Monday, September 26, 2011

quickie: bang

This is to verify that everyone can be involved in stupid things...sometimes when it happens faster than one  can think....couple examples.

1.  I think this happened in late junior high years - could be early h.s.   Levelland (many years past)  had elementary schools grades 1-6.   Junior High was 7 -9;  and high school was 10 - 12.  So somewhere in these years of stupidity, my brother Jim and I went to visit a fellow stupid person.  I wish I could remember his name.   He lived on 10th street or 11th near West Avenue.  (there is a bit of info most of you will cherish)    There were about 5 or 6 or 7 of us all together.
        I remember that I felt a bit uncomfortable in the setting we were in - as in these guys were not my closest friends.   The one fellow took us down into his cellar - I seem to remember it was in the house, but Levelland houses don't have basements - this is the Panhandle of Texas.  We went down there and were messing around when he picked up a gun - pistol if I remember correctly.  
        am anxious to know if bro Jim remembers this.
        We are in his cellar (or basement).  It is all concrete - walls, ceiling, floor, all.   I was standing by the stairs when he pulls out this gun.   There is a target of some kind against the other wall.   The guy points the gun at the target and pulls the trigger.  IT WAS LOUD.   The bullet went through the target and rickoshayed all around the room.   Laughter and more laughter.   Boys are not know for brains.   (sidebar:  how do you spell rickoshayed)   It seems like he fired the gun again - more bouncing bullet - Jim & I left up the stairs.
It is a wonder nobody was killed.   Could this be the reason our father didn't like us to hang around with other teenage boys?
         And another incident - not physically dangerous - We guys were driving around town - crusing if you will.  I was in the left back - Jim was in the front right - I think we were in Gerald Heath's buick - and somebody was in the right rear.  Frankly, I think it was Mack Tubb, but I wouldn't bet on it.  There could have been 2 more people in the car - Buicks would hold 6 moron boys.  
           It was after dark and we made it down Houston street on the Square.  I don't remember why, but in the back seat was an air rifle - not a beebe gun, but one of those you pumped up and shot the little lead pellets - a pellet gun if you will.   This guy on the right back took the pellet gun and "scruntched" down in his seat - the windows were open (nobody had air conditioning back then) - He barely stuck the barrel out the window as we passed the Wallace Theater and pulled the trigger, aiming up at the marquee.
           I couldn't believe he did that.  Pellet guns don't make a lot of noise - just a thunk whoosh.   The driver hit the gas and we were gone.   The pellet gun was put on the floor, and we continued to drive up and down the streets.    Several in the car had a great laugh over this.   Think of the trouble we would have had if someone had been hit - we had been seen - or whatever.   It was not a good adventure.
        Speaking of Mack Tubb (his father was the head basketball coach in Levelland - Gano Tubb - I remember this was Mack.   One day when we were all going to Tech, Bro Jim & I plus Mack and I think a couple of others were downtown Lubbock - we were making the rounds of pawn shops and the like.   I was enthralled by the stores.   All of a sudden the store keeper started yelling at us to get out of his store.   He was loud.  I didn't understand what was happening.   Outside the store I pieced together that Mack had tried to shoplift a pocketknife.   We were lucky again.
      Now I know that blogs sometimes are read by people who have done searches.   Mack - if you happen to see this - I am not trying to cause you pain - hey, that was over 50  years ago.   It is funny how certain things stick with you.  This one has haunted me for quite a while.   I should let it go.  Move on.   Eat a cookie.  Let the dogs outside.   G'night all.

Saturday, September 24, 2011

Quickie: D D

My mom was a verbally graphic woman - she could talk with the best sailors, but she used a limited number of questionable words.  Certain colorful words, I never heard from her lips.   Others could fly with ease.  I think it came from her upbringing in the back woods area of Oklahoma.

[ Her home town was so important, the State of Okla. covered it with a lake....Kaw City went swimming with the fishes. ]

I don't know why the following thought came to mind.  I was just sitting and thinking.  Sometimes I think.  Sometimes I sit and think.  And - Sometimes I just sits.   Wellsirrr - in one of those "just sitting,"  I broke my pattern and began to think.  A memory came up.

When we were kids, we wore white (if clean) underwear.  Washing machines were not the best back then - underwear might take on a gray color over time.   We never wore  T-shirts or undershirts, just white (grayish)  briefs.   We'd wear them - clean or dirty - till they shreaded.   Back in them thar days, elastic had not reached the fine quality of today's  -   after-all, ours were not made in China  (humor). 

