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 |  My second blog. What you get are pieces of me; my humor, my memories: be welcome. |
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MY BOOK! http://www.lulu.com/davidmac73 This picture was in the header of my first blog and I wanted to bring it back. Me and my sweetie on our wedding day....it is my favorite picture. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** This is my second Blog on WDC. The first Blog, Random Thoughts, is finished and done and I loved almost every minute I spent doing it. This blog will be somewhat different than the first because I want to use this space for my humor and my memories. The humor may sometimes fall flat and the memories may, at times be boring, but isn't that the way it is with life. Please join me here and partake in these pieces of me and if sometimes you find the jokes unfunny or the memories dull, then please come back another day and maybe you will find something to your liking. After all, like my daddy always said: "Some days you get the bear, some days the bear gets you." Thank you, vivacious   for this neat new logo for my blog! Yup, this about says it all, I think!** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** I thought that Independence Day was the appropriate day to put this great new siggy in my blog....Thank you sultry ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Please check out Scarlett's Newsletter for Bloggers: The Blogville News
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Thank you, Startiara  for this lovely Siggy!! ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| Today was a good day at work. You know, at Wal-Mart these days that doesn't happen often. Those of you who have been reading my blog for any time at all know all about the Drama which has embroiled the company over the past few months. As you may also know by reading my blog, there is a very good chance that the day after Thanksgiving which is what we call: Blitz Day, will be the day chosen for a company wide walk-out by employees. Blitz Day is the single biggest shopping day of the year for Wal-Mart and it kicks off the Big Christmas Shopping Season. What this means is that I have had to make a personal decision as to what I will do that day. If there is a walk-out do I walk or do I stay and do my job? I made my decision today and I guess that is why it was such a good day. It was as if a thousand pound weight rolled off my shoulders when I finally decided what course of action I had to take. I have always been the kind of person who frets and worries about making a decision but once it's made, I don't look back....no matter what. For me, the decision came down to a question of loyalty and allegiance. When I thought about the problem in that light, the decision was an easy one. You see, I owe absolutely no loyalty or allegiance to the Home Office in Bentonville, Ark. and all the empty suits that now run roughshod over the company. For their part they feel no loyalty to myself or any other long term employee, in fact they are doing all they can do to insure that anyone who has been with the company long enough to be vested (seven years or more) will soon be out the door and replaced with part-time, minimum-wage earners. No to these people I owe nothing but I do owe loyalty and allegiance somewhere. I owe these things to one man: Charles Hall, our store manager. Folks I have been in the retail game most of my adult life and I have worked for many, many different managers in all those years. Charles Hall is the best I have ever met. Now you have to understand one thing: Mr. Hall has been on medical leave while all this mess has been coming down on our heads. He has not been available to answer questions we may have, he has been unable to counter all the panic and uncertainty which the new rules have sown within the store. Well today he walked back in the store and it was like a breath of fresh air just seeing him make his way down the main isle. He really wasn't ready to come back and he is only supposed to be on his feet three hours a day....but he came back for us. He came back to take control and try to answer our questions. That's the kind of man he is. Yes, I owe this man my loyalty. He has gone the extra mile for many of us in the past, me included. When my mother died, two years ago I knew I was going to have to take some time to get through it before I would be able to work again. Wal-Mart has a three day "bereavement leave"...three days and you better be back at work. Charles Hall told me to take whatever time I needed...my job would be here when I got back! Yes, I owe this man my loyalty. He didn't have to do that. He also took it upon himself to leave work the day of the funeral and attend. He didn't make a big deal of it, he just came in quietly, paid his respects and left again...but I saw him...he didn't have to do that, but he did....I owe him. So the day after Thanksgiving, on Blitz Day, I will be up by three thirty in the morning, I will dress in my best, don my blue vest and be standing at my door by four thirty a.m. waiting for the crowds to hit us. I don't care if no one else decides to show up, I will be there because, in the end it is a question of Loyalty and allegiance. I owe Mr. Charles Hall both these things and I have to do what my conscience demands. Home Office can go to hell! |
| I have a number of things on my mind today. First of all....I HATE MY SERVER! I lost my dang server last night..early...then it didn't begin to work until right before I got home from work today. Mel called them this morning and got one of their Tech geeks on the phone. She explained the problem and was told: "Gee, we have been having some trouble with one of our little peices of equipment but we hope to have it working soon". A LITTLE peice of EQUIPMENT??? What's up with that? I bet my last damn dollar the "little piece of equipment" the geek was speaking of was THE DAMN ON/OFF switch on the freaking wall! Okay, so what else is on my mind? Oh yeah, I know. Am I the only person who has noticed that Dr. Phil's show has dropped a crapper load of quality of late? I mean, good lord, he is fast becomming Jerry Springer with a College degree! The only difference so far that I can see between him and Springer's show is that Dr. Phil usually choses a slightly better class of white-trash to be a guest on his show. Where Springer's guest all speak with that deep southern drawl and show obvious signs of at least a century of in-breeding, Dr. Phil's guests often come from the mid-west, the West coast and even the East coast and the whole family doesn't bear a striking resemblance to one another. Even so, they seem to have one thing in common with Springer guests...they have no qualms about airing soiled laundry in a very public forum. Now Phil has begun to administer lie-detector tests to them to get to the greatly vaunted "Truth". Like I give a rat's ass who is doing what to whom. What else is on my mind? Oh yeah..I got it...Nada's blog yesterday. Did you read her blog? She wrote very elequantly about the battle to stop smoking then she went into the whole mess as Why should I have to quit? She was conflicted as they say...somewhere. Well Nada, dear friend, I feel your pain. Like I said in my comment to you, I have cut down from two packs to a half pack a day but it has been a damn struggle and I have to think: WHY AM I PUTTING MYSELF THROUGH THIS? Do I really want to live twenty more years? Twenty years of struggle, trying to keep the demon weed outta my mouth, twenty years of yearning for that special ambrosia of the first cigarette of the morning accompanied by the first cup of hot, strong coffee....TWENTY YEARS OF DENIAL! I don't want that. I don't want to be like the majority of people...they quit. "Oh it's easy, I did it. I just threw them down and walked away". Well hip,hip, hooray! I could throw them down too and I would, except that I would look awfully silly flopping down on the ground to retrieve them ten minutes later! Look, if you quit and you love it...then I am happy for you, I really am. Also I would never put myself upon a non-smoker, I would never smoke around someone who found it objectionable. By the same token, don't try to punish me for wanting to smoke. Don't make me a second class citizen because I imbibe in the weed. The truth of the matter is...something is going to kill all of us. I got news for you: NOBODY GETS OUT ALIVE! Cancer has killed every one of my family members who have died over the past twenty five years and half of them NEVER SMOKED! So, if the big C gets me and I drop dead in the next five years...so be it. At least I will live those five years doing what makes me happy. (Mel's gonna bop me for that one) Besides, if I quit smoking, when I DO die I would have robbed my brother of his golden opportunity to say: "SEE, I TOLD YOU SO!" Lord knows I would hate to do that to Mongo. What else is on my mind? Oh yeah....I know...I'M HUNGRY. I'm gonna go make myself a peanute butter sammich! Bye. |
| I have tried three times today to write an entry dealing with the present holiday. I can't put it all into words and that is my own weakness. Let me just urge each of you to please have a quiet and peaceful Veteran's Day and at some point during the day take a moment to remember those who brought you this day. Remember the men and women who gave their lives so that all the rest of us could enjoy something we rarely think about but would certainly miss if it were gone: OUR FREEDOM! To the Men and Women of my father's generation: Thank you for what you did for all of us. |
