip who has sworn "to protect and to serve" with me when I get my license renewed to make sure that I'm treated with dignity and respect? Is that too much for a taxpayer to ask? I'm just asking.

Do you think that this unexplained phenomenon occurs only in this country? Have any of you ever seen a drivers license from France? How about England or Germany? What about Mexico? They're pretty close to us. I wonder if the good citizens of Australia have to hide their licenses like we do.

Maybe the DMV will let me bring my own photo next time and then scan it into their computer. I could go to the mall and feed quarters into that little booth until I get a picture that doesn't make me look so maniacally insane and wondering what planet I'm on this week. I could even go to Glamour Shots and ask them to make me look like a rugged leading man type such as Harrison Ford. I could ask for the dashing ladies man look like Clark Gable. I might go to one of those kiosks at the mall where they take your picture and with the aid of a computer can give you 50 different hairstyles in a matter of seconds. I've been wanting to do that anyway... you know, to dream about how the other half lives... but hey, that's a topic for another day.

Even if I did all of that, what good would it do anyway? If I took my own picture in, I'm sure they would have to skew it this way and that way to fit their format and I'd end up looking like a very short and fat Harrison Ford or a really tall and skinny Clark Gable with hair so tall that it would make Marge Simpson envious. And if they couldn't do that, I'd end up green or with stripes or some other type of skin condition.

I'm telling you, the only good thing about these pictures is the fact that we are living in an age where we don't have to show ID as much anymore, what with the debit card and online banking and internet shopping. It's a good thing too... I really loathe the looks of pity that I seem to get whenever I have to drag this thing out.

So here I am with my latest excellence in photography. This last time I went in for my photo shoot to replace the license I "lost", I got myself ready, primped and preened in the mirror and made them wait. No food on my face... good. Nothing hanging out... good. Smile... good. Look like I'm not ready then smile fast enough at the slightest sound of increased pressure from her finger on the button... yes, I practiced that too.

I was ready.

I stepped in front of the camera and struck my pose and plastered an award winning smile on my face and became as stone. My nose itched and I didn't move. A roach crawled up my pants leg and I didn't budge. A gust of breeze from another poor hapless soul entering the building moved a few of the hairs out of their assigned places, and still I remained motionless. She turned away from the camera to answer a question from her co-worker, but I wasn't fooled for a second. I was frozen. Then she took her hand off of the camera button and started talking to the other lady about some bake sale for her daughter's cheerleading squad, and I saw the opportunity to become assertive and take some charge of the situation. I cleared my throat, glared at her for a few moments, then said through my sore jaw muscles "Look, Lady... will you just... take... the da...." CLICK

Step Aside, Angelina ! ! !

Until next time...

If I Only Had the Time

It was a great day today. Sam, Donnie, and I accomplished quite a bit on the remodel job we're doing right now. The weather was wonderful but we were inside most of the day... made a difference though. Mom came by and saw the house for the first time since we started, and I think she liked what she saw. She always has a good eye for the work we do and can point out things that need changing.

I was going through some old stuff of mine last night and ran across an exercise I did about 8 or 9 years ago.

One day, I went down to the lake close to where I used to live in Richmond, and I sat there looking out at the water and boaters and thought about what I would like to do or learn or accomplish if I could somehow find the time.

Think about that... If you really had more time, what would you do with it? What's something you'd like to do if you had a couple of extra hours a week that were just for you? Two hours, three hours, four hours... just a little extra time.

Well, I thought why not share what's on my list? Many of mine still apply today. I've accomplished some, started some but need to continue, and some I may never do but so what... it's my list, not quite a "Bucket List" like in the movie that's out now, just things that aren't earth shattering or life altering that would bring me (or possibly someone else) a little joy in this life.

Spend more time with Jessica and Justin - My two children from my first marriage. We went a long time being out of touch with each other. The gap between us is closing more and more as time goes by and I'm thrilled beyond belief to have them back in my life again, even if on a limited basis.

Learn to dance - Anyone who has seen me attempt to dance know there is a definite need for this one. I'd like to be able to take Sheri dancing and not embarrass the both of us.