Within a few months of wearing and re-wearing our underwear, they began to stretch out.  Thus came the term my mother taught me:


I didn't even know Briefs were called "briefs"   untill Clinton ran for office and some klutzo asked if he wore boxers or briefs.   My whole life, they were known as droopy drawers...droopy drawers.  It does have a ring to it.

Thanks mom for adding to my vocabulary.

Friday, September 23, 2011

Frozen Face

Last July - t'was about the last week or so, this thing came up on my right jaw.  It was just back far enough that I couldn't see it without a mirror and, just so you'll know,  I was never too good looking at anything with a mirror.  

My first thought was:  ingrown whisker - or pimple  (I am still a teenager at heart).  When I touched same mass, it hurt.  I left it alone as my mother taught me.   "Don't touch that pimple or it will turn into a wart.  DO YOU WANT A WART?"   Leave em alone - they will heal on their own.   Wrong.

I left it alone.  August started and so did Grammy Camp.  It was two weeks long and so was my growth.  On the 4th week, I decided -- call a dermotologist, darnatogolist, droop-a-mologist - I never could keep those straight.   I called.  Nurse answered.  I explained that I wanted an appointment with Dr. Bilitz.   She started talking up the Physician Asst.  PA....BOTH FEMALE.   I said, "No, I don't want some female poking around on me, I will wait for the Doctor."  Now I know that is a bit wrong, but I am 70 yrs old and I don't want some female poking around on me.  I have enough problems.

Keep in mind - this is 3rd week of August.   I went in for my appt on Tuesday.   His waiting list is that long.

The nurse ushered me into a small examining room,  chair, table, stool, recliner - and hung brilliantly on the wall,  a Whitish flag with a big double T in the middle....signed by Leach and that basketball guy we all loved to love and hate.  Two other signatures adorned the flag in two other corners - couldn't make them out.  I was in the presence of a Tech grad.  All must be okay.

Nurse left.  In walked this late 20 to early 30 tall young lady.   She introduced herself as an intern from Baylor.  A FEMALE !!!!  She said, "If you will POP off your shirt and sit up here."   pop off my shirt.  This female is going to go poking around my body - that concept to most of you readers should be repulsive in itself - not the poking around, but me without a shirt.   Ask my wife.  No, don't ask my wife.

I said as I popped of my shirt,  "Pop off your shirt.  You must not have been raised in Texas."   I was right.  She is over here from Ireland.  Of course I was able to talk about my Irish heritage - the Tule family.   She found the spelling to be interesting, or she was just being nice.   Much poking went on.  Eventually, I was able to replace my pop-off.   Dr. Bilitz stolled in.   I complimented him on the Tech flag - we were instant friends. 

The doc poked around.  They agreed;  I had 3 things on my face that needed to go away.  The jaw thing had gone done somewhat - so it was suspect too.  Doc left.  Irish Doc got out the freezer gun.   She said, "close your eyes."   Whoosh.  I can tell you, that hurts.  I asked if I could scream.  She said that some do.   I didn't.  I have had one pain that was more than this, but don't let anyone tell you this is fun.  It is not.

(side bar:  my retina detached  two different times and I was hit by a laser  twice, one month or so apart.  This is a pain that I cannot describe.  You don't want it unless the doctor provides a bullet to put between your teeth.)

Zapping over.  Irish chick doc split.   I split.  Set up a follow-up appt for exactly one year from now.  They seem concerned don't they?   One year before a follow up.    My 3 bits of pain dimished over time.  Still it all hurts and scabs are starting to form.  I want to return to normal.

With that, I close.
Zappingly yours,
p.s.  hummingbirds outside my window are having a great time right now  AND   it is precisely 5 p.m.  My dog Fritz is starting to pace the floor for his supper.

Quickie - last meal

okay all - rightoe, so forth -- this is stolen directly from the newsclips at the front of the AOL entry thingy.  I could have stolen it from our local Corsicana newspaper since it was there too too.  Notice that I give this guy credit for his work.   So the last meal is no longer a   R I T E   -- [  a play on last rite vs. last right - take your choice :)  ]

MICHAEL GRACZYK, Associated Press

HOUSTON (Associated Press) -- Texas inmates who are set to be executed will no longer get their choice of last meals, a change prison officials made Thursday after a prominent state senator became miffed over an expansive request from a man condemned for a notorious dragging death.

Lawrence Russell Brewer, who was executed Wednesday for the hate crime slaying of James Byrd Jr. more than a decade ago, asked for two chicken fried steaks, a triple-meat bacon cheeseburger, fried okra, a pound of barbecue, three fajitas, a meat lover's pizza, a pint of ice cream and a slab of peanut butter fudge with crushed peanuts. Prison officials said Brewer didn't eat any of it.   

