. . . to announce Monday is my BBL’s birthday! I have now known her for 2/3rds of her life! And I’m happy to still be able to say our seemingly not-so-long ago meeting remains the most fortuitous event in my life.
During the year my BBL made her entrance, the world also experinced the births of NBC’s The Today Show, Bob Costas, George Strait, Dan Aykroyd, Patrick Swayze, Jimmy Connors, Christopher Reeve -- even John Goodman AND (shiver) Roseann Barr!
But to me, she was the true talent born that year and has continued to play the leading role in my show ever since the day I met her. Here’s wishing many, many more candles in y(our) future, my Beautiful Bodacious Lady!
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Thursday, May 28, 2009
2 Towns & the Tale of a Trail of Hope 'Tween Them
Last St Patrick’s Day I found myself with a little extra time during a drive from Lubbock to Amarillo. Jumped off the I-State to wander to and through the town of Tulia, Texas. Why? No idea, other than I had never been there before -- and the name sounded vaguely familiar.
I went through the center of town almost before I knew it. Turned around at the Senior Center. Tulia had already given me the feeling it might have a lot of seniors among its citizens; however, the lack of any sign of life surrounding this very nice facility was, in retrospect, a little disturbing.
Returned to what I perceived to be the city’s main intersection (marked by the stop-and-go light at one corner of the Swisher County Courthouse) and parked the Hertz rental. Got out and read the County was established in 1890 (as inscribed on a huge granite boulder sitting on the corner of the courthouse property – along with its proclamation of Faith and Courage – Endurance and Success (sounds a lot like HOPE to me) and that “Law, Order, Education and Christian Principles have sustained Swisher County people.” I walked clockwise around the courthouse square, past the building that said it was the Tulia Pharmacy (but it was actually a print shop) with a poster in the window advertising the two upcoming (?) March 30th performances (5 and 7:30pm) of the Culpepper and Merriweather Circus. Not sure, in retrospect, the ad was for the this year (since the circus hasn't updated it's website since 2008).
The next thing I saw was a Washington monument-looking oblesisk standing smack-dab in the middle of the intersection. If that wasn’t unusual enough, the marker/monument/obelisk heralded the official route of the Ozark Trail. Some verbage (I think on a nearby historical marker) said something about the Trail being a promotion of a Northwest Arkansas resort. What the . . . .?
I have never laid claim to being a geographical genius, but I had always associated anything “Ozark” to be at least two states east of where I was standing. I took a more careful look at the intersection and its streets. One street was “Broadway”-- very aptly named because it was a VERY WIDE brick paved street—actually more like a boulevard. It had obviously been conceived and built during more prosperous (or, at least, more hopeful) times. It was all curious enough for me to “file away” to investigate later.
Which I did—albeit haphazardly and without any sense of haste. Eventually I learned [God bless Al Gore for inventing the Internet] that the Ozark Trail Association’s efforts predated the legendary Route 66 (which actually followed a good part of the Ozark Trail--just not through Tulia). Found out communities lobbied to have the OTA and similar endeavors routed through their towns. Local merchants, anticipating the lucrative commerce opportunities of all those folks passing by their businesses, funded the upkeep and marker placements. [As you might imagine, this practice did not always serve to create the most direct route to anywhere.] And it also definitely helped to have an ultimate destination to aim the increasing population of automobiles – which an entrepreneur by the name of William Hope Harvey was happy to provide.
Seems around the turn of the century, he started building a resort just outside of Rogers. Arkansas. He saw fit to name it Monte Ne (a moniker supposedly contracted from Spanish and Omaha (Indian) words meaning “mountain waters”). He also “unselfishly” served as the president of the OTA. One can only imagine how strong the attraction of a destination with lush green, hilly terrain, an abundance of trees and water might be to anyone who found themself with an automobile in dry, flat, dusty Northwest Texas.
And, as coincidence would have it, I would find myself there at the other end of the trail a couple of months later! [To be continued]
I went through the center of town almost before I knew it. Turned around at the Senior Center. Tulia had already given me the feeling it might have a lot of seniors among its citizens; however, the lack of any sign of life surrounding this very nice facility was, in retrospect, a little disturbing.
Returned to what I perceived to be the city’s main intersection (marked by the stop-and-go light at one corner of the Swisher County Courthouse) and parked the Hertz rental. Got out and read the County was established in 1890 (as inscribed on a huge granite boulder sitting on the corner of the courthouse property – along with its proclamation of Faith and Courage – Endurance and Success (sounds a lot like HOPE to me) and that “Law, Order, Education and Christian Principles have sustained Swisher County people.” I walked clockwise around the courthouse square, past the building that said it was the Tulia Pharmacy (but it was actually a print shop) with a poster in the window advertising the two upcoming (?) March 30th performances (5 and 7:30pm) of the Culpepper and Merriweather Circus. Not sure, in retrospect, the ad was for the this year (since the circus hasn't updated it's website since 2008).
The next thing I saw was a Washington monument-looking oblesisk standing smack-dab in the middle of the intersection. If that wasn’t unusual enough, the marker/monument/obelisk heralded the official route of the Ozark Trail. Some verbage (I think on a nearby historical marker) said something about the Trail being a promotion of a Northwest Arkansas resort. What the . . . .?
I have never laid claim to being a geographical genius, but I had always associated anything “Ozark” to be at least two states east of where I was standing. I took a more careful look at the intersection and its streets. One street was “Broadway”-- very aptly named because it was a VERY WIDE brick paved street—actually more like a boulevard. It had obviously been conceived and built during more prosperous (or, at least, more hopeful) times. It was all curious enough for me to “file away” to investigate later.
Which I did—albeit haphazardly and without any sense of haste. Eventually I learned [God bless Al Gore for inventing the Internet] that the Ozark Trail Association’s efforts predated the legendary Route 66 (which actually followed a good part of the Ozark Trail--just not through Tulia). Found out communities lobbied to have the OTA and similar endeavors routed through their towns. Local merchants, anticipating the lucrative commerce opportunities of all those folks passing by their businesses, funded the upkeep and marker placements. [As you might imagine, this practice did not always serve to create the most direct route to anywhere.] And it also definitely helped to have an ultimate destination to aim the increasing population of automobiles – which an entrepreneur by the name of William Hope Harvey was happy to provide.
Seems around the turn of the century, he started building a resort just outside of Rogers. Arkansas. He saw fit to name it Monte Ne (a moniker supposedly contracted from Spanish and Omaha (Indian) words meaning “mountain waters”). He also “unselfishly” served as the president of the OTA. One can only imagine how strong the attraction of a destination with lush green, hilly terrain, an abundance of trees and water might be to anyone who found themself with an automobile in dry, flat, dusty Northwest Texas.
And, as coincidence would have it, I would find myself there at the other end of the trail a couple of months later! [To be continued]
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Geronimo's Farewell
I was having breakfast Tuesday morning after a short walk to the little Donut Café not too far from our abode. Feeling good that I had chosen mild exercise and a cheese and mushroom omelette over the deathly (but much tastier) chocolate frosted concoction with sprinkes on the top, I opened a left-over section of the Big D Mourning News that was lying on the table. It was the section that contained the obits – which is the section I usually do my best to avoid reading.
There, among the other poor departed souls (most of whom were pictured at least 20 years ago in their suits/uniforms/formal attire, etc.) was a photo of a 58 year old guy in a T-shirt that proclaimed “My Batteries Are DEAD!” At least I think that’s what it said ‘cause the resolution of the photo wasn’t all that great. But the letters D E A D were extremely legible.
I would like to think he selected this photo on purpose – kind of a farewell gag by a guy with the first name of Geronimo (really!). If he indeed had a sense of humor like that, I would have liked to have known him. Regardless, it made me smile and feel a bit more alive than I had a few minutes earlier. R.I.P.
