Spending Christmas With Your Family Can Save Your Life

We have a mechanic down the road from us.  D. is one of those guys that can fix anything from a blender to a D-8 Cat. He has worked for years from a little shop he built with the help of friends.

A couple of years ago he and his wife built a lakeside retirement home. They did away with the trailer they had near by and D. moved a little travel tralier in for a place to stay during the week. He would arrive Monday morning and be gone by noon Friday.

We have been having a pretty bad drought the last couple of years and a lot of trees have died. Every time we have high winds we lose a few more dead branches. A really big wind storm can knock down dead trees.

Where am I going with this, you might asked? Just a reminder that spending Christmas Eve and or Christmas day with your family can save your life.

That tree is on top of what used to be the bedroom.

Time to get myself into trouble

It has been too long since I posted here. Again, no excuses. I have been wondering how I was going to get back into the fray.  How about by getting in trouble with half the folks out there.

Like everyone else I was horrified by the shootings at Sandy Hook. I am not alone in acknowledging there isn't a gun law in the world that would have prevented this tragedy. This 'person' broke a bag full of laws to do what he did, and they didn't accomplish a thing.

There is a basic problem with the approach society currently takes.  When most people see a sign that says GUN FREE ZONE they think "I can't take a gun in here". That includes me. When monsters like the 'person' at Sandy Hook see these signs then think, "SAFE HUNTING GROUND".

Assist. Principal Myrick didn't like this situation. His actions, that probably got him fired in liberal happy day and age, prevented one such tragedy.

I think we can prevent a lot more!

Just about every school in the country has on it's staff and faculty former police and military with weapons training. Many of them would be more than willing to keep weapons in a safely secured location in their class room. The students need not know the weapons are there, unless...

We already have teachers willingly sacrificing their lives to defend their students. Why don't we give them the means to save their lives as well?

I imagine if this were to happen some schools would allow the staff to be armed, and others would not.

Which schools do you think the monsters would pick. I know which schools I want my grandchildren in.

I Hate Cathaeters

I hate cathaeters!

 

I understand what they do.

 

I understand why they are important in the type of surgery I had.

 

Perhaps having one for a couple of days wouldn't be too bad.

 

Having one for fifteen days

 

SUCKS.

 

If you have never had a cathaeter

 

Hit the prayer bones and give thanks.

 

I have worked out the hours until this thing will be romoved on October 30th.

 

After I publish this I will work out the minutes.

More Fun and Games with the Electric Company

More Fun and Games with the Electric Company

            Sunday afternoon the power went down.  Here we go again.

            Living where we do, Helene and I make a point of keeping a phone that doesn’t need a power unit.  I called the electric company to report the outage and was told according to their records (by recording of course) that the power had been out since 9:40 PM and they expected power to be restored by 6:00 PM.  They added that for more information I should go to their website, less call it w.cluesess.

            Helene and I were still discussing the electric company thinking the power had been out since the night before when the phone rang and it was my buddy, the electric company recording, telling me that according to their records the power had gone down at 4:21 PM (much better) and that including us 2100 customers were affected.  They still expected power to come back on by 6:00 PM. Once again they ended by saying that for more information I should go to their website, w.cluesess.

Normally I would fire up the generator, but since the surgery I’m not suppose to lift more than ten pounds until further notice.  I’m not sure how resistance on the recoil starter is, but since I have been known to move the 100 pound plus generator pulling it I figured we had best call Matt.

            About twenty minutes later the lights came back on – for all of thirty seconds.  A minute later my friend, the recording was back on the phone telling me that according to their records the power was back on.  If we were still without power I should call them at the following number.  I did so and went through the normal endless menu only to be told there were now some 1800 people without power, and now their records showed us to be among them.  They still estimated we would have power back by 6:00 PM.  Again I was advised that for more information I should go to their website, w.clueless.

            This was repeated at least twice more with the only change being the estimate for the lights coming back on being pushed back to 8:00PM.  Of course we were advised that for more information I should go to their website, w.clueless.

            This was when we made a disappointing discovery.  Usually I switch out the gasoline in the generator every three months.  But combination of drastically reduced income, sky rocketing fuel prices and uncovered surgery cost I haven’t been changing fuel.  This is my bad, but it meant this time around we were actually at the mercy of the electric company.  What a revolting development.

