I already dread work on Monday

"The trouble with my life is that I do not think I am cut out to sit behind a desk."--Howard Hughes

Storytime in parts

--Part XII--

In all the commotion Marilyn had not even realized she had stood up. Don walked over to her standing by the booth and said quietly, "Let's go." He started walking toward the kitchen. He looked back at her as if to ask if she was coming. She glanced once at the people by the door of the restaurant who were taking turns looking at her and Don and Jimbob. Nobody seemed to know what to do but there was alot of talking and alot of staring. She grabbed the plate of pancakes from her placemat and walked toward the kitchen.

Don was walking out the back door and nodded to the man who was doing the cooking. The cook nodded back to Don and went back to his grill without a word, oblivious to what was going on at the front of his establishment. Don kept the door open just long enough for Marilyn to scoot out and then he let it go and started walking through the back alley.

"Aren't you going to wait?", Marilyn asked incredulously.

"For what?"

"Well...the police, I guess."

"Do you want to wait for the cops?", Don asked and stopped walking.

Marilyn stopped too but then started walking even faster. Don smiled slightly as she caught up to him still carrying the plate of pancakes but now sporting a determined expression. They found Teddy around the corner and fed him the pancakes as they walked down the sidewalk. They walked several blocks with Marilyn's mind whirling about everything that was happening. It seemed like years since she had been home. She looked over at Teddy next to her. His coat looked dingy and ruffled. She looked down at her clothes that were filthy and then at the man next to her. She hardly knew this guy!

As if sensing her distress, Don slowed his pace.

"Let's sit down here for a minute and rest", he said and eased his lanky frame down to the curb. "I'm tired".

Marilyn followed but Teddy remained standing.

"Well, what now, Marilyn?", Don inquired.

"Whad'ya mean?", she stammered.

"Where are you going to go now?"

Marilyn thought for a second and tried to act like she had a plan. "Well, you see..."

In the pause, Don started talking. "I guess your momma must have really hated that Teddy, huh?"

Shocked out of her act, Marilyn turned to look at Don and said, "What? No, she loves Teddy! She thinks Teddy is great! And Teddy loves her, too!", she said defensively. "Why do you say that?"

"Oh, it must be your father, then. I guess he must hate dogs. That's why you left".

Marilyn shifted around so she could see his face. "No, no, no. He loves Teddy, too! In fact, he said Teddy is as good of a dog as he's seen and the best watchdog ever. Teddy knows when somebody bad is around. He can tell if somebody is bad or not. He growls at 'em. He would probably tear somebody up if they were mean to anybody in our family!"

As Don scratched Teddy behind the ear, Don said, "Hmm...well if they love Teddy so much, don't you think they are probably missing him about now? They probably wish he would come back home so he could protect them". He waited for a moment for that to set in and then said, "Dont'ya think?"

Marilyn looked at Teddy, trying not to let tears form in her eyes. He looked back at her and licked his lips and smiled like only Teddy could do.

"What has Teddy had to eat since you have been gone? Besides a few pancakes?", Don asked.

Don could barely hear the response. It was muffled and quiet. "Part of a candy bar..."

The three of them sat in silence for several minutes on the curb. A siren wailed in the distance and Teddy squirmed anxiously, trying to lick the tear rolling down Marilyn's cheek.

Finally a word.

"Maybe...maybe I should get Teddy home now." she said. "Momma and Daddy will be missing him. They need Teddy around the house, you know."

"I know."

My flag

I have to admit that I had not really thought about flying a flag until about 9/12/01. The day before really brought home to me and millions of other Americans the importance of my country and so, like so many others, I bought a flag and perched it out front of my house. I don't know how many flags I've had to replace now but I make sure that mine stays in good shape and keep a light on it at night. It has flown every day since then. It won't bring back three thousand-plus people but I haven't forgotten them.

A good day

No, I didn't use a shotgun. Let me explain. The reason the shots are all over the paper is because I was shooting right handed, left handed, one handed, two handed...I did everything except use a mirror over my shoulder. I practiced from all different distances and combinations of hands. I even practiced loading the magazine left handed and with my eyes closed. Loading it left handed was considerably more difficult than I expected. No, I didn't shoot with my eyes closed. I figured the other people on the range might not appreciate that. I concentrated on the target even when the guy two lanes over brought out the hand cannon and with the old man on the other side sweeping up my brass from around my feet. I'll admit it was hard to focus on my target when somebody started using their laser on their target and commenced rapid-firing like a maniac. Overall, it was a good day, with a trip to Cabela's to replenish my stock and a big ol' steak for dinner. Now, if I could just figure out how to do all that and ride my motorcyle at the same time...

I missed Bacon Day!

How come somebody didn't tell me that Bacon Day was yesterday? Did I miss the parade? Is there a Bacon Flag to fly? That explains why we are off work tomorrow! Well, let's at least all honor our country by having Bacon Explosions on the grill tomorrow!

Oh, great...

Now Baptists are trying to kill Obama with assault rifles. Well, that's pretty much how the media portrays it here. Thanks, you brain-dead hillbillies for making the rest of us look bad!

Black Label Shadow

I felt like an alcoholic who had been on the wagon for awhile and then fell off and realized it was better than he remembered. Muscle memory went a long way. My leg went over the seat and my foot rested instinctively on the foot peg. I didn't fumble with the key. Kickstand up, ignition on, blip the throttle, noise, vibration...mmm. Feels good. Memories start up with the engine.