There, among the other poor departed souls (most of whom were pictured at least 20 years ago in their suits/uniforms/formal attire, etc.) was a photo of a 58 year old guy in a T-shirt that proclaimed “My Batteries Are DEAD!” At least I think that’s what it said ‘cause the resolution of the photo wasn’t all that great. But the letters D E A D were extremely legible.
I would like to think he selected this photo on purpose – kind of a farewell gag by a guy with the first name of Geronimo (really!). If he indeed had a sense of humor like that, I would have liked to have known him. Regardless, it made me smile and feel a bit more alive than I had a few minutes earlier. R.I.P.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Thanks Again For Our Freedom
A heartfelt "thanks" goes out to family members, friends and associates - and their family members - and ALL who have served and sacrificed to perserve our freedom.
I don't even want to contemplate what our way of life might be like today without having had the benefit of their contributions.
"Those who deny freedom to others, deserve it not for themselves; and, under a just God, can not long retain it." - Abraham Lincoln - April 6, 1859
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Life Is Never Boring . . .
. . . when you know a Norwegian who is celebrating a birthday (it's like having Halloween in April)!
Monday, April 27, 2009
Natchez to Natchitoches
Last week we saddled up the Mustang for a business drive through East Texas and Northern Louisiana with the objective to reach Jackson, Mississippi. We were able to plan the trip far enough in advance that my BBL could arrange a week off from her nursing duties at Medical Metropolis so she could ride shotgun for the almost 1000 mile round trip.
After my soul was salved with customer visits along the I-20 corridor, we headed SW down “The Trace Parkway” jumping on it just outside of Jackson for its last 88 miles to the Mississippi River at Natchez. The “Trace Parkway” is an immaculate two lane Federal road with a 50 mph speed limit and zero commercial traffic. Combined with 80 degrees and a weather high pressure system, it was the perfect environment to drop the top, sit back and soak up the beautiful sunny Mississippi countryside.
We made one sidetrip into Port Gibson for some gas and to view the city (according to our guidebook) that was spared destruction during the War of Northern Aggression (i.e. the Civil War for you Yankees) because Grant said “it was too beautiful to burn.” Well we got the gas, but we must have made a wrong turn and missed the beautiful part of the city. We did see the old abandoned Trace movie theater and a most unique church steeple before escaping back to the Parkway.
A couple of observations about the Trace Parkway: it is 444 miles long which leaves approximately 80% of it as a future experience for us. The 20% we did experience was 99% downhill (a point I will remember if ever looking for a place to ride a bicycle); didn’t see one pothole or piece of litter; all in all, seems to us to be a fine use of our tax dollars.
The Parkway terminated in the splendid port city of Natchez as did we for the evening. It is said to be one of the oldest cities in the state which has seemingly allowed it to collect the highest number of mansions (antebellum or otherwise), historical sites, and B&B’s per capita. Because it sits high above the Eastern side of the very wide Mississippi River, it is uniquely suited to observe stunning sunsets. Almost as impressive was the experience and fare at Fat Mama’s Tamales (although it costs slightly more than watching the sunsets)—both are highly recommended, but the location of Fat Mama’s makes it difficult to do both at the same time!
The next day we traded The Parkway for the El Camino East-West Corridor or as known in Texas, the Old San Antonio Road (also known to everyone else as US Route 84)]. We kept the top down because the good weather was still with us. Speed limit was mostly 55 mph, but all manner of commercial traffic uses this road. Had to hang on to our hats everytime an 18 wheeler passed us going in the opposite direction. We missed the tranquility of the Trace.
Late afternoon, we rolled into the most difficult pronounciation for an American city we’ve ever encountered: Natchitoches - which we finally got around to identifying as “Knack-a-tish”. Evidently this was close enough to acceptable that it didn’t generate any giggles when we said it around a local person.
Natchitoches has several claims to fame. Supposedly the oldest city in Louisiana, it has its share of mansions/plantations/B&B’s too (due to its heritage of being a port city on the Red River and thereby a gateway to the mighty Mississippi). It’s also home to Northwestern State U with a very pretty campus. But perhaps it’s best known (according to the tourist literature we saw) as being the site where chick flick Steel Magnolias was filmed only 20 years ago.
Our lodging for the night took us to the outskirts of town where we found the Starlight Plantation B&B where owner/hostess Susan provided some rustic luxury alongside the peaceful Cane River Lake. Seems that the fickle Red River changed course along the way eventually leaving Natchitoches without a viable connection to the Red or Mississippi Rivers. But the “oxbow” type lake that was left was renamed Cane River. Although it is officially a lake, it looks more like a wide stream – and it is a real treasure. Now my BBL wants to read Cane River by Lalita Tadamy.
Bottom line on Natchez and Natchitoches: We would return in a heartbeat! In fact, I could live in Natchitoches (subsequently have learned that a 2007 US News and World Report included it in their top 10 places to retire.) But I would settle for another meat pie appetizer, salad dinner and a glass of wine with my BBL on Antonne’s patio overlooking the river/lake/water/whatever.
Click this link for a 7:45 minute “movie” of our trip.
After my soul was salved with customer visits along the I-20 corridor, we headed SW down “The Trace Parkway” jumping on it just outside of Jackson for its last 88 miles to the Mississippi River at Natchez. The “Trace Parkway” is an immaculate two lane Federal road with a 50 mph speed limit and zero commercial traffic. Combined with 80 degrees and a weather high pressure system, it was the perfect environment to drop the top, sit back and soak up the beautiful sunny Mississippi countryside.
We made one sidetrip into Port Gibson for some gas and to view the city (according to our guidebook) that was spared destruction during the War of Northern Aggression (i.e. the Civil War for you Yankees) because Grant said “it was too beautiful to burn.” Well we got the gas, but we must have made a wrong turn and missed the beautiful part of the city. We did see the old abandoned Trace movie theater and a most unique church steeple before escaping back to the Parkway.
A couple of observations about the Trace Parkway: it is 444 miles long which leaves approximately 80% of it as a future experience for us. The 20% we did experience was 99% downhill (a point I will remember if ever looking for a place to ride a bicycle); didn’t see one pothole or piece of litter; all in all, seems to us to be a fine use of our tax dollars.
The Parkway terminated in the splendid port city of Natchez as did we for the evening. It is said to be one of the oldest cities in the state which has seemingly allowed it to collect the highest number of mansions (antebellum or otherwise), historical sites, and B&B’s per capita. Because it sits high above the Eastern side of the very wide Mississippi River, it is uniquely suited to observe stunning sunsets. Almost as impressive was the experience and fare at Fat Mama’s Tamales (although it costs slightly more than watching the sunsets)—both are highly recommended, but the location of Fat Mama’s makes it difficult to do both at the same time!
The next day we traded The Parkway for the El Camino East-West Corridor or as known in Texas, the Old San Antonio Road (also known to everyone else as US Route 84)]. We kept the top down because the good weather was still with us. Speed limit was mostly 55 mph, but all manner of commercial traffic uses this road. Had to hang on to our hats everytime an 18 wheeler passed us going in the opposite direction. We missed the tranquility of the Trace.
Late afternoon, we rolled into the most difficult pronounciation for an American city we’ve ever encountered: Natchitoches - which we finally got around to identifying as “Knack-a-tish”. Evidently this was close enough to acceptable that it didn’t generate any giggles when we said it around a local person.
Natchitoches has several claims to fame. Supposedly the oldest city in Louisiana, it has its share of mansions/plantations/B&B’s too (due to its heritage of being a port city on the Red River and thereby a gateway to the mighty Mississippi). It’s also home to Northwestern State U with a very pretty campus. But perhaps it’s best known (according to the tourist literature we saw) as being the site where chick flick Steel Magnolias was filmed only 20 years ago.
Our lodging for the night took us to the outskirts of town where we found the Starlight Plantation B&B where owner/hostess Susan provided some rustic luxury alongside the peaceful Cane River Lake. Seems that the fickle Red River changed course along the way eventually leaving Natchitoches without a viable connection to the Red or Mississippi Rivers. But the “oxbow” type lake that was left was renamed Cane River. Although it is officially a lake, it looks more like a wide stream – and it is a real treasure. Now my BBL wants to read Cane River by Lalita Tadamy.