            Then two things happened.  The lights popped on for another thirty second teaser, and my friend the recording called to tell us we were among 1400 people without power, and they were now guessing the lights might be back on by 10:00 PM.  Again, for more information I should go to their website, w.clueless.

            This was the last straw.  I do not worship air-conditioning as much as most, but these days I have surgical incisions healing.  I’m not sure how what effect a night in the sauna we call Central Texas would have on them.  I could also see that Helene was suffering.  For the first time since we came to HomePlace we bugged out due to a lack of air conditioning.

            I will close with a challenge to the fool whispers among my readers.  Do any of you feel up to the challenge of explaining to the electric company – I imagine you can pick one at random- the problem of “for more information go to their website, w.clueless.”

 

Be prepared to talk slowly and use little words.

Surgery

Back in May I announced I had Prostate Cancer.  The doctor also said I was too heavy to have surgery to remove the prostate.  That launched me on a diet.  The first one I have ever taken seriously in my life.

As time went on I slipped off the straight and narrow from time to time but made a discovery.  The success of the diet wasn't so much a testiment to the supervised fast I was on as it was an indictment of the way I used to eat.  One piece of fried chicken became a guilty pleasure.  I didn't need four, with two mashed potatoes...and gravy.

By September I has lost sixty five pounds.  The Doctor scheduled me to have a prostatectomy on October 15.  We arrived at the Medical Center at 5:30 AM and got all the paperwork taken care of.  Finally I went in to the little room, changed into the hospital gown and put my fate in the hand of the doctors and God.

The surgery was prefromed as scheduled.  I had a superb team working on me.  I expected great discomfort when I woke up, but that didn't happen.

This was mainly due to the pain meds I know, but they did it right.  Most of Monday was spent drifting in and out of lala land.  I have no memory of many of the folks that came to see me.  Sorry about that folks.  Because of that fuzzy state of affairs I wasn't sure what I had heard from the doctor until he came back on Tuesday to look me over one more time before sending me home.

Something I have not shared here earlier was that I had been told I was not looking at a cure, but a long fight.  Due to the aggressive nature of my cancer, and the size of the mass that appeared on the sonogram it was probably not contained in the prostate.  This was going to be round one.

Fine - bring it on!

But the report from the doctor was that the female hormone implant (Yes guys, you too can exerience hot flashes!) had done a good job of shrinking the tumor and the prostate.

What I hadn't expected to hear was that there was on sign of the tumor penetrating the prostate wall.  It appeared to be cantained.  The doctor took a number of samples, and found nothing malignant in the ones he had recieved results on.  I don't want to jinx it, but he may have gotten it all.

The doctor is good, and I take nothing away from him.  I also think the prayers, candles, drums and good thoughts from family and friends went a long way toward helping me out here.  I've been like the guy in the fox hole that is wearing a cross, a star of David, Ankh, Turkish moon, and Pentagram.  I'll take all the help I can get.  I want to thank everyone who appealed to the powers that be on my behalf.

I go back in two weeks for the follow up.  I'll let you know what I learn then.

 

Two Photograpys

 

I found this on Facebook a couple of days ago. It reminded me of another photograph I had seen a while back.



The W.A.S.P. were one of the great sucess scories of World War Two.  The flew everything - and flew it well.

Imagine if these women, and others like them, had been allowed to keep flying military aircraft in an unbroken chain from this photograph to the first one. 

Eye Protection

A few days ago I recieved the following E-Mail from Paul at Lucky Gunner:

Hey Art
Andrew & I tested both cheap and expensive ballistic eye protection,
"box-o-truth" style, to see how well they stand up to hardcore damage.

Many sryofoam heads later, we learn't that older lenses are much more
easily broken (probably because of exposure to UV light), and cheap eyepro is
cheap for a reason!

Because of these tests, I have decided to upgrade the cheap eyewear I carry
in my range bag for guests.

If you think your readers would find this interesting, perhaps you could
share it on your blog.

Kind regards,
Paul

It certainly makes me think twice about the eye protection my guest and I have been using here at HomePlace. I believe you will find this well worth checking out.