Backing out of the driveway was tricky. I guess my leg is still technically broken. Maybe it's healed. Who knows? It doesn't hurt. I put my brace on just for good measure. I'm still a little weak at my knee. I eased out of the driveway and first-geared it to the corner. The alcoholic takes a small sip.

A couple more gears and I'm at the highway. I had planned on just going around the block but I rationalize that the bike needs a little more to keep the seals from drying out and the tires need a few revolutions to keep away dry rot. I'll just go to the first exit and turn around. It's not going to hurt anything. It's like taking a drink and holding it in your mouth for a second to enjoy the flavor.

The on-ramp has never made me smile before but this feels really good. I realized quickly how much difference the windshield made now that I have it off. The wind and noise increase but just add to the feeling of freedom; the feeling of different than normal and yet pleasing. My heartbeat increased as well. Second gear, third... fourth, yes, fifth. Oh, yeah, that's the stuff! I missed this! On the wagon for nearly two months but now I take a long, cool swig of speed until it runs breezy down my chin onto my shirt. The complicated conflict of warmth and coolness mix inside me and come out as a grin I can't stop.

Fifteen miles later, I pull back in the driveway tipsy from the experience but feeling so blessed in my natural high. Several times I have wondered if that beautiful bike and I would ever go down the highway together again and I thank the Lord again for his grace and mercy. I stagger (ok, limp) into the house and grab the camera to share with you my still-intoxicating, always faithful black hooch. Drink it in with me.

Better caption this one quick cuz I can't stand to look at it!

Caption this in German.

My friends are more photogenic than I am.

Trevor and Isaac mugging for the camera.

A little sand never hurt anybody!

Ashlyn is a friend of the family. She likes the beach.

Caption it if you need to...

Feelings. Nothing more than feelings.

"Funny", like "beauty", is in the eye of the beholder. What I consider funny, some people absolutely do not. Sometimes what everybody else thinks is funny, I do not. It's just how we are made, I guess. Sometimes I agree with the masses. I happen to think The Simpsons is still the funniest show on TV and evidently I'm not the only one since it is the longest running comedy on TV--20-something years now. Sometimes I don't agree with the masses. When Seinfeld went off the air I thought, "Good riddance". I think stupid funny is funny but not too stupid like some British comedies. Anyway, my taste in what is funny is not always like what everybody else thinks is funny.

I say this because not everybody gets my humor and I realize that sometimes I go overboard. Maybe it's how I grew up. As a kid, I and my friends would rag on each other unmercifully. Not much was held back and it made for some tense times along with the funny when somebody would say something that probably crossed the line and somebody would get their feelings hurt. What made it funny, though, was that thing that crossed the line was usually the thing that, after everybody made up, was the thing we ragged on that person the most about and it was even funnier then. Dysfunctional? Probably, but still funny and that was all that mattered.

Like alot of people, I kid the people I like. You know I consider you my friend when I insult you and call you names or say something mean. My wife understands that when I call her a smelly pirate hooker that I say it with the love that is reserved only for her. She's the only smelly pirate hooker in my life. That's a term of endearment only for her. She also gets "skank hide" and "lying jap" and some others that are only between us. Hopefully, if you are a friend of mine, you too can look forward to being called a bald-faced liar or a stupid Mexican. Or maybe I will make fun of your clothes or the way you walk. There's nothing wrong with your clothes or the way you walk! It's just my idea of funny. I didn't say it was right. I'm sure you are perfect and never say anything bad about anybody. I'm the only one.

I realized today that I don't think I have ever really had my feelings hurt. That hit me today like never before. Sure, I've gotten mad at people for doing something but I've never had the thought, "Wow, they really hurt my feelings!" In fact, I make fun of myself and think it's funny. I'm short, fat and bald. Tom Cruise, I ain't! At some point, I had to realize that and get over it. Oh, well! But because I've never had my feelings hurt, I don't always realize that not everybody thinks like I do and not everybody thinks things are funny like I do. Not everybody rags unmercifully on their friends like I do. I don't know why. It's probably best that they don't, come to think of it.

So, all of this to say that if I make fun of you or say something mean, it's because I like you. I'm not a mean-spirited kinda guy. I'm also not a "in touch with my feelings" kinda guy either so if I ask you if this is going to be a long story, or tell you I know you are gay because...whatever, then accept it as affection. Just don't get all mushy on me sweet-pants cuz it ain't like that with me. Cowboy-up fat boy! Does your sister know you're wearing her shoes? Do they sell those shirts for men? How does it feel to be the only...I mean...I like you. Have a nice day.

Already gone to the dogs

Michael Vick, Michael Vick, Michael Vick...I don't read, watch or listen to any sports and all I hear about is Michael Vick...back in the NFL...dog killer...best quarterback...highest paid...blah, blah, bladoggety, blah! Everybody knows his history of dog-fighting and prison and all that stuff and everybody is so up in arms about this killer returning to football and what a disgrace it is.

Here's my opinion and this comes from (if you couldn't tell from this blog, inluding the last post) a serious dog-lover: I think it was a good move to bring Vick back to football. I think it was very smart and will be a win-win situation for everybody. Seriously, why not? Why does it make a difference what he has done in the past or even what he is doing now? He plays a game for a living. He's an entertainer and he's good at it. He is not a role model and if your son looks up to these people so much that their personal lives are interfering with your son's emotional development then it is your responsibility to train your son (or even realize it for yourself, big boy) that these people, like actors and musicians are just for entertainment. Enjoy what they do when they are entertaining you but leave it at that. It would be good to realize that these people are usually messed up individuals and should not be listened to or watched when they are talking about anything but the entertainment they specialize in.