Bottom line on Natchez and Natchitoches: We would return in a heartbeat! In fact, I could live in Natchitoches (subsequently have learned that a 2007 US News and World Report included it in their top 10 places to retire.) But I would settle for another meat pie appetizer, salad dinner and a glass of wine with my BBL on Antonne’s patio overlooking the river/lake/water/whatever.
Click this link for a 7:45 minute “movie” of our trip.
Friday, February 6, 2009
The End -
of a significant chapter of my life, but thankfully not the end of my life story.
This past Wednesday, 449 days after two of my associates and I were hit by a car while attempting to walk across the street in front of our company's headquarters, the driver received his plea sentence in Wisconsin's Outagamie County courthouse. I'm told the judge's decree included:
1. Alcohol and other drug testing - He is required to complete testing and any necessary follow up treatment as ordered by his probation agent.
2. Absolute sobriety - for the length of his sentence, He is not to have any drugs or alcohol. Additionally, he's not to be in any establishment where there is a provision for alcohol. He cannot have alcohol or drugs in his residence (even if belong to others).
3. $200/month for the entire sentence in restitution. (not to me, but to reimburse the company's Workman's Comp expenses)
4. 500 hours of community service to be provided at either of the two hospitals in the city; at a minimum, 2 hours per week for 5 years.
5. 2 full days per year for 5 years, he has to give talks to students about the impact drug use has had on his life and the lives of others.
6. A letter of apology to me.
7. As an alternative to a year in the county jail, he will serve 16 days in jail (on the weekends for the next 8 weeks). If he fails a random drug test during the next five years, he will immediately be taken to jail to serve a 12 month sentence.
8. He is required to maintain full time employment for the duration of his sentence.
My immediate thought, given the state of the economy and my own employment situation, is that the last condition may be the most difficult to accomplish! But the bottom line is that I'm positive we both wish we did not have to face any of the consequences from a brief unfortunate moment on that cold late afternoon winter day.
My BBL is most happy I've decided to signal the end of this event with the decision to shave off my beard. I had started it after the second crainiotomy when I felt that growing it was one of the few things I could do all by myself! But I'm truly relieved that this event has come to a conclusion -- and without having to relive it in detail via a court trial that was scheduled for next month.
This past Wednesday, 449 days after two of my associates and I were hit by a car while attempting to walk across the street in front of our company's headquarters, the driver received his plea sentence in Wisconsin's Outagamie County courthouse. I'm told the judge's decree included:
1. Alcohol and other drug testing - He is required to complete testing and any necessary follow up treatment as ordered by his probation agent.
2. Absolute sobriety - for the length of his sentence, He is not to have any drugs or alcohol. Additionally, he's not to be in any establishment where there is a provision for alcohol. He cannot have alcohol or drugs in his residence (even if belong to others).
3. $200/month for the entire sentence in restitution. (not to me, but to reimburse the company's Workman's Comp expenses)
4. 500 hours of community service to be provided at either of the two hospitals in the city; at a minimum, 2 hours per week for 5 years.
5. 2 full days per year for 5 years, he has to give talks to students about the impact drug use has had on his life and the lives of others.
6. A letter of apology to me.
7. As an alternative to a year in the county jail, he will serve 16 days in jail (on the weekends for the next 8 weeks). If he fails a random drug test during the next five years, he will immediately be taken to jail to serve a 12 month sentence.
8. He is required to maintain full time employment for the duration of his sentence.
My immediate thought, given the state of the economy and my own employment situation, is that the last condition may be the most difficult to accomplish! But the bottom line is that I'm positive we both wish we did not have to face any of the consequences from a brief unfortunate moment on that cold late afternoon winter day.
My BBL is most happy I've decided to signal the end of this event with the decision to shave off my beard. I had started it after the second crainiotomy when I felt that growing it was one of the few things I could do all by myself! But I'm truly relieved that this event has come to a conclusion -- and without having to relive it in detail via a court trial that was scheduled for next month.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
I Do Solemnly Swear (or Affirm) . . . .
Seems like the thing to do this week is to take an oath. Everybody (at least on TV) seems to be doing it. O’Baby, Joe Bidy, and the Cabinet Gang of “Changers.” What I could really relate to, however, was the Chief Justice mangling his 35 word bit. If somebody that intelligent and accomplished can flub his line and mislead the most powerful man in the world, I will no longer feel all that bad about the unintended words/syntax/wrong names/etc. that comes out of my mouth when public speaking (or when I proverbially screw up the punch line to a joke).
Watching all the oathing going on reminded me I had yet to formulate a New Year Resolution (I do find some comfort in knowing I still have my finely honed skill of procrastination). A long time ago I vowed to only make New Year Resolutions in the year following presidential elections – unless the incumbent was re-elected. Just my way of trying to align with the nation’s periodic attempts at improvement, plus it provides less opportunities for feeling so badly when I break them.
Of course my and the entire the electorate’s #1 fallback resolution is to LOSE WEIGHT (I contend Jenny Craig, WW, 24-hour Fitness, Gold’s Gym and their ilk would die horrible deaths if a new year didn’t occur every twelve months). My BBL is committed to keeping this fate from happening to two of these organizations which, I must admit, yields tangible results in making our wallets lighter. I’ve accomplishing the same with much less effort just by being unemployed! Unfortunately, these traditional approaches to weight loss are prohibitively expensive; so here goes my approch to this challange:
WHEREAS my weight has multiplied 21 times since birth; and
WHEREAS my body is so incredibly efficient at taking any and all ingested items and transforming them to 1.999% of its original mass and then retaining 0.999% of same; and
WHEREAS two-thirds of my pants’ waistlines have shrunk about two terms; and
WHEREAS I have a dog anyway: I, LoneStarWizzz, with a bag of Twizzlers in my left hand and holding open the refrigerator door with my right, do solemnly swear (make that affirm) to this resolution’s intent to faithfully walk my age in miles every month throughout the term(s) of the 44th President of the United States. So help me God! [literally]
If this doesn’t guarantee him eight years, nothing will.
Watching all the oathing going on reminded me I had yet to formulate a New Year Resolution (I do find some comfort in knowing I still have my finely honed skill of procrastination). A long time ago I vowed to only make New Year Resolutions in the year following presidential elections – unless the incumbent was re-elected. Just my way of trying to align with the nation’s periodic attempts at improvement, plus it provides less opportunities for feeling so badly when I break them.
Of course my and the entire the electorate’s #1 fallback resolution is to LOSE WEIGHT (I contend Jenny Craig, WW, 24-hour Fitness, Gold’s Gym and their ilk would die horrible deaths if a new year didn’t occur every twelve months). My BBL is committed to keeping this fate from happening to two of these organizations which, I must admit, yields tangible results in making our wallets lighter. I’ve accomplishing the same with much less effort just by being unemployed! Unfortunately, these traditional approaches to weight loss are prohibitively expensive; so here goes my approch to this challange:
WHEREAS my weight has multiplied 21 times since birth; and
WHEREAS my body is so incredibly efficient at taking any and all ingested items and transforming them to 1.999% of its original mass and then retaining 0.999% of same; and
WHEREAS two-thirds of my pants’ waistlines have shrunk about two terms; and
WHEREAS I have a dog anyway: I, LoneStarWizzz, with a bag of Twizzlers in my left hand and holding open the refrigerator door with my right, do solemnly swear (make that affirm) to this resolution’s intent to faithfully walk my age in miles every month throughout the term(s) of the 44th President of the United States. So help me God! [literally]
If this doesn’t guarantee him eight years, nothing will.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Let's sing: On the 1st day of Christmas. . .
. . . my company gave to me, a pink slip after 38 years. On the 2nd day of Christmas . . . .