Art

http://www.luckygunner.com/labs/eye-protection-shooting-glasses-review/

Remember and Treasure

This post is unforgivably late. Several thing that demanded my attention bottle necked and chose today to do it.

We set aside this day to remember our fallen Military Hero's be they family, friends or strangers who paid the ultimate price for our freedom. When we think of those who went before us it's impossible to not include others who never wore a uniform. I don't think the service men and women mind that we honor all of our fallen at the same time.

One way I chose to spend the day is to treasure the loved ones still with us. Make sure the children know the stories of generations before them. Remember family is more than blood.

Most of all don't assume those here today will still be here the next time you want to see them. All too often they are not. Don't be lulled into believing age has anything to do with the time a person has left. I wish it were that simple. We all have things we have been intending to say to loved ones be it a child, friend, parent or wife.

The only time you're sure you have is now.

Monsters

I remember watching monster movies as a kid. King Kong and Godzilla didn’t scare me that much. They were sixty feet tall for crying out loud! You could see them coming for miles. I figured anyone they caught had it coming.

Vampires and Werewolves scared the hell out of me. They could hide under my bed or in my closet. That didn’t keep me out of the movies (still doesn’t) but I paid for it.

What’s with this business about Vampires having to be invited into your house? Once they are, you can’t keep them out. Then I saw an old movie when I was a kid in Nevada where a vampire looked down a door mat that said "Welcome" and replied "Thank you" and went in. I don't think my Mother ever knew why our door mats that said welcome either disappeared or got something spilled on them.

Those monsters were scary, but they were fun. Other monsters are not. I do what I can to guard against home invaders and have shown folks how they can protect themselves against stalkers. Regardless how well you prepare bad things still happen.

There are other monsters, one that has haunted me since I was old enough to grasp its existence. This one puts Godzilla, and Vampires, and even home invaders to shame.

Cancer is the monster that hides inside me. I had known of it even as a child, but it was something terrible that happened to someone else. There are different kinds of cancer. In my twenties I watched a friend in his thirties get eaten alive with it in a matter of months.

A few years ago I sat in a hospital room and watched my Mother die by inches. Her last week she was gone, but the body was still breathing. I held her hand, looked into sightless eyes, and remembered the woman she had been.

Not long ago I got the news myself. It was all I could do not to go screaming into the woods when the doctor told me I was positive for prostate cancer. The good news (and trust me friends and neighbors – that was a hard sell) is that prostate cancer is very slow moving. I now realize that rather than months I still have years even if it goes untreated. I will assure you all now I have not wasted any time with my doctor even discussing not seeking treatment.

The doctor assures me we caught it early enough for treatment. He says I’m young (nice to know someone considers 59 young) and in reasonably good health. We discussed options.

To me, the only realistic option is surgery, but the doctor assures me I am too fat to survive it at the moment. I guess he knows what he’s talking about.

So…I am now on the Nutrimed diet system. This is more a supervised fast than a diet. My regular doctor assures me it’s better than starvation. I’ll get back to you on that. The most telling aspect of the situation, for folks who have known me, is that I haven’t been tempted to cheat – even once.

I don’t plan to make this blog a place to whine about my problems, but there will be a new topic heading that deals with my new battle from time to time.

I promise the next post will be much more fun and interesting.

Is Anyone Out There?

I have a problem I hope someone can help me with.  For reasons I don't understand I can no longer access the analytics for this Blog.

For those of you not familiar with them, analytics provide a wealth of information.  I can see how many folks have visited the blog each day, week, month, and even for the last year.  I can see which articles have been most popular.  I can tell where the folks are coming from.  I owe much of what success I have to James at Hellinahandbasket and Zack at The Next Chapter.

I was never surprised to discover my largest concentraton of readers are from Texas.  I was surprised, not unpleasently, to discover the next higest concentration of readers is consistently from New York State.

I am pleased to say I have readers from all over the world.  Most of the time the majority are from the United States.  The day I posted Spitfires on a Mission it was well recieved, but that night there were more readers from Germany than anywhere else.  That was the only time that has happened.