| I have been told, many, many times that I have a somewhat different take on the world around me. Okay, I can accept that. Maybe my view of many issues are different, but they got that way through personal experiences out in the world. Take, for instance my view of children..... Kids God love em, kids are great aren't they. Personally I raised five children and I found a few inescapable truths about them along the way. A parent has to do try to accomplish some basic things during child rearing years. 1. First of all we have to resist the urge to love them too much, thus becoming over-protective of them and not letting them learn some hard lessons in life, such as: If you bite your little play-mate and he socks you in the eye then don't come running to me. You messed up when you bit the little bugger so go back and apologize! 2. We must refrain from the almost overpowering urge to strangle the kids during their teen years. When kids are teenagers they are convinced that their parents are brain-dead fools who don't have the slightest notion of what the world is all about. There is no talking to them, no reasoning with them because they already know more than you ever will so don't waste their time. Be of good cheer though because if you refrain from causing them bodily harm of a mortal variety then they will someday come to you and admit that there was a distinct possibility that you could have been right all those years ago. 3. Parents must be able to, at some future time, stand on their front porch and wave happily as their baby leaves the nest for the last time. You must be able to let go, to smile and bid them "bon chance" and happy sailing as they venture out into the great cruel world. This is the hardest thing is the world for parents to do. We constantly want to protect the offspring from the hard knocks that await them all even though, for the most part, we had no one to do that for us. For example: Johnny has his car all packed up and ready to leave home. Mom and Dad are standing on the front porch all ready to wave goodbye to him. He shakes his dad's hand and says: "Oh, by the way, dad, I am going to take the money you gave me for college and I'm investing it in a Mink farm in South Dakota and become independently wealthy within a year". You, as a parent will have to grit your teeth, smile and tell him: "That's great son, let me know how that works for you. Oh and by the way....it never worked for me". Of course Johnny totally ignores this piece of advice and goes about his merry way. A year later he shows back up at the house broke, the Mink farm has gone belly up. It is then that the father must smile and hand his son a list of fast food joints who are hiring cooks, then again wish him well as he sets out to work on his second million, since the first one didn't work out.. 4. Parents must learn to have reasonable expectations for their children. No person, not your children, not you, not your parents....nobody ever made it to complete adulthood without making some really mind-blowing mistakes along the way. Parents must learn not to expect their kids be able to sidestep mistakes they themselves have made or some mistakes even worse . Parents have to learn to accept that their kids may not all end up to be Doctors, lawyers, scientist or millionaire businessmen/women. They may never attain the lofty goals you have set for them, goals you yourself were unable to reach and that's okay. After all, its their life, not ours, they have to make of it what they want. Like it or not, kids are independent life forms and all we can do is cheer them on from the sidelines. 5. Lastly and most importantly, we as parents must remember to do one thing above all others. We must remember to always love our children. Oh we can tell them that, in our humble opinion, they are raving lunatics for doing whatever silly thing they happen to be doing, but at the same time we must tell them that it is their lives so "do what you have to do". Then, if it all goes badly we can't run in and rescue them. We can help them help them selves but only if they ask for our help and then not completely. They must learn to clean the crap off their own shoes, not wait for mommy and daddy to clean it for them. But we can always love them and if they are happy....then by God be happy with them. You know, it just occurred to me as I wrote this that one way to keep kids from making some of the same mistakes you made is to make your own life more accessible to them. When your kids are old enough to understand, share with them some of the bad choices you yourself made. Make sure they grow up knowing that life's road isn't as smoothly paved as they thought it might be after all. Case in point: When my daughter was around seventeen or so and heavily into dating, I began to worry that she was just a bit too cavalier in her attitude about sex. After all she was a beautiful girl and the boys were definitely swarming around her. One day she offered up the perfect opportunity for me to "share" with her. She was sitting in the living room with me and we were watching a movie on TV, some sappy love story she was so fond of, and out of the blue she turned to me and said: "Dad, one day when you are off work and have the time, can you show me the home you and mom lived in when I was born?" "Why on earth would you want to see that place honey?" "I think it would be cool to see the home where I was conceived," she said. "Oh, where you were conceived....well honey I'm sorry but I can't show that to you" "Why not?" "Cause that Ford went to the junk yard many years ago, that's why!" "EWWW!" She said, "You mean you guys did things like that way back then?" "Yes, honey," I retorted. "Believe it or not, sex was done much the same way as it is today, which is something you might keep in mind the next time you go out on a damn date". Years later she thanked me for telling her that story, even though she was sure I was just being a smart arse. She said it had, indeed, given her something to think about from then on when she was out on a date. She is in her early thirties now, no children yet but she is engaged to be married and has a nice career in the medical field....not a bad turn of events, even if I was being a smart arse. I try to remember every day that even though kids can break your heart sometimes, they are, in the end, worth every tear you shed. All we have to do is live long enough for our efforts to pay off....they usually do, you know. |
| I have to blame this whole mess on partyof5dj. Why? Well hell that's easy; because he is rarely around anymore and so its easy to dump on him, that's why. Actually it was his request, some time ago, for all of us to show a picture of our favorite coffee mug. Well, party...I can't do that now because my favorite coffee mug has departed to that great coffee mug heaven in the sky. Where the coffee flows in brown rivers and there are sugar and cream dispensers at every turn. My poor mug met its fate this past Monday which was the same day I had decided to take its picture for posterity. First I should tell you a bit about the big fellow so you will have some understanding as to the loss I suffered. My coffee mug was of the standard size for a "guy mug" it stood a proud five inches tall and when filled to capacity, it would hold roughly one third of a normal sized coffee pot, thus insuring me of three good cups in the mornings before I headed off to work. My mug's color scheme was unique, with blazes of red, blue, yellow and green slashes covering its manly, large surface. It looked much like Salvador Dali had thrown up on it in the factory. I think you get the picture but you must remember....Mel picked it out for me so I am not responsible for that whole color thing. Okay, now to the infamous event....or...series of unfortunate events, which led to my Mug's downfall...literally. Well there it was....Monday morning and the first unfortunate event was about to take place: Due to a physical quirk, I was forced to call in sick from work. This was unfortunate because, in my house, the universe of my dogs travels along an orderly course: Mom and Dad get up early every morning. Mom and Dad let us out to do our thing in the back yard. Mom and Dad then bring us inside and feed us. Lastly, and most importantly....when all this is done then DAD GOES TO WORK AND WE GO BACK TO BED WITH MOM! Now this last thing is like carved in stone. Surely, the dog equivalent of Moses brought this last rule down on stone tablets from some mountain top. Dad HAS to go to work. I mean, how else are all three dogs, the smallest of which is 75 pounds, going to fit on the king sized bed with Mom? Dad must go! But I didn't and when they finally realized that I was not charging out the front door with the above mentioned coffee mug in hand they all three begin to give off the very definition of: A Hang-Dog Look. You would have thought that Kibble had just been declared off limits for dogs over ten pounds or that they had just found out they had to play with the cats...they were mortified. I sit in the living room with Mel for about an hour and then my "quirk" forced me to have to head back to bed. Mel was going to stay up awhile and do some computer surfing and that confused the dogs all the more...MOM WAS STAYING UP? "What about our leisure time?" You could almost hear them whining and snotting out loud. Well it was at this point that the next unfortunate event took place. I grabbed my coffee mug and a piece of toast and I groggily headed back to my cool, inviting bedroom. This was the trigger. As confused as the dogs were by this sorry turn of events, they saw what to them was a familiar sight...SOMEBODY WAS HEADED TO THE BEDROOM....THAT MEANS IT'S TIME FOR US TO GET THE BED! A logical assumption on their part, but sadly lacking in any form of truth. I wasn't about to share my bed with a pack of dogs, not the way I felt. So I tried to go down the hall as quietly as possible. Of course it was Mollie, our caloricily challenged Black Lab.....her little head