It was a good move to bring him back because everybody gets publicity this way and publicity is another word for money. Vick gets publicity which means more people, in the long-run, will be sitting in the bleachers. The anti-cruelty to animals people get publicity which means more interest (money) in their cause. The NFL gets publicity through this whole thing and like they say: even bad publicity is good publicity. The NFL indefinitely suspended Vick which made them look like good guys and now they have lifted the suspension which makes them look like good guys (go figure!) so they are sitting pretty.

In fact, I think the NFL should recruit directly from the prisons. Now, that would be entertaining! Pay them minimum wage and watch them play then when the game is over, lock 'em back up! Ticket prices go down because the salaries are down so low and now we can all afford to go see some serious smash-mouth football. I might even watch that! I think they already do that in hockey anyway.

Bo, Sara, Dori

I care not much for a man's religion whose dog and cat are not the better for it. --Abraham Lincoln

My friend Nancy

This is my friend Nancy. I'm sorry it has taken so long to put her picture up here but her husband Kirk (you remember Kirk) just sent me this picture of her. Nancy is a true friend and I just had to show my appreciation to her here. Nancy flew (see her wings?) up to Utah and she and my wife got me out of some hospital up there and brought me home. Not many friends would leave their job as president of the Baby Seal Protectors Society just to fetch me from some foreign state. I know that job doesn't pay much but it's her passion. In her spare time she teaches blind orphans in Nepal to read and write and was also the inspiration for the Victoria's Secret angel theme. Thank you, Nancy, for all that you have done for me and my wife and really, for the world. You are an angel!

Concealed carry

How many times have you thought to yourself, "Now where am I going to conceal this handgun in these tight clothes?" How about next to your belly button? Or just below your nipples. I hate to think about where he kept the ammo! Do you need a concealed carry license if you're not wearing anything? What else was in there that he forgot about? I bet that's where my receipt book is! Hey...where's Dori???

First and last time

At my age, there are not too many things that I am too cool to do but I found one yesterday. I told my wife I needed to go to Walmart and get a few things and I would be back in a few minutes. Evidently, I sometimes forget I'm on crutches because it wasn't until I walked into Walmart and went to grab a grocery basket that I realized that my hands were already full. I tried sort of bumping it with my chest but that didn't work and I tried a couple of other ways to do it but I finally was about to give up and just go home when the sweet little old greeter lady at the front door saw me and immediately said she would get a motorized cart.

"No, no, no!", I pleaded but it was too late. Here she came, pedal to the metal. I looked around to make sure I didn't know anybody and finally just got on. She even took my crutches. "Don't go too fast" she said seriously as I sped off at 1/10th of a mph. How embarrassing. The old, fat ladies on the other carts looked at me like I was a gangster on the wrong side of town. Little kids looked at me like I was the Elephant Man. Everybody else that saw me tried not to stare but I know they were trying to figure out why I was on there. The worst part was the certain people who pretended that I wasn't trying to get by and would just stand there in the way. I would have run them over but the cart just stopped whenever it hit something and they never even knew it hit them. They're lucky this time...and there will never be a next time. Even I'm too cool for that!

Why?

Three weeks ago today I woke up in the emergency room in Vernal, Utah. I didn't know at the time that it was Vernal, Utah. In fact, I wasn't even sure I was in a hospital. I just knew I wasn't on my motorcycle like I knew I should be. A concussion was keeping things mentally cloudy for me but after a few hours of being in and out of it, I finally realized that my leg was pretty messed up. It was the next day before I knew it was broken but I knew pretty quickly that this was going to be a big problem.

I didn't know where I was. I didn't know where my bike was. I didn't know where all my stuff was and didn't even know who did know. I have to admit that a wave of self-pity swept over me and I remember turning on my side and thinking to myself, "God, why would you do this to me?" and just as soon as I had the thought I realized how ridiculous that was! I knew the answer but couldn't help myself from asking the question.

The first and foremost answer to that question is that I don't know. Isaiah 55:8 says, "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the LORD." I don't know the answer and that in itself is an answer and I'm ok with that. How does the sun come up? Why do bad things happen to good people? Why do rabbits eat pellets but their poop is round? Why don't I have hair? (Ok, some of those questions are scientifically explainable but it doesn't mean I understand it.) I understand that I'm not ever going to understand some things.

Secondly: Why not me? Matthew 5:45 says, "He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous." Maybe God has allowed me to go through something like this so that I can relate to other people who have been in similar or worse situations and maybe I can even help them somehow. Maybe they need to see how God works in my life through this and they decide they might like to have Him work in their life in a similar way. Any ol' fool can have pity, Mr. T, but the Lord gives grace.

The third way I could answer the question of "Why would God do this to me?" is to ask myself what else could have happened. All that happened was that I broke my leg and had a concussion. I fell off of a moving motorcycle and that's all that happened! Talk about grace! I'm thinking about telling people some other story when they ask what happened because I'm tired of people telling me their motorcycle horror stories. Especially doctors! I know what could have happened but it didn't and I'm very grateful in a way that I wasn't before.

So, the question of "Why?" is a natural one, I think, but not necessary. Maybe I haven't broken any new ground here but nothing in my life has helped me to understand this as clearly as having this happen. The whole Book of Job is also a little more clear to me now, as well. I still don't understand the rabbit poop thing but some things are better left unknown. I hope that helps.