There are changes taking place on Blogger that I am trying to cope with, but I need help.  If anyone can tell me what happened to the analytics link and how to get there I would be greatful.  I would contact Blogger with this question, but as far as I can tell there is no way to do so.

So, in the meantime, if folks could drop me a comment to let me know your out there I would be grateful.

100 Years Ago Today - Harriet Quimby

Timing is everything, so discovered Harriet Quimby, an Aviation Pioneer you have probably never heard of.

Harriet was a force to be reckoned with. She was a journalist and theater critic in New York City in the early 1900’s. She even wrote early screen plays. When she discovered aviation she entered that world with the same intensity as everything else in her life.

Her first major accomplishment was getting flight training. The Wright Brothers did not teach women to fly in 1910. It seemed no one would even discuss it. At long last she convinced Alfred Moisant to be her instructor after meeting him and his sister Matilde. As a result Harriet was the first American Woman to become a licensed pilot. But the license was only the first step. She needed to make her mark in aviation and thought she knew just how to get everyone’s attention.

In March of 1912 Harriet set sail for England with a letter of introduction to Louis Bleriot. Louis had thrilled the world on July 25, 1909 when he became the first man to cross the English Channel in an aircraft of his own design. In a series of meetings Harriet persuaded him to lend her a Bleriot XI similar to (if not the) one he had crossed the Channel with himself.

This was a different era in aviation. The fifty horse power Bleriot had no ailerons. Banking was controlled by a system called wing warping, changing the shape of the wing to control roll. I’ve known a number of pilots who have flown older planes with this type of control. NO ONE prefers it! The plane Harriet used was equipped with a compass. Louis assured her he wished he had one when he made his crossing. Harriet was taught to use it the morning of her channel flight.

On April 16, 1912 Harriet took off in the Bleriot XI for the first time and headed across the English Channel. The weather was dismal, but she plowed on through poor visibility and fog. Louis Bleriot’s flight took thirty seven minutes. Fifty nine minutes after Harriet took off she touched down near Hardelot, France. The crowd greeted her wildly, but that was about the only recognition she received.

Timing is everything.

You must remember dear reader; the RMS Titanic had just sunk the day before. News papers all over the world were printing every scrap on information they could find and the public was clamoring for more. Harriet did have enough clout with in New York to have the story run, but the best they could manage was page 17 in the New York Times.

Harriet Quimby would have overcome this in time, but that was a luxury she didn’t have. Three months later to the day - July 16, 1912 – she was involved in a fatal flying accident. One can only wonder what she could have accomplished with more time.

100 Years Ago Tonight – Titanic

We have heard the story all our lives. 100 years ago tonight, on April 14, 1912 at eleven forty PM, the RMS Titanic stuck a glancing blow on an Iceberg 375 miles south of Newfoundland. It was actually on April 15, 1912 the ship “not even God could sink” went down. She was four days into her maiden voyage. Two hours and forty minutes after the iceberg strike she slipped beneath the waves taking the lives of 1,514 people in the process. I will not retell the story here. I am sure others can and will do that. I am more interested in the effect Titanic’s legend has had on our lives.

Titanic was more famous in death than she ever would have been in life. Over the years there have been hundreds of articles, books TV Specials and Movies to keep the story alive. The 710 survivors were haunted for the rest of their lives by a cruel celebrity. I can remember as a child seeing news stories about reunions of the survivors, often on the anniversary of
the sinking.

The last survivor, Millvina Dean, passed away in 2009 at the
age of 97. She was two months old when she was lowered to a lifeboat in a sack and spent the rest of her life famous for something she had no memory of.

For more than seventy years the location of the ship was a mystery. That changed in 1985 when she was located in 12,415 feet of water. Since then the already thriving Titanic industry has swelled to include mining the debris field and high price submarine rides to visit the wreak.

Problems for the Titanic didn’t end with sinking. Due to the growth of iron-eating bacteria on the hull she is growing into the seabed. Visitors who want to see the Titanic still resembling the ship she was will probably need to visit in the next fifty years. Luckily the images will last forever.

Voting For or Against

It was four years ago I stood in line at a local convenience store waiting to pay for my gas and listening to folks talk about the upcoming election, not unlike today. I forget the exact question and my answer, but it was followed up by some coward in the back of the room piping up “You just don’t want a Black President!”