Write a love song for Sheri - I wrote one for the piano called "Sheri's Lullaby" but it has no words to it, so I guess I'm half way there on this one.

Write a novel - If I take all these posts and bind them, could I call that a novel? Probably not. I'd like to write just a fun story of fiction.

Master fire walking - I did a fire walk in December of 1997 in Dallas, Texas. The walk was only about 12 feet, but just when I was about to go, they stopped me and added fresh coals. I was a little taken back but I regained my focus and walked right across. Invigorating experience to be sure... now I'd like to go for a 40 ft walk.

Play more golf - I'm not sure about this one anymore. The last time I played my shoulders started hurting so bad (arthritis) that I couldn't finish the round. I was really mad at that. I'd still like to be able to play though.

Play more tennis - Same as golf.

Learn to fly a plane - If you read my post called "Unlimited Trips to the Fixins Bar" you know that I started learning this one before I was hurt in a car accident. I signed up for the lessons specifically because of this list.

Learn massage therapy - A friend of mine told me once that there's no such thing as a bad massage. I know I've never received a bad one so maybe I don't need to learn as much as I thought I did. I would however like to be able to relieve sore muscles and aches and pains through massage. I guess some biology study is in order.

Learn to kayak - This just sounds like fun to me. I've been down rivers in a canoe, but the kayakers look like they're having more fun. I don't get how they just flip themselves back up when they tip over upside down though.

Write to friends and family - uh... hello. just kidding. I'm sure I meant more personal greetings instead of this blog.

Learn to paint - My grandfather started watching those painting shows with William Alexander and Bob Ross after he retired and he became very good. I have some of his work hanging in my home. I'd like to learn do that... very expressive.

Read more - Someone told me years ago that we all remain the same people we were 10 years ago except for the people we meet and the books we read. When I was a kid, I used to lie in bed with my head at the foot of my bed next to the door and read by the light coming in from the hallway. Peter Pan, The Wizard of Oz, stuff like that. I loved to read then and I love to read now.

Visit the mountains - There's something magically tranquil about being in the mountains. I've been to Aspen in the Rockies, the Blue Ridge Mountains in Virginia, the Sierras in California, and now I live in the Ozarks. I guess I could cross this one off my list, but I'm not gonna.

Learn to scuba dive - I love all the different marine life that the oceans have to offer. Besides, I might find that big blue diamond that lady threw overboard at the end of "Titanic."

Walk / Hike - I've been very interested in those people who hike from Georgia to Maine along the Appalachian Trail. I thought at one time that I would like to do that, and I guess I still do, but reality dictates that one this one, I might be a little too fragile to attempt the feat by the time I have enough time to do it. I still like to read about it though.

Visit the beach - I don't know why I put this one down. I love the water and I love to be outdoors and I love the ocean, but I always feel nasty and sticky when I come off of a beach. I like water parks and clean pools better. Sheri loves the beach though so I'll go for her.

Travel like Charles Kuralt - I don't have a really strong desire to travel to other countries (except possibly Italy), but I do want to travel the back roads of the states and see what I can find. I have read quite a few of his books and I think it would be really cool just take some time and go, and see where the wind takes us.

Exercise - My doctor would be thrilled if I did more of this.

Swim - Like I said, I love the water.

Go on picnics - I remember one in particular when I was a kid. Our family went on a picnic with the Coldwaters. We were in a big grassy field in Austin, Texas next to a stream. I remember that we had a huge bucket of chicken from what was known back then as Kentucky Fried Chicken, lots of sides and drinks. My sisters and I played in the water with the Coldwater kids and I remember that there were big flat rocks that made the bed of the river and they were extremely slippery. The things we remember, huh? Anyway, I'd like to take Sheri on a picnic to a place like that.

Learn to sail - Again with the ocean, but this time I would be captain of my own destiny. Probably not really, but it sounds impressive, doesn't it?

Learn woodworking - Every man wants to be Norm from "The New Yankee Workshop" and every woman wants to be married to a guy like Norm. I just want to make some clocks and maybe some furniture.

Learn to fly fish - How can you not want to learn that after watching "A River Runs Through It"?