Caption this:

The sooner you add a caption the sooner I'll take it off the top of the page!

The Real Old Faithful!

I'm sure your Harley is a fine bike. I'm not going to put you down and say you don't ride a real bike just because you don't ride a Honda. I'll always wave to you as we pass bikes on the highway and I will never wear a t-shirt that belittles your manhood because your bike doesn't sound like mine. I will encourage you to do the smart thing and sell that loud, shaking hunk of wish-I-were-status and buy a Honda. With the money you save you can buy a helmet to cover that do-wrag wrapped peabrain of yours.

I put over 2,000 hard miles on her and she never once complained or failed to do what I asked going through the mountains on this past trip. It has over 30,000 miles on it total and has never given me a lick of trouble. It's as low-maintenance as an anvil but alot prettier.

I did learn something on this trip, though, and I hate to admit it but it shows how tough that bike is. I learned that, while it is always best to put the kickstand down when you get off, that is not a necessity. In fact, if you start to get off and you have not put down the kickstand it will help you off in a hurry! I stopped to adjust the load bundled on the back and just plain forgot to put the kickstand down. By the time I realized it was still up, it was too late and I wound up in the middle of the road squealing like a little girl. Evidently, when I tried to stop it from falling over, it was too late and all I did was wind up pulling the hamstring muscle in my left leg and the bike fell on my ankle. That was the second day of my trip and the rest of the time I had to pick up my leg by the pantsleg every time I got on or off of the bike.

I'm sure it didn't help the healing process when I broke my leg a week later but incredibly the bike seems to be in good shape even after being on the ground twice. My friend Ed called me in the hospital to tell me that he would pick up the bike while he was on vacation trailering his bike through the mountains and would bring it back at the end of his vacation. I haven't seen it in two weeks now. I bet Ed's bike is on the trailer right now and that Honda is carrying him through the mountains in style! For his sake, I hope he puts the kickstand down when he stops.

My Red Green look

Before my trip to the northland my mother was telling me how worried she was about me but got some consolation from my sister. My sister told her not to worry about me because nobody was going to mess with me because I "look mean". She said she knew I was sweet but I looked like somebody mean. I was almost offended at first but I've come to like that idea. Then today at work a lady said I was starting to look kinda scary. Hmm...My facial hair looks like Red Green's without the sideburns. I just have the drip-down, goatee, fu-manchu thing going but it's getting kinda out of hand. Red Green says, "If the women can't find you handsome, at least they can find you handy." And I say if they can't find me handy then at least I can scare 'em.

The obligatory pic of Old Faithful

Evidently Old Faithful erupts every 45-60 minutes. I walked up and waited about 60 seconds before it popped off. It lasted for about 5 minutes. I was interested for about 2. Too many people around.

Trail Ridge Road in Colorado

I don't see this kind of scene very often in Texas. Those are 5 mature bull elks chilling out by the road.

Rodeo time

Pinedale throws a mean rodeo. Also, the best setting for one. Of course, my cell phone didn't capture the snow-covered mountains in the background. Use your imagination. Old Glory never looked better!

Rendezvous parade in Pinedale, Wyoming

I just thought this was a good picture of a cute little girl obviously very proud to ride her bald-faced horse in the parade. You have to understand that for the other 51 weeks of the year there is not much going on in Pinedale but this weekend the little town goes all out. I felt like such a dork taking pictures at the parade but I had fun! Every single person I met was extremely nice.

Pinedale, Wyoming

Rendezvous is obviously not just for the mountain men.

Moonrise over Wyoming

You're wondering where my pictures are of the sunrise, aren't you? Well, to tell you the truth, I think I slept through most of the sunrises and sunsets (and maybe even a bike crash). This picture was night four of my trip and the most beautiful moonrise I've ever seen. This is the one in Big Sandy that God made especially for me since I was the only one around to see it.

There were parts of Wyoming that I would go 75 miles without seeing a single building of any kind. When I say it's in the middle of nowhere, unless you've seen it, you can't understand it. When I pulled off of the highway onto the dirt road that led to this camping spot, there was not another vehicle in sight and had not been in probably 20 minutes in either direction. I traveled about 2 miles down this dirt road before I came to the most beautiful lake. It had two guys fishing on the bank and they soon left after I got there leaving me with a beautiful sunset along a 20 or 30 acre lake all to myself. I threw my sleeping bag out in a fairly grassy area and watched the moon and stars move across the big sky. Again, pictures don't do it justice.

Wow!

I was thinking on my trip recently to Yellowstone that God must be busy. I mean, think about it. Look at everything around us in nature. Flowers, trees, grass, animals. And God still has time to jack with me. Conversely, with all the time he takes with me it's a wonder the world doesn't crash! He must be a big God!

Isaiah 55:9

As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.

Is there an on-time doctor in the house?

Ok, I'll try to make this the last rant about doctors but I make no guarantee. Between growing old and "being very lucky" I have seen my share of doctors lately but I still don't really understand them. My wife works in the medical field and she has tried to help me understand the mindset but I have to admit I still don't. My appointment today was at 4:00 pm. My doctor bebops in at 5:12 pm. I'm sound asleep in the examining room chair and he walks in and all he has to say is, "Crutches, huh?" and then proceeds to lecture me about the dangers of motorcycles.