looks like it has been screwed onto a huge black marshmallow... who started the stampede. She saw me heading back down the hall, balancing coffee mug and saucer with toast on it in my hands and she came out from under the desk churning up the rug at full steam. I gotta tell you, she can move fast for a fat girl! She was closely followed by Sherman. By now most of you are familiar with Sherman, or Bloodhound/Yellow Lab mix. If I had to liken Sherman's personality to a show biz character I would have to say he is like a dog answer to Jethro on the Beverly Hillbillies. You guys remember him don't you...big, dumb and completely oversexed. That's Sherman. You see, we have not yet had Sherman fixed and, well, let's just say he is proud of what he has.....he doesn't have a clue how to use it but by God he is proud of it. As a result of this raging hormone problem he won't let Mollie alone. Of course Mollie was long ago "fixed" so she has neither the time nor the patience to bother with Sherman's juvenile and bungling advances. She will usually just take it for so long then she will put him down with a snap and a growl. So, unfortunately Sherman is reduced to following her around all the time like a real "little lost puppy". Gawd I can relate, I remember my own teen years. All this set the stage for the next unfortunate event.....Sherman bounding along beside Mollie as he headed full steam down the hall to catch up to me who is tottering along like a nerve damaged water buffalo, vainly headed to my bed. I almost made it. The next and the last unfortunate event took place. I had to stop and juggle my load while trying to open my bedroom door...it took time...way too much time and as a result, I was lost! Just as I got the door open and as I stepped across the threshold, Mollie came barreling past me...or almost past me. Due to her Rubenisque girth, she was unable to fit through the door at the same time as me so as a result she struck my right leg with much the same force as a small SUV striking a crossing guard in an intersection in front of a school. Of course I was over balanced and the objects in my hands began a crazy dance in their effort to defy gravity. I had just about pulled off the required compensation of muscle and foot work to save the day when the second missile struck me. Sherman, bounding after his forever unreachable girl friend struck my left leg! The toast, the saucer and my beloved mug finally gave up their gravity-defying dance and became totally airborne....so did I. Fortunately I landed on the bed. UNFORTUNATELY the FULL coffee mug landed first on my chest, then onto the floor where it exploded like "Fat Man" on Hiroshima. It was followed in quick succession by Mr. Toast and Mr. Saucer. The saucer survived but the toast had the great misfortune to land at the feet of a very startled Sherman...it lasted on giant gulp and it was gone to doggy stomach hell. I lay on the bed for one stunned moment, trying to get my bearings. My chest was turning a nice shade of red from the lake of hot coffee which was pooling in my belly button as I stared with disbelief at the ceiling....how did that get there? Then the pain of the hot coffee registered and I let out a blood curdling scream. Both dogs pivoted and ran from the bedroom. They both ended up quivering at Mel's feet. They both looked up at her as if to say: "Hey, its not our fault. Whey did you let HIM in the bedroom anyway?" I spent the next hour inventing new curse words to describe DOGS and they, in turn, spent the next five hours outside! So you see, all these unfortunate events...starting with Party wanting a picture...ended up with the demise of my damn Mug. IT'S PARTY'S FAULT! |
| My buddy, PlannerDan wrote very eloquently today about voting. Of course I agree with everything he wrote in his blog and it even moved me to write my own thoughts on this most important of American endeavors. Yes, we vote and yes, we choose our representives to our nation's government. We choose our Senators, our Congressmen and our President on the national level and we also pick who will lead us on a state level. Hell we even pick the mayor and city councleman/woman who will guide each of our cities and towns...yup, we are voting fools, that's for sure. The thing is, many times folks in this country vote merely the Party. "Oh the Republicans suck bog water, so I'm voting for Democrats this time." Or "Oh my God, those Democrats are horrible, I'm voting Republican this year". Now I have been voting ever since I was 21 years old and I have always heeded the advice of my Father. He told me, before I cast my very first vote: "Boy, vote the man and not the party. Never tie yourself to any one party but find the best man for the job, just like you would if you were thinking on hiring them yourself". I have always done this. Many times I find Democrats I have agreed with and wanted to see get the job and many times the man I picked was of the Republican persuasion. The thing is Republicans and Democrats alike will try to convince you that theirs is the only party with the vision to lead the country, the state or the city. Many times, sadly enough, they manage to convince enough people to follow their party even when common sense would say otherwise. Once elected, these Party men begin at once to look toward the NEXT election. Their most important mandate is to keep their party in power. Working together with people of the opposite party goes out the window because they can only parrot their own party line. Which is why I love Independent candidates. They rarely win, but God I do love them. Usually you will find a breath of sanity and common sense interjected by these folks who are not a slave to any one party or the other. Our boy, Kinky Friedman, who is running for governor of Texas is fond of saying: "A politican is someone who is only worried about the next election but a Statesman is worried about the next Generation". There is a lot of truth to that statement. Sadly, though I really can't see an Indie like Kinky winning a major office like the Governorship of Texas, just too much money and Party politics in the way. Now let me go out on a limb here and make a forcast. I believe the Democrats will win big in this election; both in the House and the Senate on the national level and the state level. In two years they will ride this wave and win the White House. Why? Well that's easy. The Republicans have been in power for a couple of elections now and people are tired of the Republican party. They see everything that is wrong with the country as being the fault of the Republicans...after all they were in power weren't they? So we will end up with a Democratic President along with a majority in both the House and Senate. Then after four years, when the democrats tell us that they haven't had enough time to undo all the problems the Republicans caused, we will give them four more years. At the end of the second four year period, when very little has changed, the Republicans will rise up and scream: "SEE, WE TOLD YOU SO! VOTE FOR US AND WE WILL FIX UP THE MESS THE DEMOCRATS MADE!" Then, of course we will run to sweep out the democrats and bring in the Republicans.....on and on..... Now you understand why I love indies? I will vote for them every time. ********************* I would like to close with a question. Would any of you who knows what BDOC stands for on this site please drop me an email and let me know? Is this some kind of neferious group or sumptin? Just curious. |
| Two thirty P.M on a grey, dreary, Monday afternoon and I sit here at the computer and watch the rain drum against the window over my desk. It is as if the rain has driven everyone out of WDC for the moment. I make my way from blog to blog and all I hear is the loud echo of my own footsteps. The few of my favorites who have managed to add an entry today have few comments in their box. Makes me wonder where everyone has gotten off to. Was there a party whose invatation I missed? The interactive has been inactive for over 16 hours now and that is unheard of. Yes, the streets of my favorite part of this cyber-town we call Blogville is quiet now and it leaves me at a loss. The rain presists, its falling in buckets now with no sign of let up in the near future. As the same rain lashes the quiet streets of Blogville I wonder....is anyone else feeling the same dreary oppresive blanket wrapping around them as I do. I didn't go to work today, maybe that's part of the problem. Usually when I spend eight hours coping with the busy work-a-day world all the bad stuff is kept at arm's length. Couldn't be helped though, a phyical quirk caused me to believe I would never make it through the day so I just called in. You know, it just occurred to me that it would be a restful change of pace if I could just sit on my ass and wait for the government to give me everything I need to live. No more worrying about the future, just live in the moment and have plenty to gripe about when they weren't really prompt in supplying all my needs and wants. The problem with that is that I just never have learned how to not fight for what I want. The struggle to gain and keep what my family needs to live is not something that I am equipped to turn over to anyone else. When my mind dwells on things like this I usually am reminded of a great herd of water buffalo on those great African plains. They continually make their way from point A to point B, living their lives by the natural rules their ancestors did. They care for their young and find food to live. From time to time the herd is stalked by a pride of lions and when they take down a sick, weak or old member of the herd the rest of the herd keeps moving...doing what they must. How is that so different from humans? I am sure that when it is my turn, some lion of circumstance will take me down....the herd will keep moving and life will continue. When I picture this it somehow comforts me. I know that no matter what happens, life goes on and the world continues on its appointed path....good to know, somehow. Tor stands for a moment longer on the sidewalk in front of his Blogville storefront watching the rain lash the deserted street then, with a sigh he turns and goes back through his door and leaves a small light burning in the window to show some other weary traveler that there is indeed life here in Blogville today. |