If he weren’t a coward I don’t think he would have wanted to stay anonymous. In the silence that followed I replied“I don’t have a problem with a Black President. I don’t have a problem with a Female President. I don’t want THIS Black or FemalePresident. Get Condoleezza Rice to run and I’ll vote for both.”

Of course that didn’t happen, and the folks in the crowd considered that answer to be as wrong as the earlier one. Truth is I don’t talk politics that much, other than gun rights. I trust no one is foggy where I stand on the second amendment. But the words of Edmund Burke burn in my ears – “All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.” With that said this is my first, and probably only, political blog.

This will be the eleventh time I have voted in a presidential election. In review I have faced a sad truth. I can count on one hand the times I voted for a candidate.

I’m not saying the times the guy I voted for won the election, but rather the times I have looked at the field of candidates and said “This is someone I can support.” Most of the time I have voted for a place holder, someone to put into office rather than the guy that scared the living hell out of me. As often as not I cast the vote with “God forgive me” on my lips. This may be one of those times.

I know many folks who make symbolic votes, writing in Mickey Mouse or voting for a candidate who can’t possibly win. I would beg folks not to take that route.

President Obama has done many things I am opposed to, but the handling of the health care plan makes my skin crawl. Our law makers were urged to vote for a two thousand page plan they had not read. The reasoning was that it was too important to delay. Just pass it! Once it’s law we can fix what we don’t like! The best part enough or our elected offices – “the people looking out for us in Washington”(?) bought into it.

And the fixing, that’s still going on and being fought every step of the way.

If all contracts were handled that way it would be a very interesting world.

I don’t want to think about what this man would be capable of as a lame duck.

News - Not Unexpeted

I got a call from my sister Alesia last Saturday (March 30). She told me my Aunt Frances, my fathers sister, had passed away that morning. This was not unexpected, but still sobering.

The world knew her most of her life as Mrs. Frances Fisher, a life long resident of Moore County, Texas. She married my Uncle Thurman in 1941, and they were only parted by World War Two until he passed away in 1996.

To me she was, and will always, be Aunt Tansy. For the life of me I can't recall where the nick name came from.

Aunt Tansy was the strong one who looked after those around her. She gave wise councle.

When we are young we expect parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles and cousins to be with us forever. All too often we don't realize what a treasure they are until they are gone.

We had Aunt Tansy for 93 years. The years ahead will be poorer for her absents.

God's speed Aunt Tansy. You were loved and will be missed.

Good-By Earl Scruggs

I felt a real sense of loss today when I learned Earl Scruggs had passed away. This may surprise a lot of folks, Country Western Music isn't really my thing. Having said that, I can lessen to a good Banjo picker all night long. I have never met anyone who didn't turn the radio up when FOGGY MOUNTAIN BREAKDOWN came on.

Being a child of the 50's and 60's my first introduction to Earl Scruggs and Lester Flatt was THE BEVERLY HILLBILLIES. In addition to writing and performing The Ballad of Jed Clampet Earl and Lester made a number of guest appearances on the show.

Go with God Earl. Your gift of music will help us deal with the loss.

I like this

I like this.




I don't know that I have always lived up to the idea it expresses,




but I couldn't have said it better myself.

Granny Burnetts Airplane Book

The other day I was on E-Bay (a dangerous place according to my Wife) and found a delightful surprise. One of my searches turned up AMERICA’S FIGHTING PLANES by Reed Kinert. The amazing thing was that it was in Kindle format. I was overjoyed that a new generation would be exposed to this wonder book.

In World War Two my Uncle Jack Burnett went to the Aircorps as an aircraft mechanic. He wrote home strange letters speaking of Pt-19s, AT-6 and B-25s. My Grandfather bought a copy of this book on a business trip to Amarillo, Texas in order to read the code.

My Cousin Eddie read to me from this book at Granny Burnett’s farm. It was the first exposure I had to the planes that would become so important in my life. I’m afraid we grand kids wore that book out. I reattached the covers while working as a library assistant in high school. When Granny Burnett passed away that book went to Eddie – as it should have.