No apology for being late. No "sorry I'm running a little behind" or "pardon my tardiness" or "excuse me for being an arrogant jerk who knows that my time is so much more valuable than yours and I know you can't do anything about it". No nothing. I can't even conceive of that! How can you have a scheduled appointment and run over an hour late and still keep your job much less be part of society and do it consistently and not feel any remorse for keeping somebody waiting. I had a month-old Time Magazine to help me pass the time. I'm just mad. Somebody tell me what society is going to do about this. Nothing? I should have crotched him with a crutch and lectured him on the dangers of lecturing me about anything. Yea, that's what I should have done.

The Great Rocky Mountain Tour '09

Ah...the wind in my face, the sun on my nose and the gravel in my ear! Good times! Wow, I don't know where to begin. I saw some incredible things, let me tell you. My quest: Yellowstone National Park and whatever else I could see from my faithful '02 Honda Shadow ACE 750. The plan was to camp in a tent every night so I didn't feel the need to make any reservations at any campgrounds and since I was going alone I didn't have to ask anybody's opinion.

I left Texas on July 3rd and traveled northwest to Raton, Mew Mexico where I spent the night in a beautiful little city park where I didn't even need to pitch my tent. I just threw down my sleeping bag next to a park bench and slept like a baby. Well...a baby with one hand on a Taurus .40 pistol.

I bragged to my wife that I was prepared for any kind of weather and that I fully expected to be rained on but that it wouldn't be a problem. And I was prepared for rain just not driving, pouring, slashing, blinding, freezing rain with hail that lasted all day long which is what I got the second day as I crawled pitifully into the Pikes Peak area of Colorado. Genius me didn't think it necessary to make reservations even though it was 4th of July and after asking every place in town if they had room for an 8x8 tent, I wound up finding a hotel room in Monument, Colorado. Maybe I should have said "yes" to the nice old gay Marine who asked me to stay with him but I didn't.

The next day was better and found me in Estes Park, Colorado where I slanted westward over the Trail Ridge Road. This was one of the absolute highlights of my trip and is the most beautiful country I have ever seen in person or on TV or the movies or internet. No exaggeration. Wow! Taking pictures only made me mad because the picture just couldn't hold the wonder of the scene. Alright, I'm going to use three words that I have never really used before that come to mind to describe this place: "vast", "breath-taking" and "majestic". Yes, they sound dorky and literary and over-used but if you can't use those three words to describe what I saw then take them out of the English language!

Night 4 found me in an ocean of sagebrush and nothing else at the Big Sandy Recreation Area on the southern Wyoming plain with nothing and nobody probably within 50 miles. It was pretty incredible when the huge full moon came up over the rise of the earth that night. It was as if God said, "Here, Todd, this moon is for you and you only!" I didn't put up the tent so I could appreciate it all night.

Night 5 cooled me off with the beautiful Tetons for babysitters in Colter Bay. Massive, snow-covered knife edges blast out of the prairie and after riding toward them for hours it looks like you could reach out your hand and cut your fingers on the top. Again, pictures and postcards just dissapoint compared to the real thing.

My sixth night was spent in the clouds above Gardiner, Montana on Jardine Road with elk for company and some horses in a pen nearby looking like they were waiting for David R. Stoecklin

to take their pictures. If my mansion in Heaven is built on that mountainside, I'll be very content.

I headed back south into Yellowstone the next day and camped with bison and deer within 50 feet of my tent in Pebble Creek Campground. I'll tell you in person the story of the bears I saw nearby. It's too good of a story not to tell audibly. Incredible sights, friendly people. Yellowstone did not dissappoint.

I had some of the most fun on my trip in Pinedale, Wyoming where they host the Pinedale Mountain Man Rendezvous. Free breakfast, parade, rodeo. It was the only place I spent two nights in the same place which was in a campground right in town that actually had showers and laundry services. Wow, I needed those! Even the mountain men were grateful I had cleaned up.

I left there Sunday morning and was headed to Moab, Utah to finish the last leg of my trip before heading home. The Utah mountains are beautiful and the warm sunshine and lower elevation warmed me and relaxed me probably a little too much. I remember crossing the Wyoming/Utah border thinking, "Well, isn't this nice! I'm getting a little bit slee..." My next memory was waking up in the emergency room in Vernal, Utah. The nurse said I took out a roadsign but she thought my bike was ok. She left and I realized I didn't know why I was there. The concussion left me very foggy-brained but I started the anatomy check. I first put my hands to my head. A little sore but I couldn't feel any bandages so I figured that was ok. My arms were ok. One of them had a new band aid but no problem. I pulled the sheet back that was across my lower body and prepared for a shock but everything seem attached where it was supposed to be. Then I noticed my good Wrangler's had been cut from my ankle up to my hip and I saw my knee was swollen like a grapefruit. Pretty painful but even then I knew it could have been alot worse.

My wife disobeyed me and she and a dear friend from church came and got me the next day and drove me home. Well, there you have the skeleton of the trip. I promise to tell some of the stories that happened in those 12 or so days here soon but now you know the basics. The doctor says I broke my tibial plateau and have to stay on crutches for 8 weeks. So between all that and my thoughts for getting Teddy home, I should have plenty of blog fodder for a while so stay tuned and I'll try not to bore you with pictures. They can't tell the whole story anyway!

Here's another hint...

That skunk saved my life.

I'm back

Well, I'm back from the Great Rocky Mountain Motorcycle Tour '09 and I have some stories to tell. Give me a little while and I'll start to fill you in. Here's a hint: it didn't end like I was planning.