Terminated! How the dreaded event unfolded: my Blackberry buzzed the final evening of November just as our family and a guest were sitting down to our last Thanksgiving weekend meal together. I glanced at the incoming message from my boss: numerous changes...need to meet you tomorrow at the Motley Motel...bring your laptop.... I chose not to share this cryptic news with our small gathering, and I wasn't much of a conversationalist the rest of the evening either (not that I'm much of one anyway, but this time I felt I had an excuse). Didn't get much sleep that night either.
The next morning the boss buzzed the Blackberry again: confirm receipt of my message...also I do not need you to bring your computer.... What the?? Was this a reprieve?
Nope. At the annointed hour, I dutifully appeared at my execution. The boss (who normally is a very nice guy but this night was looking a bit like Bart Simpson on steroids) ushered me into a very large conference room that had light only over one table with a phone on it and one chair on either side. Kind of surreal. After several attempts, the phone simply refused to allow an outgoing call, so the boss drew his trusty Blackberry and proceeded to conference call with Ms. Armbreaker from HR, and the Queen VP of Global Sales who explained how she had wanted to be there in person, but the dreadful weather at HQ had prevented that - and something about her pending trip to China which, frankly, went over my head.
From that point, the role of my boss was to push various documents at me as the HR professional rattled them off. We ended up having two good discussions about (1) extending the termination date 8 to 10 days to allow me to complete a couple of important tasks with customers and (2) the potential of a continuing part-time relationship as an independant contractor. Of course the #2 won't proceed until I sign the separation document which, near as I can tell, would hold the company blameless for every time they ever mis-spelled my last name plus all evil deeds (real or imagined) they might have done to me during the last 38+ years. And they suggested I get an attorney to advise me (you betcha). And help yourself to a lump of coal on your way out. Thanks for coming.
So my last day was, effectively, the first day of the twelve days of Christmas! Upon reflection, I (almost) feel more sorry for my boss who has to be on his own emotional rollercoaster, along with several of my peers who had to give (or get) similar news. However, regardless of what happens from here, I'm glad to be able to say my tenure with the organization has (literally) been the ride of my life--an extrordinary experience. The ratio of nice folks I have met and worked with vs. the not so nice has been in the neighborhood of 100:1 (probably higher). I think it would have been pretty hard to beat those odds anywhere else!
Terminated! How the dreaded event unfolded: my Blackberry buzzed the final evening of November just as our family and a guest were sitting down to our last Thanksgiving weekend meal together. I glanced at the incoming message from my boss: numerous changes...need to meet you tomorrow at the Motley Motel...bring your laptop.... I chose not to share this cryptic news with our small gathering, and I wasn't much of a conversationalist the rest of the evening either (not that I'm much of one anyway, but this time I felt I had an excuse). Didn't get much sleep that night either.
The next morning the boss buzzed the Blackberry again: confirm receipt of my message...also I do not need you to bring your computer.... What the?? Was this a reprieve?
Nope. At the annointed hour, I dutifully appeared at my execution. The boss (who normally is a very nice guy but this night was looking a bit like Bart Simpson on steroids) ushered me into a very large conference room that had light only over one table with a phone on it and one chair on either side. Kind of surreal. After several attempts, the phone simply refused to allow an outgoing call, so the boss drew his trusty Blackberry and proceeded to conference call with Ms. Armbreaker from HR, and the Queen VP of Global Sales who explained how she had wanted to be there in person, but the dreadful weather at HQ had prevented that - and something about her pending trip to China which, frankly, went over my head.
From that point, the role of my boss was to push various documents at me as the HR professional rattled them off. We ended up having two good discussions about (1) extending the termination date 8 to 10 days to allow me to complete a couple of important tasks with customers and (2) the potential of a continuing part-time relationship as an independant contractor. Of course the #2 won't proceed until I sign the separation document which, near as I can tell, would hold the company blameless for every time they ever mis-spelled my last name plus all evil deeds (real or imagined) they might have done to me during the last 38+ years. And they suggested I get an attorney to advise me (you betcha). And help yourself to a lump of coal on your way out. Thanks for coming.
So my last day was, effectively, the first day of the twelve days of Christmas! Upon reflection, I (almost) feel more sorry for my boss who has to be on his own emotional rollercoaster, along with several of my peers who had to give (or get) similar news. However, regardless of what happens from here, I'm glad to be able to say my tenure with the organization has (literally) been the ride of my life--an extrordinary experience. The ratio of nice folks I have met and worked with vs. the not so nice has been in the neighborhood of 100:1 (probably higher). I think it would have been pretty hard to beat those odds anywhere else!
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
"Step Back From The Alter Sir . . .
And Keep Your Hands Off My Wallet!" Another sign of our weird times: allow me to share this 12/15/08 post at http://politicalirony.com/: The blessing of the SUVs
Here’s another one of those stories that truly wins the irony award. In Princess Sparkle Pony’s Photo Blog (subtitle “I keep track of Condoleezza’s hairdo so you don’t have to”) is a story about a recent service at the Greater Grace Temple in Detroit. The title of the article is “Programming Note: This Week, the Part of the Golden Calf Will be Played by Three Sport Utility Vehicles”.
At this service, called “A Hybrid Hope”, Bishop Charles Ellis prayed for the future of the American auto industry. But what makes it truly astounding was that Bishop Ellis shared the altar with three SUVs (one from each company in the holy auto trinity, of course).
As if that wasn’t enough, Ellis summoned up hundreds of auto workers and retirees in the congregation to come forward toward the vehicles on the altar to be anointed with oil. Yes, oil. You just can’t make stuff like this up. From Reuters, via Princess Sparkle Pony. More photos.
Here’s another one of those stories that truly wins the irony award. In Princess Sparkle Pony’s Photo Blog (subtitle “I keep track of Condoleezza’s hairdo so you don’t have to”) is a story about a recent service at the Greater Grace Temple in Detroit. The title of the article is “Programming Note: This Week, the Part of the Golden Calf Will be Played by Three Sport Utility Vehicles”.
At this service, called “A Hybrid Hope”, Bishop Charles Ellis prayed for the future of the American auto industry. But what makes it truly astounding was that Bishop Ellis shared the altar with three SUVs (one from each company in the holy auto trinity, of course).
As if that wasn’t enough, Ellis summoned up hundreds of auto workers and retirees in the congregation to come forward toward the vehicles on the altar to be anointed with oil. Yes, oil. You just can’t make stuff like this up. From Reuters, via Princess Sparkle Pony. More photos.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
I'm as grateful as I can get
‘Tis the time of year to reflect upon the things for which we are thankful.
My “A to Z” list:
A = America – can you really imagine living somewhere else (except maybe Canada)?
B = BBL - as in my Beautiful Bodacious Lady (same as “L”)
C = Crosswords – allows my BBL to daily show me her intelligence and skill
D = Daughter (same as “K”)
E = Electricity/Energy – absolutely makes life much Easier
F = Friendship and Family (probably same as “U” and “Y”); Freedom
G = GPS - gets my associate Al (and me) to where we need to go in ½ the time.
H = Harmony – when everything is going smoothly. Same as “Happiness & Health”
I = Internet – use it every day, can’t imagine not having it. Aids my “Intellect”
J = Jeff - (same as “S”) - my boy who has grown into a man to make me very proud
K = Katie – my beautiful girl, a source of both pride and inspiration
L = Linda – synonymous with “Love” and “Life” (also same as “B and “W”)
M = MP3’s- represents my new interaction with “Music” these days
N = NPR – I still can’t believe it, but it has become my favorite radio station
O = Ostriches – just checking to see if you’re reading! Otherwise, OT
P = Punky - our “Puppy” who is my constant companion
Q = Quiet – I definitely like it (and increasingly more of it) these days
R = Residence. As in “Roof over our heads in a nice neighborhood”
S = Son (same as “J”)
T = Texas – wasn’t born here, but definitely am not ever leaving my adopted state
U = Same as “Y”!