In 1994 I visited THE BOOK BUYERS SHOPE on Alabama Street in Houston, a place every bit as dangerous as E-Bay. I had not thought about Granny Burnett’s airplane book in twenty years at least. I had long since given up any chance of finding another. There on the shelf was the second copy I had seen in my life.

Nothing could ever take the place of Granny Burnett’s book, but I made this one special in another way. I take this book to the Men (and Women) who flew, and now fly, the planes described here. It’s a great ice breaker. Most of them honor me by signing the pages of the planes they flew.

As they thumb through the book two things happen. I have had a number of folks, when they spot performance figures listed here ask, “Weren’t they worried about this information getting into enemy hands?”

Friends and neighbors – they were counting on it! I have had a number of old timers laugh openly at the speeds, ranges and fuel capacities listed.

But the pictures also bring out the stories. Sometimes stories they haven’t thought about in years.

Assume it's loaded!

We are told from the time we start shooting to assume all firearms are loaded. When we're new shooters most of us are rigid about safety rules. Then, we become "old pro's" and don't sweat the small stuff.

This photo came to me from a friend in re-enacting. I will add quickly that it's not my shoe. I don't know who this is or when the photos were taken. According to the story that came with these photos the guy was testing the trigger on a handgun. It worked!

As bad as this looks the guy was lucky, the bullet - a .45 I believe - passed between the toes - after a fashion. It looks like a little bit of bone is showing on that big toe. When the shock wears off he ain't going to believe the pain.

As bad as the first photo looks, this one looks worse. It only takes a second of thoughtlessness for disaster to strike. The last time I wrote about a accidental discharge (It Only Takes One - 02/04/2010) a good man died.

Please be careful folks, this kind of thing happens in a split second you can never take back.

A Blinding Flashback!

Facebook offered up an unexpected treasure today. My little friend Scottie (6'4" and at the time I knew him you wouldn't believe the weight) was one of those rare companions who could be depended on to encourage bad ideas, support a reckless course of action and carry secrets to the grave. We have enough dirt on each other to assure there will be no survivors if it either of us starts talking.

Scott left Texas a few years ago and we had lost touch until Facebook. Today I found this:

I am pleased to report that the bean has been successfully extracted from X ear. It will, of course, be saved and produced at inopportune moments throughout the remainder of his life. :)

I have with held the lad's name as I am a firm believer that it is the parent's duty to embarrass their children. For other adults to do it feels like bullying. Still, this simple statement triggered a flood of memories.

I was already familur with the Winnemucca Nevada emergency room. I still sported the walking cast from my first (and thankfully only) adventure in broken bones. I had the names of friends and family spread across it's surface.

Since I wasn't able to move around as much as usual Mom had brought me some supplies to help pass the time. There were comic books, a new coloring book and crayons, and a pea shooter.

You need to understand I was never one of those punks that sat in class shooting spit wads at their classmates in the front of the room. I was the hapless kid that got caught the first time I chunked my eraser back at them after half a day of being the target.

I had the better part of a week with the pea shooter before the horrible accident. My little brother and I had gone to bed and I was doing the fiddeling kids do prior to drooping off to sleep. In my case, I was playing with a pea shooter pea.

Inquiring minds want to know. Will the pea shooter pea fit into a seven year olds ear? Yes it will. Will it come back out? I'm sure it will come back out. It's got to come out.

IT WON'T COME OUT!

I tried everything my desperate seven year old mind could think of. Nothing. So what happened if it stayed there? I had it on good authority it would take root and grow. That couldn't be good. And what if it took roots and my Dad had to pull it out? I was sure he could, he was really big! I was also sure it would hurt!

My Grand Parents could fix this. Problem, how could they get to Winnemucca from the Texas Panhandle before my folks woke up in the morning? Then I remembered I didn't know how to dial a long distance telephone number. Well, there was only one thing to do. I had to tell my Mom and Dad. They would know what to do, they knew everything.

Problem, telling my folks I had done something stupid. Worst problem, everyone was in bed. I would have to wake them up to tell them I did something stupid. With my life flashing before my eyes I clumped down the hall with my walking cast to face my doom.