Dori is a happy camper!

Back to nature

Me and some of my friends are gonna hang out this weekend at the bike show. Wanna come along?

Frito-Lay, seriously?

Lahoma is not ok. http://www.newsok.com/feed/box-of-chips-pays-for-prostitution-in-oklahoma-city/article/3380255?custom_click=pod_headline_news

Sources say crab dip was involved as well.

Happy Father's Day!

My dad and I went to Cancun together years ago. No real occasion for it. He said he just wanted to take me and we had a blast but what I was reminded of today was how he handled a fast-talking time share salesman. Here's the story:

My dad has been a Baptist preacher for longer than I have been alive but he also volunteered for a while to do a stint as chaplain for the local police department. It's a small town and there wasn't a whole lot of action for a chaplain but my dad was prepared for the action even if none appeared. He had all the accessories, let's just say that. He had hats, jackets, lights, even the gun but he also had a special wallet to hold his big, gold chaplain's badge. Never know when you might need to show your badge and Pop could whip that wallet out and flash that badge with the best of 'em.

So there we are in Cancun, Mexico, just the two of us for some sun and fun and we saw some guy in the hotel lobby giving out information on some fun things to do in Cancun. Through him one could go snorkeling, parasailing, fishing, diving, boating, tours, etc. He said if we just went to a quick orientation we could get a free breakfast and go snorkeling or parasailing for free. Well, we're all about free but Pop asked the guy if they were going to try to sell us anything and the guy assured us they would not. They just wanted to give some information.

We showed up at the place and sure enough, bigger than Dallas, they wanted to sell us timeshare vacation deals at "bargain prices" and all we had to do was listen to their presentation. At the end of the presentation we would not have to buy anything but we would get vouchers for free snorkeling or parasailing. So we tried to sit through it but after an hour or two of listening to this infomercial, we finally got up and left just to save what little time we had there in Cancun.

Later on that day we just happened to go into a mall not far from the hotel and there was the original salesman in a kiosk in the mall selling those timeshares. Pop marches up to him and asks him about the lie he told us about not trying to sell us anything. The guy recognizes us and starts to try to say something but before he could get it out Pop reaches in his pocket and pulls out the special wallet, flips it open like he has seen on TV too many times and flashes the big, gold chaplain's badge at the startled Mexican.

"In my country you would be arrested for business practices like that! Who do you think you are telling us a lie and trying to deceive us into buying a timeshare? That's illegal where I come from..." and Pop continued to tell the guy what he thought about him and his business. "I think you ought to go to jail for such behavior!" He looked at me and I tried not to laugh and just nodded. Pop didn't let up.

He griped at the scared Mexican salesman for a minute or two and the man got so intimidated and nervous he couldn't hand over vouchers quick enough. He wound up giving us vouchers for free parasailing and snorkeling and he even threw in a t-shirt just to make the mad American policia go away! Pop never said he was law enforcement but evidently "Chaplain" does not translate well when flashed on a badge for half a second and if that was his impression, oh well! We enjoyed the trip even more as we parasailed and snorkeled and laughed the whole time and Pop still cracks up when we talk about it. So, happy Father's Day, Pop. Good times! And remember, "Just act like you know what you're doing".

Could have been worse...

Ok, this is just off the top of my head. I didn't see Letterman when he told "the joke" and I didn't see him when he apologized and I know that much is told non-verbally so I just have to go by what I read here. My first thought is: at least he said that much. I just assumed he didn't feel bad at all about saying something like he did about Sarah Palin's daughter.

If you don't know what I'm talking about well, good for you. Nevermind. Don't worry about it but most people have heard that David Letterman said something offensive about the Palins. To tell you the truth, I wonder when people are going to quit taking seriously what "famous" people say. He's a stupid comedian who went for some cheap laughs by taking a shot at somebody else that is famous. Did he mean for the joke to be about the 18 year old or the 14 year old? Who knows? Who cares? What's really the difference? Yes, it's tasteless and offensive but get over it. That's what people like him say.

I'm a big Palin fan but honestly, she probably overreacted. I'm not cutting Letterman any slack. He never should have told that joke but Palin should have never let it escalate to this point. Maybe I want to live in a perfect world but people have more important things to do than wah wah about people saying mean things. Put your big-girl panties on and show people that you have style and grace even when your name is slandered and your feelings get hurt.

So, my point is that at least Letterman apologized. Could it have been better? Yeah, sure. Did he really mean it or is he worried about his ratings? Eh, probably a little bit of both. Who knows? Who cares? Let's go to sleep and tomorrow we fight bigger battles. Like...how is Teddy ever going to get home?!

I'm not there yet...

But I will be soon. Sometimes a man just needs to get away. I work hard. I've earned it and even my boss can't stop me. I told my parents the other night that I was going to Yellowstone Park and on up into Canada riding my motorcycle by myself and they just looked crestfallen. They know they can't do anything to change my mind and now it's all I think about on those rare occasions when my mind can go where it wants. It always goes north. You know what I want to see most? Sunrise. I promise to come back with the picture of a sunrise. You will know that's why I went when you see it. More info to come.

More handgun probs

Ok, I have a few problems with this article. First off, it's so very obviously a toy gun and anybody should be able to tell even tucked into a waistband. Secondly, these kids were rummaging around the dumpsters looking for unused booze on a college campus. Is there such a thing as unused booze on a college campus and would they really throw it in a dumpster? Also, the fourth paragraph says, "No shots were fired". No (headbob) kidding! It was a toy gun! This article is getting on my nerves!