V = Vitality – I have some, but mainly feed off “A,B,D,F,H,I, J,K,L,P,S,T,W,U,Y&Z”!
W = Wife (same as “B” and “L”; also the same as “Warmth”)
X = The “X” factor that uneXpectedly improves the eXperience we have
Y = You – if you’re reading this, you have probably touched my life favorably
Z = Zero’s, as in net worth. I have some of them (but you can’t get enough)!
My “A to Z” list:
A = America – can you really imagine living somewhere else (except maybe Canada)?
B = BBL - as in my Beautiful Bodacious Lady (same as “L”)
C = Crosswords – allows my BBL to daily show me her intelligence and skill
D = Daughter (same as “K”)
E = Electricity/Energy – absolutely makes life much Easier
F = Friendship and Family (probably same as “U” and “Y”); Freedom
G = GPS - gets my associate Al (and me) to where we need to go in ½ the time.
H = Harmony – when everything is going smoothly. Same as “Happiness & Health”
I = Internet – use it every day, can’t imagine not having it. Aids my “Intellect”
J = Jeff - (same as “S”) - my boy who has grown into a man to make me very proud
K = Katie – my beautiful girl, a source of both pride and inspiration
L = Linda – synonymous with “Love” and “Life” (also same as “B and “W”)
M = MP3’s- represents my new interaction with “Music” these days
N = NPR – I still can’t believe it, but it has become my favorite radio station
O = Ostriches – just checking to see if you’re reading! Otherwise, OT
P = Punky - our “Puppy” who is my constant companion
Q = Quiet – I definitely like it (and increasingly more of it) these days
R = Residence. As in “Roof over our heads in a nice neighborhood”
S = Son (same as “J”)
T = Texas – wasn’t born here, but definitely am not ever leaving my adopted state
U = Same as “Y”!
V = Vitality – I have some, but mainly feed off “A,B,D,F,H,I, J,K,L,P,S,T,W,U,Y&Z”!
W = Wife (same as “B” and “L”; also the same as “Warmth”)
X = The “X” factor that uneXpectedly improves the eXperience we have
Y = You – if you’re reading this, you have probably touched my life favorably
Z = Zero’s, as in net worth. I have some of them (but you can’t get enough)!
Saturday, November 15, 2008
My 1st Lap Around Indy
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Made my first ever trip to Indianapolis this last week. How I’ve been able to avoid this for so long is a mystery, but it is a mistake now rectified. The people there are so darn nice!
The occasion for the trip was two-fold. My BBL’s nephew, who also holds the title of godson, was marrying a vivacious local girl. That made an excuse for both a party and a family mini-reunion. Our twig of the family tree had no responsibility for any duty in the wedding other than showing up. Not a bad way to start a trip.
After duly observing and celebrating said nephew/godson’s acceptance of the bonds of matrimonial prison, I kissed my BBL and kids goodbye at the airport and moved my stuff from the downtown Omni Severin hotel to University Place Hotel on the campus of IUPU (which when you think about it, is a better sequence of letters than IPUP!). This move was the result of my first ever transaction with Priceline. I thought I was bidding on a four-star downtown hotel for $75/night (and hoping that might turn out to be the Omni). The new hotel came within a star of where we had been, but in retrospect, I probably could have gotten it for $50 as the place was that empty. It was here I witnessed the only negative reaction by an individual in this city: a woman checking into the hotel said “Darn It” and frowned when she learned that Celine Dion had canceled an evening performance she had just driven over 100 miles to see.
The reason I had extended my stay was to introduce myself to my company’s distributors in the city (I’m at my best when multi-tasking on trips). Little did these customers know that, through no fault of their own, they were now assigned to my Central Region. To their credit, none of them said “Darn it” or frowned when they met me. In fact, each one I met was as nice, if not nicer, than the last.
As I sat in the IND airport waiting to be one of the very last departures out of their “old” terminal, I believe I hit upon a plausible explanation for the pervasive “niceness” of this city’s citizens: Indianapolis is the headquarters of Eli Lilly, the manufacturers and purveyors of Prozac. Perhaps some of this stuff is getting in the city water supply? That would explain the one frown I saw—she was from Fort Wayne.
Monday, November 3, 2008
And I’m Unhappy Because . . . ?
Well, it’s not because Halloween is over where too many in the neighborhood feel they have to display faux graves, skeletons and spiders on their property!
And, I’m not unhappy because all the hot air advertising surrounding this election is about to vaporize. So too, (hopefully) will the forwarded email messages that spew right- and left-wing diatribe--some so unbelievable that the authors should be candidates for straightjackets.
But not all forwarded email is bad – some actually has the capacity to make me think rather than flinch. Like one entitled “Made in the USA: Spoiled Brats” that came in mis-attributed to David Letterman (but a little research on Snopes revealed it was written way back in November of ‘06 by a very un-comedic Craig Smith). He cites a (7/06) Newsweek poll stating that roughly 2/3rds of Americans are (or were) unhappy. And asks why.
Fast forward two years and a Time magazine poll claims that 85% of us are now unhappy—mostly with the economy, but I don’t personally know of anyone who has taken up “dumpster diving” lately. Craig Smith’s questions as to “why” are still valid. To be sure, it is every American’s unalienable right to feel unhappy, but I would think 90+% of us should feel pretty darn good about things – and 98+% of us could certainly find a great many things for which to be happy and thankful.
Your next five minutes of happiness are hereby provided by Robin Williams in this 1982 performance (courtesy of another forwarded email).
And, I’m not unhappy because all the hot air advertising surrounding this election is about to vaporize. So too, (hopefully) will the forwarded email messages that spew right- and left-wing diatribe--some so unbelievable that the authors should be candidates for straightjackets.
But not all forwarded email is bad – some actually has the capacity to make me think rather than flinch. Like one entitled “Made in the USA: Spoiled Brats” that came in mis-attributed to David Letterman (but a little research on Snopes revealed it was written way back in November of ‘06 by a very un-comedic Craig Smith). He cites a (7/06) Newsweek poll stating that roughly 2/3rds of Americans are (or were) unhappy. And asks why.
Fast forward two years and a Time magazine poll claims that 85% of us are now unhappy—mostly with the economy, but I don’t personally know of anyone who has taken up “dumpster diving” lately. Craig Smith’s questions as to “why” are still valid. To be sure, it is every American’s unalienable right to feel unhappy, but I would think 90+% of us should feel pretty darn good about things – and 98+% of us could certainly find a great many things for which to be happy and thankful.
Your next five minutes of happiness are hereby provided by Robin Williams in this 1982 performance (courtesy of another forwarded email).
Monday, October 20, 2008
Wasn't Halloween Once Called Black October?
The 3rd quarter statements are arriving (whimpering) in the mailbox. Don't know about you. but so far my net worth is about 1/3 less than it was at the beginning of the year. It appears that this is the only area where I've been able to lose "weight" in quite some time. Talk about crash diets!Let's get this election over with so we can have some new faces (masks?) to blame as soon as possible. Be sure to vote for your favorite "trick or treater" candidate . . . it'll make you feel a lot better--at least for a little while.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Note:
The next few "day" posts chronicle our recent vacation. I have taken the liberty of posting them in reverse chronological order so it (hopefully) makes a bit more sense as you scroll down through the posts. If you just want to "cut to the chase", go to the link on Day 8 to a "movie" slideshow of all our pictures.
Day 1: The Stars Are Big, The Stars Are Bright
[clap, clap] Deep in the Heart of Texas! On Saturday, my BBL and I set off for our 35th anniversary trip. Over the years we’ve gotten into the habit of trying to get off by ourselves for this occasion. This year on the list of possibilities was Honolulu, New England, and Florida. Instead, we found ourselves in remote Ft. Davis, Texas on our way to an even more remote area of the state. And before you accuse me of spousal abuse, let the record show this trip was her idea! (And I immediately agreed). She had seen an article in the Big D News offering a ready-made 8 day round trip itinerary to Big Bend National Park in far, far (did I mention far?) SW Texas.