[ a little side-bar here.  In my youth this would be close to a regular meal for me and most of my teen-age friends, except, of course, my wife who would have had a salad with croutons.)

"It is extremely inappropriate to give a person sentenced to death such a privilege," Sen. John Whitmire, chairman of the Senate Criminal Justice Committee, wrote in a letter Thursday to Brad Livingston, the executive director of the Texas Department of Criminal Justice.

Within hours, Livingston said the senator's concerns were valid and the practice of allowing death row offenders to choose their final meal was history.

"Effective immediately, no such accommodations will be made," Livingston said. "They will receive the same meal served to other offenders on the unit."

might add here....I noticed the "anti capital punishment" folks were not running around at this execution.   They were all in Geogia feeling sorry for the guy who was convicted of killing a policeman.   This does seem to be an interesting opening for conversations.  And, while I do understand the concept - I don't understand why a murder which is a hate-crime is any more a murder than one for robbery or luv ...

Friday, September 16, 2011

Quickie - bang bang

I have a few quickies I need to get out of the way.  This one really made an impression on me - makes the adage "enjoy life today cause you never know .... "  That might not be an adage.  I am sure it is something though.

I sing in the FUMC church choir.  I have not been good lately and have missed several rehearsals and/or Sunday services.   Went to practice on Wednesday.  Our choir director - Chris Johnson - is a recent graduate from Baylor - Organ major.   He does a creditable job with the choir.  He has amazing patience with the whole process and doesn't yell at me when I smart off.  I try to be good; it is difficult at times.

So Chris started rehearsal by saying something like, "Well, here is my story - why I didn't show up for church Sunday...."  Okay that was a paraphrase - you think I have a photographic memory?  Ask my wife; she'll tell you.   Off focus - back to stone.

Chris started telling us (he still lives in Waco) that he and a friend were spending some time together and decided to go to one of the parks on the river - the one with the suspended bridge.  There they found a couple benches facing each other and just talked.   He is still young enough that he gets into a conversation and in  monopolizes his attention. 

All of a sudden he hears a click.   A voice behind him says, "Give me your wallet."
He slowly turned around to see a gun pointed at his head about 3 ft away.   Chris did the intelligent thing - he moved slowly and gave up his wallet.   Then the guy took a very deep breath as if he were about to do something else.  He lowered the gun from the head to point at the torso.  Chris rotated away from him.  

Instead of firing the man ran.   Both Chris and his friend ran the other way and called 911.  He says the police were all over the park in 45 seconds.  But, the guy got away and so did the wallet.

that's it.  The whole stone is more than I cared to hear and to add to my worries...of potential probs. 

That's it.
Take Care.

Friday, September 9, 2011

roads and sand

busy last 2 days:

Yesterday, my homeowners asso. decided to work on our road. A little history.

We have had bad roads. It is a little over a mile from here to the FM road. So this last year the home owners decided to re-pave about 500 yards. Then, a few months later, another 500 yards. Those are estimates - it could be longer like close to a mile. Doesn't matter. It was tough work moving gravel around for the pavers. but wait....

So the Asphalt went down, and the rains did not come - Earth moved being dry, and the asphalt cracked and cracked. Now, we are going to pour hot tar type stuff into the cracks. They have a machine rented which heats tar stuff and forces it into cracks. but wait....

Because the cracks are big and deep - someone told them to fill the cracks with sand first - a special sand/clay mixture. Two loads of sand delivered. A neighbor with a front end loader picks up a load of sand - we others gather at the scoop (similar to gathering at the flag pole or tea pot, but different) - and shovel sand out of the scoop on top of the cracks. but wait....

You can't just shovel sand on the cracks - first of all you cannot see the cracks for the piles of sand - how would you know where to put the tar? Answer: Brooms. The sand must be swept back and forth, back and forth across the cracks. The sand falls into the cracks and goes somewhere never to be swept again. All gone. Bring more sand. It looked like an hourglass.

All day yesterday, I shoveled sand into cracks; I swept sand into cracks. This went on till almost 6 p.m. On and On. The cracks were swept all day today likewise. And, they plan to do more tomorrow.  All of the workers are old guys  - several over 70.  None of us should be out there with a shovel.   None.
New subj. my old motorhome was eating my lunch. The payments were too high and too long. It was older so I had no warranty. Motorhome repair people are crazy wild about making money. I was able to trade for a newer machine with lower payments and a relevant warranty. I like hydraulic jacks on a motorhome. Parking is so much easier -- less yelling and pain in the rain. We went to Camping World to get the jacks put on ( this is a stone in itself - oh, wait, already written - see previous blog ). Today, we drove up and brought the motorhome back. The spouse and I worked till past dark - (that would be dark-thirty) getting it ready to move - reloading our stuff into this machine.