| Thursday, after coming home from work I checked into the WakeupWalmart web site and discovered that there was going to be a nation wide conference call happening that evening at seven P.M. my time. The call was to include labor and civil rights leaders and any wal-mart assocates who wanted to participate. Of course I had to check this out....glad I did. One of the more interesting facts I found out during this call had to do with a future "flight" which is what Wal-Mart calls its new rules that they keep throwing at us. This future flight is due on Jan. 1 and I am afraid this will spell the end for many of us in the company. The new policy they intend on springing upon us is a simple one...as of that date, the company plans on doing away with thier Profit Sharing Plan! They will offer everyone with 15 years or more a severance plan but everyone else will simply lose all their profit sharing. I was stunned. That plan was what I was counting on to be able to retire from the company. Now when I do leave it will be with nothing. That means that to date, I have wasted eight years of my life with this company. It also means that barring the off chance of winning the lottery, I will be forced to work hard for a paycheck for the rest of my life...now that's a cheery thought. There is an group called Wal-Mart Workers of America which has formed to combat these changes and they are about 250,000 strong right now. They plan on sending a letter to Lee Scott, the CEO of Wal-Mart demanding the recending of these punitive policies on Thanksgiving Day. There is another national conference call scheduled to let us know Mr. Scott's answer to the letter. If he refuses, then there is a good chance that there will be a massive walk-out by workers throughout the chain. Now I have to decide whether or not I will join this walk-out. If the policies are not recended then I have nothing to lose by a walk-out...I'm going to lose my retirement anyway on the first of the year. I don't know what I will do. I have never been a fan of walking off the job. I have always believed that you worked, not walk off; I have never been a member of a union or had any experience with union-like tactics. All this has been weighing heavily on my mind of late. It really is ironic that now, just when I have found the love of my life and have a reason to want a retirement in which to enjoy time with her, I will probably have it taken away....LOL...sometimes life can suck bog water, but what can you do. I will just take it as it comes and ride the waves, trying to keep my head above water. |
| Here it is almost seven o'clock in the evening and I have not done a blog entry yet. Actually, since Mel went to work, I have pretty much stayed in bed...been one of those days. I only just realized how late it was when Mel called from work as she usally does. Each night she will call about the same time; on her dinner break, and she has me read my blog to her....she is my best critic. Well after hanging up from our talk, I figured I better try one more time to get a blog done. My mind has been so scattered today, I just can't seem to latch upon one topic to write about. My enegery level seems to be really low, maybe that's why I can't write. I will tell you, I guess, about two things that really moved me this past week. First was a new book I bought: "For One More Day", the newest book by Mitch Albom. Anyone who has not yet read this book....please, go get it at the earliest opportunity, you will not be dissappointed. It is the story of a man who, having reached rock-bottom in his life, decides to go back home and kill himself. Instead he recieves a gift, he is granted one more day with his long dead mother to say the things he never did when she was alive. It is a touching story and I warn you, at the end you better have a box of kleenex on hand. Have you ever thought about that...if you had the opportunity to have one more day with a loved one, who would it be? What would you say....very interesting idea. The second thing I wanted to tell you about is some new music....well new to me at least. zwisis was kind enough to send me two CD's. One was music by Steeleye Span and the other was by Johnny Clegg. Steeleye Span was good but the music of Johnny Clegg was wonderful. His music is the music of Africa. Its haunting melodies reach right into your soul and grabs hold of you. The Clegg CD now has taken its place in the list of five favorite CD's I always put on to play while I write....it's that good. Oh and Forever also sent me one of those "Evil Eye" things you hang on your door and also an Evil Eye key chain...I am hoping it works well enough to kee CC away...Now that will be a real test of the talisman! Okay, no matter how hard I try, this entry just keeps sliding into sucky so I'm gonna close out now and go back to bed...you guys have a good week-end. |
| A curious observation here: If you kill George Clooney all the women get very, very quiet. If you kill George Clooney AFTER putting him into a scene where he is dancing with a male dance instructor, the women get even quieter....go figure! For those of you who have no idea what I am talking about, you have to go check out Nada's interactive monster:
Yesterday, when I came home from work there were 11 chapters which had been written in my absence. So, last night I went crazy and killed George and today when I came home from work there was only one chapter waiting for me...from CC and though I haven't read it yet, he is probably crying and snotting and proclaiming his innocence...He killed George in the story or so it seems! Now, on to the blog for today....I had every intention of writing something light and funny, something of my own creation. That was all changed when I walked through the door and saw post-it notes attached to my computer screen. That can mean only one thing...Mel has found something interesting she wants me to view or listen to. So of course I clicked on the page and I then spent the next ten minutes or so laughing my arse off!! So here is the "funny" part of my blog today. Click on this link, give it time to load...its long and when you start listening to it the first couple of minutes are a bit boring but I promise you....You will laugh your butt off when the story gets going. http://www.indianpad.com/story/15119 LOL! After you listen to this come back and tell me what you think about poor Raj and his discovery of "American Love". |
| Let me just begin this blog entry by saying that I am well aware that the majority of the WDC membership is female. You can understand then that it is with some trepidation that I attempt to expound upon my chosen subject today. Having said that, I see nothing for it but to forge ahead with my well thought out treatise. WOMEN ARE JUST WRONG-HEADED SOMETIMES I am in the midst of what has amounted to an undeclared war in my house. I mean, what else can I call it but a war. Mel just refuses to see reason and as a result she continues to cook as if she is still NORTH OF THE MASON-DIXON LINE! Okay, here's the deal....I love a good pot of chili, what self-respecting Texas boy don't like a steaming hot bowl of chili now and again. The problem with this is that for five years I have been struggling in an effort to educate my dear, Yankee wife what constitutes an acceptable pot of chili here in the damn chili capital of the entire free world. You see, being a dyed-in-wool Yankee girl, Mel can't get it through her head that chili should be made WITHOUT BEANS! No Texan worth his/her salt will ever be caught dead putting beans in chili....it just ain't done! Unfortunately, to Mel it just isn't chili without some dang beans cooked in the mix and not just any bean mind you....oh no, she has to put in KIDNEY BEANS! Now I ask you, who ever heard of such a silly thing and a kidney bean to boot. I mean, if you are so wrong headed as to have beans in your chili (thus making it "not-chili") at least have the decency to use some good ole Pinto beans....NOT KIDNEY BEANS...good lord, those are even Yankee beans for God's sake. Anyway, yesterday I came home from work and hear the dreaded words that signaled the commencement of open hostilities again: "Honey, I made a pot of Chili for supper". "Oh Lord," I muttered under my breath as I headed to the kitchen to survey the battleground first hand. Sure enough, there it was sitting on the stove and simmering....a pot of what I like to refer to as Bean Soup with Meat and Seasonings....Mel calls it chili...so the battle began in earnest. "The bean soup looks like its about done, honey," I called innocently. "IT'S NOT BEAN SOUP," she yelled back at me from the living room where she was watching a warthog scratch his arse on a log. "IT'S CHILI!" "Maybe in Yankee-Land its chili," I retort, "but here its just bean soup". "Well whoever heard of chili without beans?" "Only the ENTIRE POPULATION OF TEXAS, that's who". "That's the way my mom taught me to make it!" Now that was her low-shot. She knows I love her mom to death and I would rather rip my tongue out than criticize that sweet lady. "Well of course your mom would make that for a bunch of Yankees, I mean you can't blame her, she never got the opportunity to make REAL chili before...FOR TEXANS!" "If you don't like it, don't eat it", she sniffed with that little hurt, catch in her voice....oh yeah, now she's pulling out the guilt guns to blast me with. "Don't go there, I'll eat the dang Sou...uh I mean...chili. Here, see, I'm getting a bowl full now....MOTHER OF GOD...YOU USED KIDNEY BEANS AGAIN!" Well the battle ended once again with her being no nearer to surrendering to good sense and making chili the Texas way and with me, once again trying to eat chili while picking out the dang beans. This is just one example of how "Wrong headed" a woman can be. She can not see when she is fighting on the wrong side of an issue. The sad part of this is that one day, many years in the future, I am probably going to find myself in the position of eating REAL Texas chili and I am afraid that by that time I will be so brainwashed by my sweet little Yankee wife, I will take one bite and yell: "Ewww, there's no beans in this chili!" What a sad commentary on the depths to which a "wrong-headed" woman can bring a poor Texas boy to. |