Our first day’s goals were to get an early 5am-6am start, check into the Hotel Limpia [est. 1884], eat a decent meal, and get to nearby McDonald Observatory by 8:30pm for their “star-gazing” party. Half of these goals were met.
We pulled out of the driveway at 8 am and spent the next 9 ½ hours in the car, about a quarter of it with a (legit) 80 mph speed limit. We managed to squeeze in 2 stops for gas (one in Monahans—home of Texas’ Sahara-like Desert) and a ½ hour stop in Balmorhea State Park that encompasses a 1 million gallon/hour San Soloman Spring-fed swimming pool. Quite a remarkable sight in the middle of the desert.
Around 6 pm we checked into #22, a cozy “step-saver” of a room. Seven pillows were already residing in there, making it feel a tad bit smaller than tiny, and providing proof that not every thing is bigger in Texas. We did have the outstanding luxury of a private bathroom. The toilet seat will be memorable – sitting on it reminded me of my last attempt to ride a horse.
A decent dinner at the Hotel Limpia Dining Room was our other unmet goal. Evidently the primary purpose of the dining room is to get guests to walk through a LARGE gift shop and not necessarily to serve quality food.
McDonald Observatory was definitely the day’s highlight. We arrived just at sunset. Although the night wasn’t perfectly clear, as the sky got darker, the stars got bigger, brighter and more plentiful. We could actually see The Milky Way with the naked eye [truth in blogging notes: I’m near-sighted so I still required my prescription glasses. And the Observatory is not really in the heart of Texas but closer to what could be considered the left love-handle—if you leave El Paso out of the consideration]. Anyway, naked eyes weren’t really required. The staff had half a dozen manned telescopes for us to take in the billions of stars. They also performed a “Constellation Tour” in an outdoor amphitheater. They had an amazingly effective green laser which they used to point out groups of stars that were supposed to resemble big and small bears, scorpions, sea-goats, hunters, etc., but I was lost in a cloud of cosmic dust after they pointed out the Big Dipper. If you ever get to this area, put this on your ‘to do” list and be sure to dress warm. Altitude (~8000’), darkness and wind make a chilly combination—even in lower left Texas.
Saturday pictures
Our first day’s goals were to get an early 5am-6am start, check into the Hotel Limpia [est. 1884], eat a decent meal, and get to nearby McDonald Observatory by 8:30pm for their “star-gazing” party. Half of these goals were met.
We pulled out of the driveway at 8 am and spent the next 9 ½ hours in the car, about a quarter of it with a (legit) 80 mph speed limit. We managed to squeeze in 2 stops for gas (one in Monahans—home of Texas’ Sahara-like Desert) and a ½ hour stop in Balmorhea State Park that encompasses a 1 million gallon/hour San Soloman Spring-fed swimming pool. Quite a remarkable sight in the middle of the desert.
Around 6 pm we checked into #22, a cozy “step-saver” of a room. Seven pillows were already residing in there, making it feel a tad bit smaller than tiny, and providing proof that not every thing is bigger in Texas. We did have the outstanding luxury of a private bathroom. The toilet seat will be memorable – sitting on it reminded me of my last attempt to ride a horse.
A decent dinner at the Hotel Limpia Dining Room was our other unmet goal. Evidently the primary purpose of the dining room is to get guests to walk through a LARGE gift shop and not necessarily to serve quality food.
McDonald Observatory was definitely the day’s highlight. We arrived just at sunset. Although the night wasn’t perfectly clear, as the sky got darker, the stars got bigger, brighter and more plentiful. We could actually see The Milky Way with the naked eye [truth in blogging notes: I’m near-sighted so I still required my prescription glasses. And the Observatory is not really in the heart of Texas but closer to what could be considered the left love-handle—if you leave El Paso out of the consideration]. Anyway, naked eyes weren’t really required. The staff had half a dozen manned telescopes for us to take in the billions of stars. They also performed a “Constellation Tour” in an outdoor amphitheater. They had an amazingly effective green laser which they used to point out groups of stars that were supposed to resemble big and small bears, scorpions, sea-goats, hunters, etc., but I was lost in a cloud of cosmic dust after they pointed out the Big Dipper. If you ever get to this area, put this on your ‘to do” list and be sure to dress warm. Altitude (~8000’), darkness and wind make a chilly combination—even in lower left Texas.
Saturday pictures
Day 2: When Did Breakfast Become A Drug?
We woke earlier than we wanted the next morning. Seems our fellow hotel guests were bicyclers anticipating their upcoming endorphin highs – sounded like about a dozen of them in the hallway “good morning’ing” each other and inquiring “Did you sleep well?”. We wanted to yell out that we hadn’t, but instead minded our manners. Got up and encountered the highest shower head I had ever seen. Must have been close to 9’ tall—certainly seemed out of proportion to the size of the bedroom!
Thankfully, the H. L. Dining Room was not open for breakfast. We ventured across the street to “The Drugstore” whose only merchandise was breakfast and lunch (and the obligatory gift crapola). We settled in and enjoyed the best (and biggest) breakfast we’ve had in a long, long time. I’d recommend the “Drugstore Special” to anyone—particularly the H. L Dining Room. The two pieces of ham that accompanied the eggs and wheatberry toast positively would have embarrassed the two thin pork chops from my last meal. Breakfast may not be a drug, but it certainly could become habit forming here!
We wandered next door into the lobby of the Harvard Hotel where we met Rick, the lonely manager who was more than happy to provide a personal tour of the facility. We discovered huge, bordering on suite-like, rooms (our seven pillows would be lost in here). Learned the hotel had only been built a couple of years ago and is one of the business units of the Sproul Ranch, which also provides Harvard University a location for their radio telescope on the outskirts of town. Very competitive rates – we definitely will stay here during our next visit to the area.
Then it was off to do all the stuff there is to do in Ft. Davis, which is primarily to see old Ft. Davis, a National Historic Park. It was established in 1852 to protect the early pioneers and other invaders traveling on the San Antonio-El Paso Overland Road from the region’s Indians/insurgents. We learned that at one time over 800 cavalry were stationed here. The site was selected for the local availability of water, wood, grass for grazing (800 Buffalo Soldiers require about as many horses) and cool air—rather than for it’s strategic location to fight Indians. The most impressive remaining feature of the fort was the replica row of officers’ quarters situated in front of an equally impressive sandstone mesa. The (large) hospital had also been rebuilt on its original site. We were impressed with the original foresight to locate it as far away from their military cemetery as they could. We hiked up the trail to the top of the mesa where we gazed down on both Ft Davis’s. From up there it was easy to see the original row of officers’ quarters was built along a line that pointed true north. The re-built line followed magnetic north. The park ranger could not offer an explanation why.
From the fort it was a short drive to Indian Lodge State Park (perhaps there exists a politically correct need to offer equal billing to the Indians?). We discovered a very nice appearing white motel-type unit with the best view I’ve ever seen from a state-owned swimming pool. We also discovered the existence of their Black Bear Restaurant. The Park Ranger bragged on the menu (“if you like liver & onions, it’s better than Luby’s”. We wondered where the nearest Luby’s Cafeteria could be that conjured up this comparison).
We then set off on a 75 mile scenic loop drive (as if we needed to add more miles to our itinerary). Beautiful countryside and smooth blacktop gave us a taste of what we were about to experience when we finally got to our ultimate destination. We passed our fellow hotel guests/bicyclers who were doing the same loop on two wheels. They didn’t look as enthusiastic as they sounded a few hours ago! Actually they looked exhausted.
Took a short nap upon our return to the Hotel Limpia and rested up before tackling the “chicken fried steak” at the Black Bear. While not liver and onions, it was still as good as Luby’s. Then back to the Limpia to relax in the courtyard with Tuxedo, the hotel’s mascot mouser, and watch the bicyclers straggle in. We went to bed feeling rather assured of a quieter morning on the morrow.