Our homeowners asso doesn't like people to have motorhomes parked outside their houses, so we had to get this done tonight in order to store it...or use it. But using it - that will be a different stone.

All day yesterday, I shoveled sand into cracks; I swept sand into cracks. This went on till almost 6 p.m. On and On. The cracks were swept all day today likewise. And, they plan to do more tomorrow.

tomorrow brings more fun.

Sunday, September 4, 2011


We have owned 3 motorhomes over the years.  The first one was about 20' long.  We bought it used in Amarillo years ago.  It let us travel with the kids - being about the size of a large car, it was great.  It did have a problem though.   Every 500 + miles the wheel bearings on the front right would break.   We were caught once on an Indian reservation in eastern Arizona when they went.  The townspeople just looked at us.  They didn't care to help us at all.

We drove from that place through the 4 corners area to the next town at less than 30 mph nursing the m.h. along.  It took us about 2 days.  We spent one night at the actual 4 corners area - heard coyotes outside the motorhome drinking our  gray water.   It was not a good time had by all.  We sold that motorhome soon after.

Our last one was purchaed in 2004 - Winnebago Brave.  I made a mistake - all of you should learn - you can get upside down in a heartbeat with a motorhome.   There are limited number of people who want to own your motorhome for what you owe.   Long story short, we found a way to move into a smaller motorhome, losing the Brave.   Hopefully this newer model will be financially better for us.

So I took the new motorhome, a Jamboree, to Camping World to have hydralic jacks installed. 
I called them 2 weeks ago on a Friday.  Gave them my numbers, and they said they would order the parts.  Did they?  Of course not.  They finally ordered them on Monday after I called them.   Then, I asked if I could set up the install appt. at that time.  Well, no.  It seems they don't like to set appts. until the parts come in.  so I waited.  They called on Friday.  the parts were in.   I set up the appt for Thursday.  We took it up on Wednesday & would go get it back on Friday...that was 2 days ago.

Nope.  The parts had a defective board.   They called the jack company who would overnight the part for Friday delivery.  by now you should have figured this out - no part on Friday.  So my motorhome sets in their lot waiting for business (deliveries) on Tuesday.

Friday -- I call
Friday -- they are to order
Sat./Sun -- their service dept closed
Monday -- I call
Monday -- they actually order
Friday -- Part comes in
Friday -- Set install appt for Thurs.
Wed -- take motorhome up there
Thurs -- they install
Thurs afternoon -- they called to say part is defective
Thurs -- they are to order
Thurs -- company was to overnight
Fri -- no part
Sat/Sun/Mon -- service department closed
Coming Tues -- part should come in
Coming Tues -- part should be installed
Coming Tues -- I should be able to get my machine.

anyone want to make a bet on tuesday?

that's it.

Sunday today

daily event:

Yesterday the wind came out of the south (more s.e.). It blew hard. When I woke up this morning it was coming out of the north, straight across the lake into our back door. We have not seen a strong wind like this in a long time. Everything on our back porch has moved around in the breeze.

Our weather alarm went off saying that the small town of Navarro was to be evacuated. Fire. Navarro is a wide spot about 10 miles south of us. Luckily the wind is blowing out of the north and the fire was heading south towards that leg of the lake. Let me change that. It is lucky for us, the fire was going that way.

Our next door neighbor drove up. They had been to Canton to buy some big jugs for their back porch. But, as will happen when you go to Canton, they went to the dog area. If you have never been to "dog town" - it is fun. There are more puppies there than you can shake a chew stick at. They are sooooooooo cute. I always try to see Poms so I can tell Jim. The dachshunds are everywhere - they even had 2 wire hair ones this month. Big Dogs; Little Dogs. I don't know how these people ever come out ahead with all the puppies.

Back to the neighbors. You may remember their black Lab, Heidi, died a while back. That left Sue, their other lab, alone. Now they have a new puppy - a 2 month old Bullmastiff. Its dad was 120 lbs. Big Puppy. Big paws. Big Papa.

Anyway - remember she is an insurance agent. The wife, not the bullmastiff. She told me about the fires in the county - ten. She has two customers in Navarro who keep calling her about the fire down there. It really bothers me about all these fires throughout the state. I am sitting on a potential disaster.

now for the few of you who actually will care -- I learned today that Abby has moved - with DeeDee & Penny & Little Dog. The people down the way bought a house in Red Oak and the dogs have gone. We will never love on Abby again. She was a good dog friend.  You can read about Abby on another posting.