| That blinking, black, bar on the right of a blank, white screen in "Windows". Is there anything more intimidating than that? I have sat here for days trying to overcome the blank screen and nothing happens and I have to wonder why? Maybe the problem is that I try to keep my blog free from a lot of drama and angst. Instead I make more light-hearted entries or entries about memories, maybe that's the problem. I have not really felt all that light-hearted or memory-prone these past few days and when I try to force it, then nothing comes out and I am left staring at that damn, stupid, blinking black bar on a blank screen. Maybe if I rename my blog that might help. After all, the title: Pieces of Me, seems to insinuate that what the reader gets are pieces of my mind, my thoughts, my personality captured within the borders of the blog. But if I am always telling funny stories or relating warm memories then that is not a true representation of the real "Me"....pieces or not. Maybe too, I should start another, separate journal that deals with all the heavy crap, thus freeing up this space for something a bit more palatable to readers as a whole. I may have to give that some thought. At any rate, I seem to have blackened up this once blank page with words and that is definitely an improvement over the past few days. This will, I hope help my stats. It is weird to open the stat page and find that my old Blog "Random Thoughts" has 30 views for the day and the one I am doing now has only 10. Hell I finished the old blog two months ago and it still gets hits...wassup with that? All I can say is....Thank God for the AfricaCam! These past few days, while I have struggled to come up with a blog topic that didn't suck bog water, I have been able to spend a lot of time watching the wildlife of Africa troop through that watering hole and it has been a wonderful experience. If I had a laptop that sucker would stay on all night in my bedroom so I could not only go to sleep by the magical sounds of Africa, but I could also wake up to them in the morning. Watching this site has re-ignited a long dormant urge of mine to visit the Dark Continent as it was once called. I think I will leave you with my 5 all time favorite movies set in Africa. Here they are in no particular order.... 1. Tears of the Sun....with Bruce Willis. 2. Zulu..... With Michael Caine 3. Out of Africa....with Robert Redford, Merle Streep 4. King Solomon's Mine....with Stewart Granger 5. Zulu Dawn....with Burt Lancaster |
| I had a very serious blog all ready to go today. I had spent most of the first part of the work day going over the content of said blog in my head, refining it, sharpening up the wording and stuff...it was ready to go. That was at 1:30 in the afternoon. By two o'clock that blog had been blown away by a truly bizarre event that happened at my door. As a door greeter at Wal-Mart, a large portion of my job is in the area of Loss Prevention...catching thieves or when the door alarm goes off, checking packages to make sure that whatever set the alarm off was on the reciept and then deactivate it. Well there I was, about 1:45 in the afternoon, minding my own business, on the down hill side of the day and just chilling.... That was when I noticed this Bubba walking toward the door. He was in his early twenties, short hair and beard, wearing dirty oversized pants and shirt. I think he must have had a total of five teeth in his whole head and he was walking a little stooped over, his hands clutched to the front of his pants. Alarm bells started going off in my head. Besides the fact that this guy looked like one of the local extras hired for the movie: Deliverance (You gotta think "Dueling Banjos and 'Squeal like a pig' here folks), but the way he was clutching the front of his pants just wasn't natural. I watched him closely as he walked past me, trying very hard not to make eye contact with me. He moved toward the door and, of course, as he went through the exterior sensors the alarms started going crazy! As soon as the alarms started sounding I moved toward the guy and he took off in a seriously strange gait out the second set of doors and into the parking lot. Well I followed him outside and as he was headed across the parking lot, I figured: What the hell, I might as well try a bluff. I say bluff because we are no longer allowed to chase a thief, but if they stop on their own....WE GOT EM! So I tried my bluff: "STOP!" I yelled in my best drill sergeant voice. "GET BACK OVER HERE!" I yelled again and motioned him to come back to me. To my amazement, the idiot not only stopped and stared at me with this dumb, deer-in-the-headlights look, but he started to shuffle sullenly back to where I stood! Any thief worth his salt would have been half way out of town by then, but not this genius. You see, everyone knows, especially the thieves, that Wal-Mart employees are not allowed to pursue shoplifters out of the store anymore. So once they make it out the door they run like hell and don't look back. Apparently this backwoods answer to the missing link had not read that particular memo from the Thieves home office. Okay, now I had the turkey on the sidewalk so I figured....what the hell, I might as well just see how really stupid this ole boy is so I told him: "You set my door alarm off so get your ass back inside there and let's see if we can figure out what's going on". By now a crowd of rather amused onlookers had gathered to watch the show. Most of them were trying vainly to hide grins as they watched a rather dejected hillbilly trudge along side of the old guy who had a firm grasp on his arm. We entered the foyer and I instructed him to proceed onward and walk back through the inside doors where the sensors stand. He did so, head hanging, hands grasped tightly to the front of his baggy pants. The alarm sounded again as soon as he walked through. He turned around and just looked at me stupidly. I sighed....he was not going to make this easy. The crowd had followed us inside and I noticed a few were exchanging money...bets were being placed. "Well Bubba," I said. "It would seem that SOMETHING in your pants is sitting off my alarm so let's have it: Whatever you got in those pants, get it out and hand it to me!" When I said this there was a couple of giggles from the women in the crowd and I decided that I definitely could have phrased that a bit better. No telling what this dufus was going to pull out of those things. Well too late, I just went with the flow. He slowly reached into his pants and I figured he was going to come out with maybe a DVD or a CD...something small. Nooooo, this idiot pulls out a Black & Decker cordless drill that weighted about five pounds!!! It was huge! It was then that the truth finally hit me. It was not my stern voice or my steely demeanor which had cowed the would be thief into submission and caused him not to run away. No, it was the fact that he was scared to death to try to run with five pounds of metal drill clutched to his crotch. Had he fallen....well you get the picture. I snatched the drill from his hand and walked back into the store to stand next to him. I told him to just keep still, I would have to call management to take care of the rest of his problem. I then turned my back on him and tried to get the attention of one of our managers who have an uncanny ability to become instantly invisible, blind, deaf and dumb whenever they think they may have to deal with either a shoplifter or any angry shopper. Well as I was trying to wave down an asst. manager and my back was to the culprit, the dim five watt light bulb which resided in his thick skull must have burst into a brilliant pin-point of light and he suddenly became inspired with an idea. HE FINALLY BOLTED AND RAN OUT OF THE STORE...EMPTY HANDED. He hadn't made it more than a few feet when I yelled at him: "STOP! Don't make me chase you, I'm old and I'm pissed off so I will hurt you if I do catch up to you!" I almost fell over laughing when he stopped again! The moron couldn't tell I was bluffing! He stood still for a minute and I started back into the foyer to retrieve him once again when he finally made the big leap of faith....HE STARTED RUNNING AGAIN! A couple of onlookers made as if to stop him and I told them to let him go. I had the merchandise back safe...if smelly and besides, I figured as dim as this puppy was he had probably forgotten where he had parked the getaway car. Of course, five seconds after the guy clears the outside door on his great escape, three managers and assorted other employees converge on my position. The managers all assuring me that they had moved heaven and earth to get there on time...Drat the luck! It really didn't matter because by this time everyone in the store who had witnessed the debacle was in tears from laughing. It really was about the funniest thing to have happened in a long time. Now, the next day, I am still getting employees calling out to me from a distance: "HEY YOU, WHAT'S IN YOUR PANTS?" Then collapsing into gales of laughter. Some comedian in the break room came up with a great title for the whole mess: THE BLACK AND DECKER PECKER WRECKER CAPER! Oh yeah, I work with some really funny guys.....the jerks! |