I don't recall either of my parents laughing. Both got miles of amusment out of it later but that night they kept strait faces - after a fashion. They had more ideas about how to get the pea out than I had. My Dad had all kinds of ideas involving power tools that mom promptly shot down. I'm about half convinced that he was kidding, and Mom wouldn't let him do it.

At long last Dad called the emergency room and was told to bring me in. Mom stayed with the other kids while Dad took me to the Doctor that had set my leg.

Once we reached the emergence room things were anti-climatic. We were in the exam room less than a minute when the Doc. popped the pea out of my ear. I learned that day having the right tool is everything. The doctor told me not to go sticking things in my ear - I could break my ear drum. I never told anyone until tonight that I already did and thought I had.

There was no school the next day so the other kids were up when we got back home and Mom had hot chocolate ready. The night ended better than I would have thought possible. I was even allowed to keep the pea shooter.

I have written this for three reasons.

First, I was not the first kid in Winnemucca, Nevada to stick a pea shooter pea in my ear. The doctor told my Dad they averaged one child a day in the week the things had been on sale at TG&Y.

Second, I want Scott's son - known here as "X" - to know he was not the first kid to ever do that. I did it before his father was ever born.

Third, at some point in the future "X" will hear of this happening to another kid. It will be his turn to let that boy or girl know they are not the first to stick a pea shooter pea in their ear, and they will not be the last.

The Horseman Has Come And Gone

The Horseman visited last night. He came in darkness, and did not leave alone. Most of you who read this Blog will not know I was not Helene’s first husband, no need for you to. The son and daughter I sometimes refer to were from her first marriage. As far as I am concerned they are mine and I have no complaints, a statement I’m sure will be quoted back to me endlessly in the coming years.

Anyone who has ever gone through a divorce, or even watched one from the sidelines, knows there is drama. Everyone says things when they are angry. It wasn’t my place to add to the drama as long as Helene was safe. To Number One’s credit as loud as things got I was always able to stay in the background.

He didn’t like me much. I know - big surprise. The closest we ever came to conflict was when Helene and I would pick Matt up for weekend visits. It always followed the same routine. Number One would come to the workshop door and glair at me. I would smile and wave. Real grownup behavior on both sides. For the most part we made a point of avoiding each other. That worked for years.

Finally came a time that wouldn’t work. Tammy was graduating from Para-legal school. She bearded me in my den (literally) and told me her father would be at the ceremony and didn’t want a scene. I believe she came to me because she knew how well that would go over with her Dad. I told her I would behave as well as he did.

“What’s that suppose to mean?” she demanded.

“It means” I repeated “that I will behave Precisely as well as he does.”

It wasn’t the answer Tammy wanted but she knew it was the best she was going to get. The two families did not mix (Number One had remarried as well) at the ceremony. It concluded with both sets of parents watching her graduate, and without embarrassing Tammy.

The next occasion for us to be in the same place was the first birthday of Tammy’s daughter. Tammy and I had the same exchange, on the phone this time because Helene and I had left Houston for Central Texas.

As I remember it forty plus people gathered to watch an infant that had no idea what was happening smear birthday cake all over herself and everything she could reach. A tower of gifts that dwarfed the child was opened with the assistance of excited adults. As I am never without a knife I got the job of freeing the loot from its shipping crates.

It was Number One who came up with screw drivers and wire cutters for the more stubborn packing. It was the first and only time in the years we had “known” each other that we talked. The time passed pleasantly and ended cordially. That afternoon was the best friendship we could ever have expected to have. I would never see him again.

Health does not fail overnight. A few years ago my Grandmother passed in her sleep after losing ground for more than a year. A couple of years later my mother was taken by a slow cruel cancer. I spent a week watching her die by inches after she was no longer responsive. I will say without shame that in the end I was grateful to God for ending her suffering, while at the same time asking the almighty why it had to take so damn long when there was no way she would ever get better.

I will not go into details, but for Number One it was much worse. The kids can’t be helped through the grief process anymore than I could. Family helps by being there, but it is a wilderness everyone walks alone.

When we got the call Helene and I lit a candle for Number One. It was at the same time the least, and the most, we could do.

God’s speed Number One