Study more history - I missed a golden opportunity to learn much of the Civil War history when I was in Richmond. I still like history though... Those who don't learn from history are doomed to repeat it.

Learn magic - Simple things like card tricks or coin tricks to amuse and amaze kids.

Attend an opera - There's a part of me that wants to experience what some might call "the finer things in life".

Attend a symphony - Same explanation.

Read to a hospitalized child - Can't really explain where this comes from, but I feel like I should do it.

Grow herbs - I would love to be able to go outside and pick all the herbs and spices I need for my cooking. I'm looking forward to having a greenhouse for that very purpose.

Learn to be a clown & to juggle - There are very few (if any) sounds that I enjoy more than laughter, especially from children. I know there are "clown schools" out there, but I'm not really looking for a new profession.

Host a murder mystery dinner - Been looking into this one again lately. It just sounds like fun to me.

Donate blood / plasma / platelets - I used to donate quite a bit when I lived in Houston. I got a coffee mug that says I'm up to 6 gallons donated so far. I like the feeling I get when I give. Besides, blood needs to be changed like the oil in your car, doesn't it?

Learn to ice skate - I went to the Galleria shopping mall in Houston one time during the middle of a weekday, and on the ice rink in the middle of the mall was an older couple skating around and around and around together, arm in arm, skating in perfect unison with each other, and they looked so happy that I almost cried. When they first appeared, everyone else took seats off to the side and watched as they had the ice all to themselves. They skated for 2 or 3 songs then took off their skates and left. They had obviously been there before and even more obviously had been skating together for years.

Skydive - I have a thing about heights and this falls under the category of "conquering my fears".

Learn Boy Scout skills - I am teaching the 11 year old scouts now so I'm learning a lot.

Piano lessons - I can play a little, but I can't read a note.

Guitar lessons - Still can't read a note, and can't play a note either.

Learn to invest - A more accurate description of this one would be "Learn to invest and not lose my butt in the process". Makes a little difference that way.

Teach - I have several opportunities to do this each month, and I really enjoy teaching.

Cooking - I have fallen in love with Alton Brown and the Food Network, and the longer it takes to prepare and cook it, the better I like it.

Raise cockatiels - I think any kind of parrot is beautiful. I like cockatiels because they're smaller, can't really hurt you if they bite, and are fun to train. I used to have one a long time ago that would throw a fit if I went into the shower without him. He'd sit up on the shower curtain rod and have a blast in the water that would splash on him.

Join Toastmasters - I love public speaking and need a place where I can practice.

Go on a mountain bike ride - Peaceful, quiet, a little exercise, in the mountains. Sounds like a good way to spend an afternoon on a nice day.

Take photographs - I tried to take some from other people's homes, but they stopped inviting me over. Rebecca has quite a talent for photography and I like having some of her work in our home.

Throw pottery - Sit at a potter's wheel and make some of the pots that I grow herbs in. Maybe some bigger ones to go around the porch. Lots of uses for good pots.

Listen to music - I don't sit back and close my eyes and just enjoy music as much as I would like to.

Weave a basket - I saw a home in one of my log home magazines that had hundreds of baskets all over the place, not just thrown around but on display. I thought that was kinda neat and it led me to thinking I like to learn how to do that.

Well, that's my list. It's been fun for me to see it after so long and try to remember why I wanted to do some of these things in the first place. This was from quite a few years ago and I have more things now that I want to do, but I'll leave that for another day.

It's a fun little exercise to do and I hope you'll take a few moments and make your own list. Who knows? It might tell you a lot about yourself. It might open up some new ideas for you too. I know it sure did for me.

Something to think about.

Until next time...

Guido, Guapo, and the Others they Allow to Live Here

Nothing too heavy today. We were expecting a snowstorm during last night but it went all around us, missing us completely. Places as close as 25 miles away got 8 inches of snow, so we really lucked out. Weather was rather nice for us... mid 40's so Sam and I got in some good work today.

Allow me at this time to introduce the other members of our family.

My mom had a cat that delivered a litter of kittens around July 4th of 2006, shortly before we moved here. During our visit that July, Sheri set her eyes on two of the kittens and after we were settled into our new home we brought home Guido and Guapo.