Sunday pictures
Thankfully, the H. L. Dining Room was not open for breakfast. We ventured across the street to “The Drugstore” whose only merchandise was breakfast and lunch (and the obligatory gift crapola). We settled in and enjoyed the best (and biggest) breakfast we’ve had in a long, long time. I’d recommend the “Drugstore Special” to anyone—particularly the H. L Dining Room. The two pieces of ham that accompanied the eggs and wheatberry toast positively would have embarrassed the two thin pork chops from my last meal. Breakfast may not be a drug, but it certainly could become habit forming here!
We wandered next door into the lobby of the Harvard Hotel where we met Rick, the lonely manager who was more than happy to provide a personal tour of the facility. We discovered huge, bordering on suite-like, rooms (our seven pillows would be lost in here). Learned the hotel had only been built a couple of years ago and is one of the business units of the Sproul Ranch, which also provides Harvard University a location for their radio telescope on the outskirts of town. Very competitive rates – we definitely will stay here during our next visit to the area.
Then it was off to do all the stuff there is to do in Ft. Davis, which is primarily to see old Ft. Davis, a National Historic Park. It was established in 1852 to protect the early pioneers and other invaders traveling on the San Antonio-El Paso Overland Road from the region’s Indians/insurgents. We learned that at one time over 800 cavalry were stationed here. The site was selected for the local availability of water, wood, grass for grazing (800 Buffalo Soldiers require about as many horses) and cool air—rather than for it’s strategic location to fight Indians. The most impressive remaining feature of the fort was the replica row of officers’ quarters situated in front of an equally impressive sandstone mesa. The (large) hospital had also been rebuilt on its original site. We were impressed with the original foresight to locate it as far away from their military cemetery as they could. We hiked up the trail to the top of the mesa where we gazed down on both Ft Davis’s. From up there it was easy to see the original row of officers’ quarters was built along a line that pointed true north. The re-built line followed magnetic north. The park ranger could not offer an explanation why.
From the fort it was a short drive to Indian Lodge State Park (perhaps there exists a politically correct need to offer equal billing to the Indians?). We discovered a very nice appearing white motel-type unit with the best view I’ve ever seen from a state-owned swimming pool. We also discovered the existence of their Black Bear Restaurant. The Park Ranger bragged on the menu (“if you like liver & onions, it’s better than Luby’s”. We wondered where the nearest Luby’s Cafeteria could be that conjured up this comparison).
We then set off on a 75 mile scenic loop drive (as if we needed to add more miles to our itinerary). Beautiful countryside and smooth blacktop gave us a taste of what we were about to experience when we finally got to our ultimate destination. We passed our fellow hotel guests/bicyclers who were doing the same loop on two wheels. They didn’t look as enthusiastic as they sounded a few hours ago! Actually they looked exhausted.
Took a short nap upon our return to the Hotel Limpia and rested up before tackling the “chicken fried steak” at the Black Bear. While not liver and onions, it was still as good as Luby’s. Then back to the Limpia to relax in the courtyard with Tuxedo, the hotel’s mascot mouser, and watch the bicyclers straggle in. We went to bed feeling rather assured of a quieter morning on the morrow.
Sunday pictures
Day 3: Big Bend or Bust
We got a more humane start on the day, loaded up our Pony and departed for Marfa. No Drugstore for breakfast because the Big D News article highly recommended we have breakfast at The Brown Recluse Restaurant to enjoy one of their famous cinnamon rolls. The article made no mention that the place was only open Thursday through Sunday (as we discovered, this being a Monday morning). So we instead stopped in the famous Paisano Hotel, a sister property of the Limpia to get an alternate recommendation. This prompted a debate between the gift store manager and the desk clerk. The feisty gift store manager, a woman approaching maybe 80, won and we headed off to break our fast at Conchito’s. We found it easy enough (it was 3 blocks from the Recluse) but we had totally overlooked it, or perhaps more properly, had looked past it. We would not have opened the plywood door or sat at one of the 5 tables if we had not been directed to it. It was good enough, although not quite Drugstore quality.
Marfa has become somewhat a haven for the “Arts” in this part of the world – but we also discovered that the Arts are closed in Marfa on Mondays too. It appears the creative seeds were planted here when the classic film GIANT (with bad boy heart-throb James Dean) was filmed nearby. The Paisano Hotel became the base for the film’s production. The other thing Marfa is known for is its “Mystery Lights,” supposedly a supernatural phenomenon that occurs occasionally often enough. Personally, I think it’s a combination of the Observatory’s Constellation Tour’s green lasers and the consumption of products from nearby Luz de Estrella Winery (we can now attest that their whites and blushes are very good).
We had one more county courthouse to count before getting to Big Bend. Alpine is the seat of Brewster County which boasts of being the largest (geographically speaking) in Texas [Marfa was the home of Presidio County; Ft. Davis was headquarters for Jeff Davis County]. Alpine has many attractions: it is home to Sul Ross State University, the alma mater of Dan Blocker (who played Hoss in the TV show Bonanza. It is the birthplace of the Reata Restaurant (gourmet cowboy cusine we last experienced in Ft. Worth); It has Kokernot Field (our guidebook said it was modeled on Chicago’s Wrigley Field – after seeing it, my BBL decided the guidebook’s author probably sees Marfa’s Mystery Lights more than anyone else); Amtrak also stops here; and, oh yeah, they have a Sonic drive-in with a 2-4pm happy hour.
Gourmet fed, happy hour refreshed with diet limeades, and a full tank of gas, we busted out of Alpine toward Big Bend ~70 miles away (but still in Brewster County). On the way we did a Terlingua ghost town drive-by, but didn’t see any chili. Pulled into Big Bend’s Chisos Mountain Lodge about 4:30 and checked into Room 208 – the only room available when I made the reservation 3 weeks earlier. No phone, no TV, but one each of a small refrigerator and microwave, and two beds. Do we know how to celebrate our 35th anniversary or what?!
Monday pictures
Marfa has become somewhat a haven for the “Arts” in this part of the world – but we also discovered that the Arts are closed in Marfa on Mondays too. It appears the creative seeds were planted here when the classic film GIANT (with bad boy heart-throb James Dean) was filmed nearby. The Paisano Hotel became the base for the film’s production. The other thing Marfa is known for is its “Mystery Lights,” supposedly a supernatural phenomenon that occurs occasionally often enough. Personally, I think it’s a combination of the Observatory’s Constellation Tour’s green lasers and the consumption of products from nearby Luz de Estrella Winery (we can now attest that their whites and blushes are very good).
We had one more county courthouse to count before getting to Big Bend. Alpine is the seat of Brewster County which boasts of being the largest (geographically speaking) in Texas [Marfa was the home of Presidio County; Ft. Davis was headquarters for Jeff Davis County]. Alpine has many attractions: it is home to Sul Ross State University, the alma mater of Dan Blocker (who played Hoss in the TV show Bonanza. It is the birthplace of the Reata Restaurant (gourmet cowboy cusine we last experienced in Ft. Worth); It has Kokernot Field (our guidebook said it was modeled on Chicago’s Wrigley Field – after seeing it, my BBL decided the guidebook’s author probably sees Marfa’s Mystery Lights more than anyone else); Amtrak also stops here; and, oh yeah, they have a Sonic drive-in with a 2-4pm happy hour.
Gourmet fed, happy hour refreshed with diet limeades, and a full tank of gas, we busted out of Alpine toward Big Bend ~70 miles away (but still in Brewster County). On the way we did a Terlingua ghost town drive-by, but didn’t see any chili. Pulled into Big Bend’s Chisos Mountain Lodge about 4:30 and checked into Room 208 – the only room available when I made the reservation 3 weeks earlier. No phone, no TV, but one each of a small refrigerator and microwave, and two beds. Do we know how to celebrate our 35th anniversary or what?!