| Well I was almost through with today's blog when I got this email from scarlett_o_h letting me know that this month's edition of The Blogville News was now ready! She also informed me that I had won BLOGGER OF THE MONTH! (THUD) After I picked myself up off the floor, the first thing I did was scrap today's blog entry to address this late breaking news. First off, let me just say that Scarlett has hit a homerun her first time up to the plate! She has made changes in the newsletter, made it better and all the articles were fantastic. I know now, as I knew a month ago, I could not have chosen any better person to take the helm of the Newsletter than Scarlett. She has done a masterful job as have all those who contributed articles this month. "Invalid Entry"  EVERYONE PLEASE GO READ THIS AS SOON AS POSSIBLE AND SEND EACH OF THE COLUMNIST A "WELL DONE"!Now, to address the matter of my winning Blogger of the Month....I have never felt deserving of any award. I have always seen myself as someone who merely is learning how Real writers write by reading the blog page. The idea that more than one person voted for me just boggles my mind and makes me feel very, very humble. I am, at best, just a country boy who loves to tell stories. That you fine folks saw fit to give me this award just really chokes me up...seriously, as I write this I am really close to tears. Thank you. That is a totally inadaquate phrase, but its all I have. From the bottom of my heart...thank each and every one of you for this award and I promise to try to make my blog better each day, for each of you. NOW GO READ THE NEWSLETTER! |
| I was going to tell you a heartwarming story today. The story of Skidboot and his human companion; David Heartwig . But then I got to thinking about it and I decided that the old saying was right in this case: "A picture is worth a thousand words". In this case its true because I don't think I could have done Skidboot and David justice with just my poor words. So here is the link to their story, it takes awhile to load and it is a video about 8min. long. Give it time to load then sit back and enjoy the story of a good ole Texas Cowboy and his dog....Skidboot. I promise you that you will love it. http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=5249518974978628334&pr=goog-sl After you're done, drop back by and let me know what you thought of it. Thank you. |
| I felt moved today to disagree with my good buddy PlannerDan . Those of you who have followed his blog of late will know what a fan he is of Ceasar Milan, the self-styled Dog Whisperer. Well I have to disagree with Dan's accessment of Mr. Milan and his so called talent. Now Dan, before you get your stealthman suit in a wad, let me explain. It could be that what the man does will work on SOME dogs....just not mine. His whole theory of dog handling stems from exercise and something called: The Calm, Submissive State. His answer to all problems with your pet is to take them on long walks then place them in this so-called calm-submissive state of mind with you as the leader of their pack....yeah, right! My three dogs don't even like it when I turn this guy's show on the TV. Let me backtrack here for a moment and tell those of you not familiar with my pets, something about them. Mel and I have three dogs. Mollie, who is a black lab, is the self-appointed Queen of the home. She is older than the other two dogs and she has claimed the top spot in the pecking order by virtue of her age and her obvious girth. You see, Mollie is what might be referred to as "Big and Beautiful", she is a rotund diva who doesn't mind throwing her considerable weight around to get what she wants, which is usually another doggy treat. Mollie looks like a black beachball with feet, but please don't ever point out her weight issues around her...she's sensitive. Next we have Rocky, our GSD teenager. Rocky too has issues. He demands attention because, in his eyes, he is so much better than the other two "mongrels". He, after all, has papers and a bloodline going back many generations. I like to call him our "little prince". Rocky firmly believes that any hands visible should be busy petting him and not the other two "commoners" Then there's Sherman....what can I tell you, Sherman has wormed his way into the "favorite" spot in my heart. He is a man's dog of the first order. Even as I write this, he is over on the couch, laying on his back with his legs splayed apart and sound asleep....his normal Saturday afternoon passtime. This is one of the many reasons this Lab/bloodhoud mix is the perfect "man's dog": He acts just like us guys in almost every aspect and it drives Mel to distraction. Sherman is just a big ole happy-go-lucky galoot who is always ready to either play, eat, or sleep; anything else is just not worth the effort to him. Mel, who has trained many different kinds of dogs, has met her match with Sherman. She will try to get him to sit, stay or roll over and he just stands there looking at her as if to say: "You're kidding, right". See what I mean...Sherman is the perfect "guy dog". Okay, now I have reintroduced you to my "pack". So here is the problem....They hate the Dog Whisperer because he advocates two things that are foreign to their very nature: Exercise and Human Dominance. Mollie firmly believes that Exercise is a form of torture invented by humans solely for the purpose of cutting down on her snack time and the whole Calm-Submissive state is better practiced by humans so that they are always ready to throw her a doggy bone. Rocky, on the other hand, has nothing against exercise. In fact, he is all for it...as long as it's the OTHER dogs doing it and not him. The way Rocky sees it, exercise should be used as a tool to keep the "riff-raff" occupied thus giving his royal self more petting time. Sherman doesn't mind exercise as long as it doesn't interfere with his couch time. Oh and if the exercise entails chasing a cute little female, well he is always up for that...to a point. In fact, when I turn on the TV to the show; The Dog Whisperer, all three dogs will leave the room. When I turn the dogs loose in the back yard, in an effort to give them their exercise like Ceasar Milan suggests it usually doesn't work well. Rocky walks out and sits next to the wire fence so that passing motorist can admire his regal bearing. Sherman will walk into the back yard, pick out a nice patch of dirt or a hole he has dug out and plop down for a nap. Mollie heads back to where Mel has strung her bird feeders and spend the next half hour trying to overturn the feeder and steal the bird food. The thing is, they don't mind this excursion into the outdoors because they know that in their absence, I will so enjoy the peace and quiet of the dogless house that I will become more "calm-submissive" and when they come back in, I will be more free and giving with the doggy treats.....they have me trained. So Dan, you see that the Dog Whisperer's little mind games might work on those California, queche-eating puppies but iffin he ever strays down this way, these dogs will send HIM to school. |
| There is more than one war going on in America today. Though everyone knows about our war on terrorism, very few are aware of the other, more shadowy conflict which is going on right here in our own country. The war I write about today is Wal-Mart's war which the company is waging against it's own employees. This is not the same company Mr. Sam Walton founded. Indeed, I believe that Mr. Sam would not even recognize what Wal-Mart has become since his death. You see, when Mr. Sam was alive an employee could be assured that their well being was high on the list of corporate priorities within Wal-Mart, that was the kind of man Sam Walton was. Any employee who had a problem that was not being addressed by his manager always knew that all he had to do was to pick up the phone and he or she could have access to the President of the company and Sam Walton would really listen. Today all that has gone the way of the dinosaur. Today the company is run by corporate empty suits in Bentonville and the entire Walton family is completely out of the day to day operation of the company. Today it is all about the bottom line...the profit/loss statement. Employees of Wal-Mart now find themselves being devalued to the point of being merely interchangeable cogs in the wheels of the biggest retail operation in the world. To the empty suits that rule the company today, the employees are to be used then discarded with no thought nor loyalty from management. A couple of years ago, after the Walton family stepped down from the running of the company, there was a corporate decision made to "streamline" the company. It was decided that the company would realize more profit and therefore the stock would rise, if they could find some way to cut back on the number of full-time employees and employees who had been with the company for seven years or more then replace them with part-time, minimum wage workers, workers they would not have to pay any benefits to. To accomplish this task they used their own company Pit Bull by the name of Susan Chambers. Ms. Chambers circulated a memo to the upper management in which she outlined her plans for getting rid of anyone who had been with the company at least seven years. She also wanted to get rid of the older employees and the overweight employees because she felt they would cost the company money in increased insurance claims and missed