Guido is an orange long haired cat who will eat anything and everything dropped on the floor in the kitchen. We worried at first if he would leave any food ever for his brother. He has become rather large in stature. He sleeps more than the Guapo and is much more affectionate. He craves attention quite a bit, which includes crawling up on laps and demanding much rubbing and scratching. He has decided that when you stop scratching his head, it's his duty to grab your hand and pull it back down. He will tolerate a good brushing only for a few minutes which is never long enough given the amount of hair he leave where ever he plants himself for a nap.

Guapo is grey and more streamlined than his brother. He has short hair so we don't find as much evidence of his presence here. He is much more independent, allowing a rub on the head when and only when he decides it's appropriate. He is the curious one of the two. Whenever a drawer or cabinet opens, he will investigate thoroughly. He has learned to open the cabinets under the kitchen counters and lets them slam back shut. He likes to escape outside when he sees an opportunity to do so. This usually happens at night and then we are forced to go outside with flashlights and circle the house a few times until we see the yellow glow of his eyes in the beam of light. Guapo has taken to sleeping under the covers while Guido is more like me... on top.

When they first came home, I would roll them on their backs and pat their bellies a little. Over time, the belly pats would get a little harder and harder as they got older and bigger. Now, they seem to think if they don't get a good belly pounding every day that I don't love them any more. Guapo will position himself in front of me on the kitchen floor and roll over on his back... then wait. I have ignored him on occasion and he has repositioned himself in front of me again. Guido will take the belly poundings, but he doesn't ask for them as much as Guapo does.

Dan showed up at my first jobsite one day a couple of months after we were here. He was very skittish at first and wouldn't come close to us, but he wouldn't leave either. At lunchtime we offered him pieces of our sandwiches but he wouldn't take them. Then we threw down a half a sandwich and left. He grabbed it and took it to the other side of the field to eat it. He ventured closer and closer to us for the remainder of the day until we were able to pet him, and then it was all over. He was right there with us all the time.

We could tell that he was very hungry so I took him home to feed him and introduced him to Sheri as "Danog" or Dan for short. He looked to have some pit bull in him, but I'm not sure. I took him to work with me every day expecting someone to show up and claim him, but no one ever did. He became a regular part of our jobsites. I taught him to sit and stay and he loved to play catch with a tennis ball. I thought he would make a great Frisbee dog so we started working on that. He was just starting to get the idea of chasing the Frisbee when he jumped at the perfect time when I was flinging it out for him and it hit him right across the face. Needless to say his Frisbee chasing days were over. He cowered every time he saw it from then on. Besides... tennis was good enough.

Danno loved to go places with me in the Jeep. We would jump in and find his place on the floor or on the passenger seat and would go anywhere I wanted. Sometimes I would let him out to chase cows or go swimming in a stream and then he'd jump back in and we'd continue our journey. He was uncomfortable being in the house so he stayed outside all the time.

Then one day, he was gone. I don't know what happened to him... he just stopped being at our house. I spent some time searching at other houses near by and looking in the ditch that runs along the side of the highway we live on, but I never found any trace of him. I can only hope that someone who needed a good dog more than me picked him up and has given him a good home. I really doubt it, but that's what I hope happened anyway.

I really miss him. Goodbye, my friend.

Another of my mom's cats had another litter of kittens around April of 2007 and we claimed four little kitties this time. Three boys and a girl. We named them Junior (Sheri's favorite NASCAR driver), Gordon (my favorite driver), Frankie (because he had very blue eyes), and Samantha. These were our outside cats for catching mice and keeping other assorted rodents away from the homestead. Junior ended up going to Idaho with Rebecca's friend Sunny last fall, and Samantha disappeared a couple of months after that. Gordon looks strikingly similar to Guido... long haired fat cat, and Frankie is built like the sleek Guapo but has orange hair like the other two. They do their job disposing of most undesirables, so we're pretty happy with them.

Then there's the mighty Baxter.