Handgun problems: solved!

A friend of mine recently wrote about reading another friend's blog about reading the owner's manual of his pistol. I only hope that criminals read the owner's manual as well since mine reads "Danger: This product is not intended for use by criminals or for the use in commission of crimes."



Also, there are no pictures to go along with this post since I was scared off of google after entering "gangbanger pics" in the search window. Don't try it. Just trust me.

Good news and bad news

Bad news: we elected Gilligan to be vice-president.

Good News: I got HD and a DVR!

Bad news: Swine Flu is the new AIDS.

Good news: I don't have to watch commercials anymore!

Bad news: Obama kills babies with his open heart and open mind.

Good news: I have a crystal clear picture and extra channels!

Bad news: Nancy Pelosi is obviously a zombie fire ant wandering aimlessly with no brain.

Good news: I'm paying less now than I was for regular TV!

I think the world is going to be just fine now!

Blame it on the Ambien

Ah, the miracles of modern medicine! In this life, sometimes things just don't go quite right. Sometimes a man just needs a little help. Know what I mean? Sometimes just a little bit of pharmaceutical help is all that's needed. Anything can be taken the extreme but I firmly believe that some medicines, in the right dosage, under a doctor's care can dramatically increase the quality of life. No great leap there, I know, but some people won't "do drugs" for anything even if advised by people that know. I have a friend whose wife should definitely go to the doctor for some happy pills. Nothing wrong with that. It doesn't make you a bad person if you need a little adjustment here and there. It happens to good people all the time.

My drug of choice is Ambien. I highly recommend it if you have trouble falling asleep. I don't know how it works but evidently it tricks your brain into thinking it's sleepy and you fall asleep but that trickery is caused by a strong hallucinagen. One can imagine the problems that it might cause but I like to think of it as opportunity. You have the opportunity to see things you wouldn't normally see and to forget things you might not want to remember. Lots of new doors can be opened with a good drug like Ambien.

Now so far Ambien and blogging have been a fun mix. I take the stuff about 9:00 or 9:30 and then go to the computer. Again, for some that might be a problem but not me. Just this morning, for instance, I was able to read my own blog like any other reader. I saw the last post about Gain detergent and thought, "Huh, I wonder what that's about". I have to admit that I had to read it a couple of times before I totally understood it but, hey, not bad for somebody totally out of their mind. So just to make sure it's clear: anything you read here written after about 9:00 or 9:30 does not necessarily reflect the views of the owner so please read with a grain of salt. At least I have an excuse for saying stupid stuff. What's Bono's excuse?

Beleive it or not, I'm not in this for the money.

I was cruising around my blog tonight just looking at different things and came across a section on the dashboard part of it behind the scenes that is labeled "Monetize". I, like some others, have a slight interest in all things money so I clicked over there. It gave tips and hints on how to add advertising to your blog by putting ads between the sidebar and below the post. They won't tell you how much you will make by doing it but this is to let my loyal readers know that you will not see any ads in my blog! Not me. No way, not the kid! I'm not giving in to the man. For love of the game...that's me. Nobody's making any money off those two stupid cartoons and a picture of John Wayne. That's right. Shoot it's time for bed. I sure am glad I bought Gain Laundry Detergent. My sheets have that willowy forest smell to it. It's the smell...the smell of clean! Ca-ching!

Storytime in parts

--Part XI--

Jimmy Robert Cade had a decision to make. He had always been down on his luck and had rarely kept the few meaningless jobs he had ever aquired for more than a few months. In his mind Cade (known by his associates as Jimbob) had always felt that he was under-appreciated. Employers rarely saw the diamond in the rough he was soon to be if he just had a break. If they would just give him some latitude in his work ethic he would show them pretty soon that he was a good worker but few employers were willing or able to see things as Jimbob saw them and now he had to make a decision.

The gun in his coat pocket made him feel powerful. It was the feeling he had never gotten any other way and the sensation was sweeping over him like a fever. It started in his head and had moved down his spine. It puffed out his chest and moved down to his feet that were now moving one after the other without his acknowledgment toward the building. His mind freewheeled over things that had been said to him and done to him. Most of the time he had not protested when he was fired from a job or turned down for an opportunity but some things were beyond his control. When he lost his job at the diner the owner said it was because he was continually tardy but Jimbob's car had broken down and he had yet to fix it. That's all. The owner said Jimbob "couldn't be counted on" and had fired him after only two weeks. "I bet he's not counting on this!", thought Jimbob as he walked down the sidewalk. He reached the door and paused, glancing in the restaurant and taking a deep breath.

Jimbob Cade was thirty years old but looked several years older. He grew his stringy hair longer on one side and combed it over the top assuming nobody would notice the bare spot. He wore a thread-bare gray suit his ex-wife had bought him years ago so he would have something to wear to church but even though Christmas and Easter rarely came around the suit was well worn. He thought he looked good in it and wore it nearly everywhere proudly. He never cared for a tie and usually opted not to shave since he had sensitive skin. He was average height but slightly built with a concave chest and narrow slumping shoulders. When he looked in the mirror he knew that his brown eyes were his best feature. His ex-wife had told him that years ago when they were dating so that is how he knew.