time at work. She stated that long time employees, who had worked their way up the pay ladder could easily be replaced by part-time workers for half the money and no benefits. This memo was leaked to the press and reprinted by, among others, The New York Times. Wal-Mart's response: It was untrue and besides, it was taken out of context. Then they promoted Ms. Chambers to head of Personnel for the entire company. As of this writing, she is busy at work instituting punitive new company policies aimed at fulfilling all the points she had outlined in her memo. The employees targeted by these new rules have no recourse. There is no union, of course and the "Open Door Policy" which for years has been the company's answer to the union, is just a sham, an illusion which does not exist any longer. The Open Door Policy was started by Mr. Walton when he founded the company. It in effect states that any time anyone has a problem with anything to do with the company and the work conditions has the right to come to management directly and voice his or her concerns. If the manager of that store does not act then the employee has the right to go over his head to the district manager then to the regional....right up the top office of the company with no reprisals coming for their actions. Today, though, these new harsh rules come down the store level in what they call "flights". After the arrival or just before the arrival of these "flights" the manager gathers together all the employees and explains the new rules and that's the end of it. Like it or leave. The Open Door has definitely slammed shut for good. "Never take a knife to a gunfight". That was advice given me years ago and it certainly applies with this new war I find myself involved with. Wal-Mart has declared war on me and every other long time employee of the company and to this war they bring the full power of the largest retailer in the nation and one of the richest companies in the world. What they can't tie up in court, they can buy off...this is the way of the corporate world. What kind of resources do the effected employees have? I have personally always hated the idea of Unions. Maybe it is just my stubborn, Texas independence that makes me rebel against paying someone and giving them the right to tell me when I can work and when I can't, after all Texas is still a right to work state and mistrust of Unions run deep in this part of the country. But what choice do we have? Is it better to go up against this giant company alone, with no national resources or to accept the aid of a large Union to speak for us. Without help we are truly "taking a knife to a gunfight". A nation wide walk-out has been openly discussed of late On many web-sites people are putting forth the idea of having a nationwide walk-out on "Blitz" Day. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Blitz, it is the name given to the day after Thanksgiving when Wal-Mart puts on a company wide giant sell which marks the beginning of the Christmas buying season each year. This is the single biggest shopping day in the entire year for Wal-Mart stores. A walk-out on that day, if it were to happen, would be devastating to the company. Sounds good doesn't it? Well there are problems with that strategy. Without the backing of a major Union I am afraid all it would accomplish is to play right into the hands of the empty suits that run the company now. Yes, it would hurt them, but then all they would do is fire everyone who walked out and hire all new personal AT MINIMUM WAGES and the war will be over before it begins, so to speak. On the plus side, this move will definitely cost Wal-Mart millions in lost sales and it just might be enough to send a wake-up call to the empty suits now in charge of the company. The question is, it worth the price that many may have to pay. I guess, in the end, we will just have to wait and see what happens. I guess that if any of you happen to go to your local Wal-Mart store on the day after Thanksgiving and find the business closed and locked, you will know that the battle has been joined and the war is well and truly raging. for those who want to know more about Wal-Mart and what is happening now, here is a good site to check out. http://www.wakeupwalmart.com/ |
| For your reading enjoyment today I thought I would tell you another story from my misspent youth, the story of Mr. Jack, the Original Trend Setter of Lake Livingston. We've all seen them on our Television, in slick magazines and even in person, from time to time. I am speaking of the Trend Setters, those rich or powerful or just popular people who are plastered all over the media and whose lives we sometimes find ourselves trying to emulate. I know you have all seen them before; They were the first to wear the hip hugging jeans then all the girls rushed to buy a pair.....those people, the ones who merely have to mention something being "cool" for the rest of us to rush about and try to copy them. Well today, in the break room, I caught a snippet of conversation about these people who set trends and for some reason it brought to mind Mr. Jack Shanly and the time he became one of those Trend Setters around Lake Livingston. I guess it was in the very early 70’s; Lake Livingston had just managed to fill up enough to support full scale fishing and my dad was one of the first guides on the lake. I was home from the service and had landed a job at a local marina on the lake making the princely sum of $1.00 an hour as a handyman. Well dad was quite successful with his guiding business and he had more clients than he could handle most weekends so he offered me all his excess business. I could not believe my good fortune, all I had to do was spend about a six hour day cruising around the lake and putting rich fishermen onto places where they could catch large Black Bass. And for that I got a whooping $50.00 a day AND tips. I WAS RICH!! I was making more in five days than I could make in a month as a handyman. I was definitely living large. Back then there was probably not more than five guides on the whole lake and we are talking 84,000 acres of water here, not some pond. We were a proud group of very macho guys who guarded their personal, secret “sweet spots” where we had big bass sighted, like they were state secrets. We all went around dressed very macho too....Matching safari style shirts and khaki pants, the shirts covered in different outdoor tackle logos to the extent we looked like Nascar drivers of today. Tackle companies would give us free rods and reels so that we could field test them for them and, of course, send back favorable reports they could use in their advertising. Companies who made artificial baits were always lining up to do the same thing. Each of us had multiple tackle boxes with every kind of bait known to man in them.....most of which we never used, but we always had our picture taken holding a large bass and a rod with one of those weird baits attached...as if that is what we used to make the catch. HEY! It got us free baits didn’t it! Anyway, as a group I guess we were pretty obnoxious. We swaggered about the different marinas, we had people who watched for us to launch our boat, then try to follow us to see where we were catching fish...WE WERE DA MEN! Then there was Mr. Jack. Mr. Jack Shanly entered the realm of the Professional Guides almost by accident. He was an elderly man, probably in his early seventies back then and he happened to own a pontoon boat. Those are large, square, slow-moving affairs built for folks to tinker about the lake in with their whole families. You would see them from time to time, laden down with eight or ten grown-ups and four or five snot-nosed kids, hugging the backwaters and the shorelines with their cane poles and cans of worms, catching perch. Of course us professionals looked down our collective noses at these amateur types, we got the big bucks. We had three-seater bass boats that went like a bat out of hell and WE tore up the lake, darting back and forth to our secret holes, stalking the big, elusive black bass. Well one day, around lunch time a bunch of us guides had gathered at one of the Marinas with our clients to take a noon-time break and get some lunch at the cafe. Mr. Shanly was there, dressed in his old overalls, with his straw hat...the very picture of a farmer who just liked to fish...which was what he was. Into the cafe walks these two men, their wives and three small kids. One of the men walks over to our table and inquires as to where he and his friends might find a guide for the rest of the day. They were new to the lake and they didn’t own a boat but they wanted to try their hands at fishing....THE KIDS TOO! We almost ran over each other in our haste to point out that WE were all booked up and besides....WE didn’t do families. Our boats were lean and mean and we only catered to the serious game fishermen. Those two city dudes and their families looked appropriately crestfallen and they began to herd their families out of the cafe and toward their cars when Mr. Jack speaks up: “Excuse me folks,” he said in his soft, unpretentious voice. “Do ya’ll have yore heart set on fishing for Black Bass or do you just want to have some fun?” Well both men turned and walked over to Mr. Jack’s table followed closely by wives and children. “No sir,” said the man who had talked to us. “We don’t care what we catch, we just want to have some fun.” Well Mr. Jack proceeds to usher them all out to the dock where his pontoon barge is tied up and he loads them all onboard. Of course WE, the PROFESSONALS, follow them outside to make fun of them as they push off. It was then we hear Mr. Jack inform the group that since there were so many of them, he was going to have to charge them $75.00 for a half day of fishing! That quieted us down. We looked at each