Sheri got her hands on a book by the famed attorney and talk show host Mark R. Levin called "Rescuing Sprite - A Dog Lover's Story of Love and Anguish" (see Washington Times - Man's worst loss) and said I should read it after informing me (to my great astonishment) that I would need another dog. Well, I did read the book, in one sitting on a day off from work, and immediately agreed with her assessment... I need another dog.

I had learned that very week that the dog that had been hanging around the jobsite where we were working now did not in fact belong to the people across the street from the job, but was in fact a stray. He was a larger dog than Dan, looked to be some kind of shepherd, and was being taken care of by those neighbors, but they had told our foreman Harry that they didn't want to keep him and were looking to get rid of him. Harry told me about this and now he lives with us.

He went for a few days without a new name before we settled on Baxter. He's an indoor outdoor dog, but we have to be careful when we let him out... always on a leash. If he gets loose, he likes to go across the road into a great big field and hang out with the cows that reside there. Now you might think that this isn't all that bad, but let me tell you something... cows do not smell like fine leather as one might think. Cows smell bad. Really, really bad and when Baxter finally does come home, he brings that lovely aroma with him. So we do have to be careful.

Baxter likes to chase balls and Frisbees like Danno did and he has learned to sit and stay, but he doesn't seem to have the loyalty that Danno did from the very start. He has chew toys in the house and has a blanket on the floor in my room where he sleeps at night. He likes to wake me up in the morning by licking my feet (yikes). Guido wants nothing to do with him at all, but Guapo seems curious and is venturing closer and closer all the time. He also drinks more water than any other animal I've ever seen, which makes him very slobbery. A good companion on walks, but he doesn't like car rides which is ok too because he tends to be a little gassy, which can ruin even the best of relationships in such close quarters.

Our animals all have different personalities and are fun to watch. They have different habits and peculiarities and they really do add quite a bit to our lives. Just another trip to the fixins bar, you might say. I'm happy that you've taken the time to get to know them a little.

Until next time...

Unlimited Trips to the Fixins Bar

While I was in Texas this last weekend, I was looking around the Sabine River and enjoying the scenery and on more than one occasion I said a little prayer in my heart thanking my Heavenly Father for creating such a beautiful place. I would also from time to time look into other boats that would pass us on the water and see fathers and sons (or daughters or grandchildren) fishing as well. What struck me about these other anglers was the memories some of these parents are building for their children. Most of the adults looked like the time spent with these children was more important than catching fish, that there was something more at stake while they were on the water.

In my studies of good Bar-B Que, I have discovered that there are four basic types broken down by geographical location. There is Carolina BBQ which concentrates on pulled pork or chicken and utilizes a vinegar based sauce for basting and as a finishing sauce. Then there’s Memphis style which is very much rib oriented. There’s Kansas City BBQ which focuses on the sauce itself, (this is where the KC in “KC Masterpiece” comes from). And of course there’s Texas BBQ which is primarily beef. Being from Texas, this is by far my favorite, both to eat and cook for others.

One thing I really like about many of the BBQ joints in Texas is the “Fixins Bar.” When Sheri and I went out for BBQ in Virginia, there were very few places that served what I call Texas BBQ, and none of those places had a fixins bar. What is a fixins bar? Well, it is much like a salad bar where you would pick out your favorite salad items, but instead of lettuce and tomatoes (although a good fixins bar will have these too), a fixins bar had things like wheat and white bread slices, sliced onions, sliced pickles, pickle spears, some jalapenos – whole or sliced, extra sauce for your meat, maybe some fries or onion rings, cole slaw, potato salad, baked beans, macaroni salad, etc… you get the point. Anything to make your BBQ experience more complete and full.

I’ve always liked the idea of the fixins bar and the BBQ restaurants I seemed to enjoy the best were the ones that offered unlimited trips to the fixins bar. It just made the meal that much better, in my opinion.

I think about my life like that sometimes. The basic life sustaining ingredients are there… food, drink, sleep, breath, etc… but isn’t life supposed to be more than just living? The things in life that makes it so much better can be likened to the fixins bar, don’t you think?