He stood on the sidewalk for a long moment screwing his courage up to a sticking place and letting the memories combine with the newly-felt power. This combination of repression of feelings, oppression of employers and depression of mind had left a lasting impression on Jimbob's psyche that he felt had to be released. At this point he had pretty much made up his mind but if he needed any more motivation to go in the door he saw a ferocious dog approaching him obviously wanting to do him harm and so he slipped inside the door as much for safety than as to get what he was due.

The bell hanging on the door barely caused any heads to turn and Jimbob was unsure exactly of his next move. He walked over to the wooden counter where the cash register was but there was nobody there. Just then the old waitress called out, "Seat yourself, honey" and continued filling a customer's coffee mug. Jimbob waited by the register with his hand in his pocket wrapped around the small revolver. He waited there for several minutes just feeling uncomfortable. He had seen things going differently than this in his mind. He had seen patrons climbing under their tables in fear of him and the owner crying out, begging him to spare his life. Jimbob was not wanting to hurt anyone. He just wanted them to be afraid, to show him respect but none of that seemed to be happening now and Jimbob was getting anxious.

The waitress finally came over to him and repeated her previous message but when she turned around Jimbob grabbed her by the arm and pulled out the gun. He again expected her to instantly cower in fear but instead she jerked her arm away and looked him in the eye. Not even seeing the gun Jimbob held at waist level, the waitress said, "Hey! What the..." and then finally seeing the weapon, slowly finished her sentence with what Jimbob recognized as disgust in her voice. "...blue blazes do you think you're doing?"

"Give me the money outta the...in the..." Jimbob was mentally over-stimulated at this point and although he was jerking his thumb toward the cash register, he couldn't think of what to call it.

"Gimme the money!" He finally said loudly. All eyes now turned his way. He turned to tell them all something tough like you would see in the movies but the only thing that came out of his mouth was, "Stop it! Shut up!" It did not even make sense. All they were doing was looking at him. Visions of ex-wives and ex-employers all rushed to his already overloaded brain. He felt impotent and foolish and wished he were someplace else. He closed his eyes for a moment and reached up to wipe the sweat away from his forehead with the back of his hand that held the gun and felt the gun scrape against his fingers as it was pulled from his grasp in literally the blink of an eye.

His eyes popped open and he looked at the people in the restaurant. For a brief surreal second Jimbob did not know what happened. He even looked at his hand in disbelief. The gun was gone. One moment he had it and the next moment...he heard "Hey!" come out of his own mouth and then he felt a hand on his shoulder. He whirled around and saw the huge figure of a shabbily dressed man towering over him. He could smell alcohol and, oddly enough, bacon on his breath. The whole scene was more than Jimbob could process and he bolted for the door in a panic. He banged open the door, his every fiber wanting to find release from this situation. He heard the bell clash angrily against the glass door and saw the daylight but then as his foot hit the pavement he also saw the ferocious dog, mouth open and tongue out, waiting to bite him. The combination of momentum, adreneline and lack of natural coordination sent Jimbob flailing more sideways than forward and more airborne than running. He tried to jump over Teddy and turn at the same time and did neither very well. One leg hit the ground and gave him just enough distance to crease the lightpole with his eye socket on his way down to the sidewalk. Just before he passed out he could feel Teddy lick his nose.

My friend Kirk

Some of you have been wondering about my friend Kirk who fixed my computer. Who is this unknown super-friend with all-knowing computer skills? This is his picture. He usually wears a shirt when I see him but his wife gave me this picture to share. Just out of sight of the camera is a group of sorority girls that are ogling him with delight. He fixes computers in his spare time when he is not curing children's diseases in Botswana or single-handedly designing and building fighter jets at a local plant. Men fear him, women desire him. He also has nun-chuk skills and bow hunting skills. He's an astronaut and he owns this bar. If you see him, thank him for what he has done for all of us.

Taurus .40

Fits, shoots and looks just like it should.

I'm back!

Woohoo!! This is my home computer and it seems to be working fine now. My good friend Kirk came over and did major surgery on it and got it going again. Evidently the RAM had corrupted the hard drive and by removing some of the RAM and reinstalling the disk it is now working. I'll buy some RAM to replace it but I'm out cheap and I can't thank Kirk enough. He spent many hours over here tonight and had vast stores of patience while I looked over his shoulder asking if it was done yet. I told Kirk I had even prayed for the stupid thing to start working again and he admitted to me that he was about to give up trying but then prayed that the Lord would give him wisdom. He obviously did receive wisdom just like the Bible says and he was able to help a friend out with that wisdom. So, thank you, Lord and thank you, Kirk so very much. I tried to kiss Kirk on the mouth but he just turned his head! But I bet our wives will join us out to eat soon.

Now what?

I think I'm gonna start blogging with a Big Chief tablet and a #2 pencil. Maybe do some crayon work in there for color. Since I can't get my computer to work that's what I'm down to. Just come on over to my house if you want to read my Big Chief blog from now on. We bought the computer a little over a year ago from Best Buy and the warranty went out after a year. So I took it back to let those geek guys look at it and first they said they would diagnose it for $70.00. Then I took it back after doing the stuff they told me to do (reload the original disks) and they said they would diagnose it for $129.00 or diagnose it and fix it for $199.00. It won't let me do anything to it. It just keeps coming back to a black ctrl-alt-delete screen. I don't like using my work computer. (It's not as good for one thing.) But Marilyn and Teddy are screaming to get out of my head so maybe I'll try writing it down on the Big Chief. Hope that doesn't break down too.