other and silently did the math....Mr. Jack was making a MINT! I yelled at Mr. Jack as they eased away from the dock and asked him what he was going to fish for. He smiled and told me: WHITE BASS! Now you gotta understand, back then white bass were the junk fish of any lake. They rarely got over three pounds and they weren’t all that good to eat. The one thing they had going for them is that there was MILLIONS of them in Lake Livingston. Not only that but if you fished with light tackle, they put up one heck of a fight. So Mr. Jack took his “party” out and sit them on top of a big school of white bass and about a half hour before dark they came back to the marina. They had caught just over one hundred white bass and the men, their wives and their children were deliriously happy. The rest of us guides who were back from our own fishing trip were kind of quiet...this was not good...not only had these folks paid half again what we charged, but they had caught nothing but a “trash” fish and they were happy about it. This could be serious. Sure enough, the next week Mr. Jack started getting calls from friends of these people he had taken fishing. Soon he stayed booked up solid and he charged $100.00 for a whole days fishing! This started a true stampede. Over the following months all of us macho Black Bass guides ran all over the state looking to buy pontoon barges. Then we had to figure out how to actually fish for the damn white bass which we had always ignored before. Mr. Jack was quite helpful in that respect. He seemed to really enjoy taking all of us to school as it were, teaching us what to look for when hunting this damn trash fish. Yup, Mr. Jack became a TREND SETTER! Now HE was DA MAN on Lake Livingston and he made sure the rest of us never forgot it either. Today, fishing for white bass is a big thing not only on Lake Livingston, but on many Texas waterways. It has become a multi-million dollar business for tackle companies and bait companies who have rushed to supply the light tackle needed to make this kind of fishing exciting. All because Mr. Jack stepped up and became a real Trend Setter....back in the day! |
| Ever since I was a small boy I have had one recurring dream; To visit Africa and experience all the varied forms of wildlife there. As a child I use to daydream of being a Great White Hunter and leading safaris into the deepest, darkest jungles of Africa. I use to visualize myself standing bravily in the path of a charging lion and bringing him down with one shot! I use to daydream of sitting around the campfire out in the wide African Savana and regaling my clients with tales of the hunt...ahhhh, that was the life! As I grew older, I never relinquished the dream but it did change somewhat. Instead of hunting the animals, I began to daydream of stalking my prey with a camera, of looking into the wild eyes of a leopard and snapping his picture, thus capturing him, frozen in the moment for all time. I could spend hours with that particular daydream. I must admit that even now, at this advanced age, I still enjoy that same daydream from time to time. Well I have to tell you, thanks to Mel, I came about as close as I ever will to realizing that dream a couple of days ago. You see, Mel is always surfing the net, searching out new and interesting places to visit on the web. So I was not surprised, on Sunday evening, when she called to me to come quick...I was in the bedroom watching TV while she played on the computer. I ambled into the livingroom. "What's up?" I asked her. "Come here," she replied. "You have got to see this." Well I walked to the desk and stared over her shoulder at the computer screen and was amazed. She had found a webcam that had been sit up on a game reserve in Africa! The camera had been put up in a tree overlooking a watering hole and it had infra-red lighting so the nighttime landscape could be plainly seen. The camera was also equipped with a motion sensor so that whenever anything within an almost 360 degree angle moved, the camera would swing around and zoom in on it giving you a very clear picture of the animal. As I stood there with my mouth hanging open, a couple of Zebras walked up to the watering hole and began to drink! "OH, OH, LOOK!" I yelled excitedly. Suddenly I was that little kid again, daydreaming of the big game hunt! I was the older man, reaching for my camera....I WAS IN AFRICA!!! As I watched in utter amazement, the two Zebra were startled by a new arrival at the watering hole; A large Elephant came striding into view and promptly chased the two zebra off and took over the small pond for himself. I could hardly breathe. I was watching these animals in real time, in the wild as if it were ME sitting up in that tree and not a webcam. Well since Sunday I have kept a close eye on that watering hole, visiting it at different times of the day and marveling at all the animals who regularly come down to drink. I have seen lions, hyenas, wildebeest, elephants, zebras and impalas, all passing before the camera and some staying longer than others. The webcam also has sound and I have to tell you that it is really weird to sit here in my living room, in Texas and listen to the deep, throaty cough of a male lion in the African darkness or the distinct call of a hyena off in the distance. I urge any of you who, like me, is in love with all things African...especially the wildlife, to check this out. Now sometimes you might go for long periods with on activity but I promise you that the first time you spot an animal easing down to take a drink, you will be hooked! I find that the best time to see some activity is around 10 or 11 a.m. as that would be late afternoon or early evening Africa time and the perfect time to see some of the herd animals quenching their thirst after a long day of grazing. Here is the site: http://www.wavelit.com/index.asp?ch=Wildlife&sh=africam I hope you like it half as much as I do. |
| Have you ever started out writing a serious blog on a serious topic and become convinced, half way through researching the subject, that you were all wrong? Well that happened to me today. I had every intention of writing a scathing condemnation of a man who is running for the office of Governor of Texas; Kinky Friedman. Friedman is a self-styled humorist, writer and singer/songwriter who, in the seventies headed a band called Kinky Friedman and the Texas Jewboys....yeah, I know, real class. Well I was all set to blast this buffoon who is trying for the top job in the state government. He is no more a Texan than George Bush. Kinky was born in Chicago in 1947. So I began to read up on this turkey just so I could get the facts straight and it was then that a funny thing happened.....as I read different online articles complete with quotes from Kinky, I found myself saying: "Why the hell not?" I mean, really how bad could he be? Now if there are any of you out there deluded enough to believe that politicians seek a high government office because of an overpowering urge to do right by the common man, leave now. You are too confused to get it anyway. No, all politicians are in the game for one reason and one reason only: The gaining of Power and once they get that Power they spend the rest of their days trying to hang onto it. Oh they mouth the phrases they think you want to hear....anything to get that all important vote...the key to the power but don't think for even a nanosecond that there is any one of them who actually gives a tinker's damn what our lot in life is or will be. So, knowing all this, I now read up on old Kinky. He is outspoken, Politically Incorrect to a fault and he is able to laugh at himself and everyone else in the political game. He has a rule; if he is speaking before a liberal crowd he throws out as many racist and sexist jokes and remarks as he can come up with. If, however, he is speaking before a ultra conservative country folks he makes fun of rednecks and he uses bigger words to confuse them. You would think people would rebel from this behavior but instead they flock to his cause...whatever that is. People want someone who is real and honest and I have to admit it...Richard (Kinky) Friedman is about as Real as it gets. After reading more about him I have to admit it....the man is a breath of fresh air. Here is a very telling quote from Friedman: " “W.W.W.R.D.—What Would Will Rogers Do? That's really it. Does that work? What did that lady call me? A modern-day common-sense philosopher? I think that's it. I think that's what we need.” He came up with this gem halfway between Dallas and Houston, stumping for votes with rallies in Bars in both cities. Yeah, I think this is the kind of guy Texas needs. Hell, for that matter the whole country could use a normal, regular guy in the Head Office....God knows it couldn't get much worse could it? Let me leave you with a sample quote from an article I found online. No politician in the country would ever be caught dead uttering words like this to a media type hungry for some dirt, but Kinky didn't hesitate when asked if people take his race for the Governorship serious: "“I'm sick of being a performing monkey,” he said after a while. “I'm sick of these rich motherfuckers. But I'm also sick of people asking me if this is a joke. God damn it, I am serious. And they're going to see that I am, eventually.” He paused, then added, “People are always misunderstanding each other. You can never think you have the last word on any human heart.” You gotta love a man with that kind of honesty, or at least I do. Here is the link to a really good article on Kinky Friedman. You should read it. It is a refreshing look at a true Character. http://www.newyorker.com/fact/content/articles/050822fa_fact |
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I will give you till Tuesday, my official check in day. LOL