Here’s what I mean. I love to fly airplanes. I was taking lessons a few years ago and was just about to take my solo flight when I was rear-ended while stopped at a stop sign in Richmond and hurt my back. My doctor told me not to fly for a few weeks and when I got to feeling better it just never happened. I didn’t go back and pick up where I left off. Other things started taking up my time and I can see my flight bag from where I’m sitting right now and I wonder “Why didn’t I go back to the fixins bar?”

That was a small missed opportunity though… not really a huge deal to me anymore. Someday I might venture out to the local airport here and take up where I left off. I still want to make that solo flight. The real tragedy to me are the missed trips to the fixins bar that stop us from progressing or keep us from experiencing life the way we are supposed to. “Adam fell that men might be; and men are that they might have joy.” We have been given this great blessing for us to enjoy, and if we don’t use it, we’ll lose it.

I see people all the time that just don’t have a clue how to be happy. All they can see in their lives are misery and pain because they’ve learned how to look for those things, and ignore all the wonderful things that are around them. They complain and mope and are convinced that they have contracted every disease and mental condition known to medical science, and they are also very proficient at blaming anyone and everyone else for their troubles. And then they sit around wasting away and wondering “Why did I get dealt this hand?” It may seem callous of me to answer “You weren’t… you dealt the hand to yourself.” It may appear that I’m uncaring or heartless when I don’t want to be around people like that. I say get yourselves to the fixins bar and make your life the way you want it. That’s what it’s there for. I'll even help if you want.

And attitude of gratitude is the key, I think. Being grateful for the things I have and the abilities I have and the challenges in life that ultimately make me stronger is how I enjoy life. I like to live with passion and to be passionate about what I do and how I do it.

While we were fishing, my brother-in-law Sam told us a story about his grandfather taking him fishing. They would fish and when grandpa hooked a fish, he would do nothing... just leave the fish on the hook in the water, and wait. He would wait until Sam needed to do something, maybe change bait, get a drink, anything that would give grandpa a chance to say "Here then, you hold my pole and I'll talk care of..." whatever it was that needed attention. Then Sam would feel a tug on the line and reel in the fish that grandpa had hooked. Sam would be so proud and grandpa would make such a fuss about the fish and both were happy. It wasn't until Sam was grown I think that he discovered what grandpa had done.

I think Sam's grandfather understood the meaning and importance of the fixins bar. Hearing Sam tell that story and how happy he was with his grandpa for doing that more than made up for the fact that I didn't catch any fish this time. The story itself was fixins.

I could eat BBQ without a single trip to the fixins bar and I could go through life without passion for anything, but life (like BBQ) is so much better when you include the little things that add that little something. We have unlimited trips available to us, if we'll only go. Minor investment, but huge rewards.

Until next time…

Fishing vs. Catching

I have just returned from Texas where I spent a couple of days with my father and brother-in-law Sam. We were in a little town up in East Texas called Carthage. A few miles away is a boat launch into the Sabine River along the Texas - Louisiana border. Dad and I went there last year when the white bass were running up river to spawn and we caught 70 in two days. We decided to go this year when the fish are running again and we took Sam with us.

When we got to the river, we found the water conditions were quite different than they were last year. There had been a lot of rain and the level of the river was higher, and it was very muddy. We had much fun on our fishing trip, but it was just that... fishing. Last year was catching and this year was fishing. Two fish. Sam caught the first and biggest of the two, and Dad caught the other one. The only fish yours truly got was a fish dinner back in Carthage in a restaurant that used to be a Golden Corral.

I was happy though that Sam caught one of the two. I had my turn last year, and will catch fish again someday. I hope Sam will go back with us. In spite of not catching fish like we did last year, we had fun. Fishing really is almost as much fun as catching.

So now I'm back in my home and filing away some of the memories for future reference. I have a couple more stories from this trip to add to my collection. It's fun for me to see new things (or to see old things in a new way), to have new experiences, to go to new places and to have these things at my disposal when I need to use them to illustrate a point or break some ice or just have something to add to a conversation. That excites me. That adds juice to my life. And there are many more things left to do while I'm here.

That being said, I have been disappointed by the number of fish caught... and I have felt on occasion cheated by love... but I have never been sorry for getting a good night's sleep.

So until next time...
Good night.