Monday pictures
Days 4, 5 & 6: Best Medicine—Take 2 Trails A Day
A couple of days ago when we took our first hike in Ft. Davis, my BBL asked, with a small but happy tear in her eye, if six to nine months ago I could have envisioned us doing this (hiking) again for our anniversary trip. That was 3 cranial operations and a whole lot of recovery, PT and OT therapy ago. When viewed from that perspective, it certainly is a testament to how far we’ve come since those dark days. We once again are so grateful for all who pulled and prayed for us along the way.
My BBL selected the trails we would attempt while here—nothing more challenging than “moderate.” Several trails were closed due to bear activity–it apparently is a banner year for cubs (but not the baseball kind). We were told that 7 baby bears had been spotted. But there were plenty of beautiful trails open to us. I estimate we hiked about 5 miles each day. We’ll let the pictures do the talking.
Tuesday pictures
Wednesday pictures (the Rio Grande was at flood stage—this was as close as we could get)
Thursday pictures
We were sad to have to leave but vowed we will return again. We ended Day 5 at the Gage Hotel in Marathon – another 70 mile destination from the park, but still within the confines of Brewster County.
Upon our arrival, we popped into the Gage’s White Buffalo Cantina for some chips and salsa ($4) and their “signature” margaritas ($8). They had run out of salsa but offered us the alternative of free chips if we bought one of their large bottles of salsa ($5). Strange. And, unfortunately, the margaritas were the worst. When we told the bartender we had no brand preference, he must have interpreted our statement as “hold the tequila.” We gave him the leftover salsa as a tip. However, only fifty feet away we had the best dinner at their restaurant. Hands down, the best meal we’ve had in a long time. Huge walnut crusted scallops, shrimp and a bison ribeye so tender we could cut it with a fork. Strange.
My BBL selected the trails we would attempt while here—nothing more challenging than “moderate.” Several trails were closed due to bear activity–it apparently is a banner year for cubs (but not the baseball kind). We were told that 7 baby bears had been spotted. But there were plenty of beautiful trails open to us. I estimate we hiked about 5 miles each day. We’ll let the pictures do the talking.
Tuesday pictures
Wednesday pictures (the Rio Grande was at flood stage—this was as close as we could get)
Thursday pictures
We were sad to have to leave but vowed we will return again. We ended Day 5 at the Gage Hotel in Marathon – another 70 mile destination from the park, but still within the confines of Brewster County.
Upon our arrival, we popped into the Gage’s White Buffalo Cantina for some chips and salsa ($4) and their “signature” margaritas ($8). They had run out of salsa but offered us the alternative of free chips if we bought one of their large bottles of salsa ($5). Strange. And, unfortunately, the margaritas were the worst. When we told the bartender we had no brand preference, he must have interpreted our statement as “hold the tequila.” We gave him the leftover salsa as a tip. However, only fifty feet away we had the best dinner at their restaurant. Hands down, the best meal we’ve had in a long time. Huge walnut crusted scallops, shrimp and a bison ribeye so tender we could cut it with a fork. Strange.
Day 7: Park The Pony
About 2am we discovered why the Gage Hotel provides complimentary ear plugs in the room. The hotel is literally across the street from the mainline of the Union Pacific RR. On an intellectual basis it’s easy to understand that the town and the hotel exist because of the railroad; however, the first time you hear the freight train whistling its way past your room, you wonder why they built the hotel so darn close to the tracks!
Our room #39 was located in the Portales annex of the hotel. It provided a beautiful and peaceful sanctuary when a train wasn’t around—quite unique. The room itself had a stocked fireplace and thick adobe walls with wood shutters that darkened the room very effectively.
This was our designated day to “veg.” We decided that the Mustang needed a rest too so it stayed parked all day while we explored Marathon on foot (which didn’t take all that long). The town is laid out very logically, if somewhat un-creatively. North-South roads are Avenues A, B, C, D, etc. while East-West roads are First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth and Sixth Streets. The Elementary and High Schools are way up around Fifth and Sixth Streets (go a block further to get to the six-man football field). Our waitress for dinner this day was a sophomore here. Her class totaled three people. Her goal was to graduate valedictorian and get the hell out of Marathon (to attend UConn). But I get ahead of myself.
Our first breakfast attempt was at Shirley’s Burnt Biscuit Bakery, two blocks from the hotel. Isn’t that a great name for a restaurant? Unfortunately, their breakfast sandwiches consisted of pre-made Saran wrapped things that you could warm up in their microwave. Reminded me of the breakfast offering at a 7-11. We backtracked to Johnny B’s, an establishment only open from 7-11am. Had some great blueberry pancakes and managed to stay under their limit of three refills on the coffee.
Next stop was the bookstore back down the block. The owner is also the custodian of the town museum and library, which seems perfectly rational. We bought a book on CD and , in turn, were offered the key for a personal visit, but we declined as we had a much too busy schedule to dawdle in a museum/library. Back we went to relax in the Portales area outside our room. Got acquainted with the Gage’s no-name cat who insisted upon being paid some attention. Then we walked all the way over to The French Market (French refers to a surname, not a nation) where we split a deli sandwich while I made my BBL’s day by letting her slaughter me at Scrabble. Then I required a nap to help me recover from such a hectic pace.
Before you knew it, it was time to relax again, then walk all the way to the Courtyard Café, an annex of the Marathon Motel & RV Park, which is the Gage’s competition. Along the way we passed a most remarkably painted garage door—a perfect five-pointed star in a circle. It must have taken longer to paint this than it did to build the garage! At the Café we met the aforementioned student and had our last supper in Brewster County – a very Texan sliced brisket and baked potato. Also took my last sunset pictures as the sun set behind the Glass Mountains.
Friday pictures
Our room #39 was located in the Portales annex of the hotel. It provided a beautiful and peaceful sanctuary when a train wasn’t around—quite unique. The room itself had a stocked fireplace and thick adobe walls with wood shutters that darkened the room very effectively.
This was our designated day to “veg.” We decided that the Mustang needed a rest too so it stayed parked all day while we explored Marathon on foot (which didn’t take all that long). The town is laid out very logically, if somewhat un-creatively. North-South roads are Avenues A, B, C, D, etc. while East-West roads are First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth and Sixth Streets. The Elementary and High Schools are way up around Fifth and Sixth Streets (go a block further to get to the six-man football field). Our waitress for dinner this day was a sophomore here. Her class totaled three people. Her goal was to graduate valedictorian and get the hell out of Marathon (to attend UConn). But I get ahead of myself.
Our first breakfast attempt was at Shirley’s Burnt Biscuit Bakery, two blocks from the hotel. Isn’t that a great name for a restaurant? Unfortunately, their breakfast sandwiches consisted of pre-made Saran wrapped things that you could warm up in their microwave. Reminded me of the breakfast offering at a 7-11. We backtracked to Johnny B’s, an establishment only open from 7-11am. Had some great blueberry pancakes and managed to stay under their limit of three refills on the coffee.
Next stop was the bookstore back down the block. The owner is also the custodian of the town museum and library, which seems perfectly rational. We bought a book on CD and , in turn, were offered the key for a personal visit, but we declined as we had a much too busy schedule to dawdle in a museum/library. Back we went to relax in the Portales area outside our room. Got acquainted with the Gage’s no-name cat who insisted upon being paid some attention. Then we walked all the way over to The French Market (French refers to a surname, not a nation) where we split a deli sandwich while I made my BBL’s day by letting her slaughter me at Scrabble. Then I required a nap to help me recover from such a hectic pace.
Before you knew it, it was time to relax again, then walk all the way to the Courtyard Café, an annex of the Marathon Motel & RV Park, which is the Gage’s competition. Along the way we passed a most remarkably painted garage door—a perfect five-pointed star in a circle. It must have taken longer to paint this than it did to build the garage! At the Café we met the aforementioned student and had our last supper in Brewster County – a very Texan sliced brisket and baked potato. Also took my last sunset pictures as the sun set behind the Glass Mountains.
Friday pictures
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