To cut to the chase, drop down to the blue words. The black words are just ranting.
================================================
Corsicana Daily Sun - Our newspaper - just received a letter from them. They are cutting delivery back to 3 days a week Tue, Thurs, Friday .... or is it Saturday? Probably T-T-S nor T-T-F. I suppose there is a cost involved with putting out a paper, and profit must come from somewhere.
.
There is no doubt - I am not a salesman nor do I know the answer to all sale problems - but it seems to me that this paper, instead of cutting days, should figure out why they lose money the other ways.
.
Example: Are they lacking advertisements? If that is the case, what would I do to make a change. First thing I would do is to find a hungry / good salesman. Surely in this day and age, there are salesmen out there who are hungry. I love the word: "Surely." (you prolly thought I'd say hungry - nope - never love being hungry )
.
On Tuesday in addition to our regular paper, we get a free advertising paper which is nothing but advertisements. That's it; just advertisements. We never open it. The paper makes good fodder for my daughter's rabbit cage.
.
Back to their problem. Are they not providing good reading material for the people. Are subscriptions down? They have a page or two of sports. One full page of announcements - every paper looks the same. There is one full page of religious announcements. The paper is the same. I read the same features daily and fluff off the remainder of the paper. What do other papers of this caliber do? I think there may be a need for change. Somebody call Obama.
.
Every edition has 2, maybe 3 or 4 ramblings from editors and commentators and the like (not to mention the sports page talkers). Most columns are filled with homespun humor. Sure they are fun to read, but are they meeting the subscriber's needs? In today's climate we have all these things like facebook and so forth. People can get cute stories all day long on the Net. My wife just showed me a really cute one of a baby elephant trying to act tough. This stuff is everywhere.
.
What's the point. Newspapers are failing and sinking many places. They are run by people who don't know what to do to get readership up. As a retired band director, I attended conventions and workshops - one after another - looking for ways to improve my band's product. Do newspapers have conventions with topical subjects? I don't know.
.
Defensive Point. I write this blog; but, I don't know what to do to get readership up. If I had more readers, maybe I could find a way to turn it into cash. Controversy? More Sex ? More politics ? Pictures of my grandgirls ? Dfirty jokes? Recipes?
===================================================
Our local paper columnist Janet Jacobs had a bit the other day on Stupidity. I thought it was sorta cute even though I imagine she found it via email or u-tubby. She did give credit to a couple TV stations. I hope I am not breaking any copywrite rules by doing this. If so - send me a cease letter. I can cease with vigor and style.
====================================
She wrote about this guy in Seattle on a bus listening to music on his phone. The guy opened his eyes to see a man and a woman holding his phone. He demanded it back, and they beat him up on the bus (where's the driver?). The couple ran off the bus w/ the phone and this "beat-up" feller in hot pursuit.
.
Pause here and ask yourself: "I was just beat up by these two yokels. Should I chase them down the street?" Well, folks, he did. Apparently he was quite threatening because the dame called the police for help.
.
Yes, she called the police. The police came - found beat-up guys phone on her - arrested stupid babe and her attached bum. Now, that was stupid. No doubt in my mind. But wait, Janet wrote about another story:
.
She tells about a 22 year old guy who stole a safe out of a pharmacy in the predawn hours - Swansboro, N. Carolina. they said he broke in through the drive-through window - tied a rope around the safe and drove off. It was too heavy to lift into his car, so, naturally, he just drove down the street dragging the safe - 2 miles he went before a cop stopped him. I betcha the safe wasn't blemished.
.
Janet's last stone is just an eye-roller. A west Texas couple - don't know where - maybe in my hometown of Levelland - kept their 9 kids out of school to be home schooled. { My feelings on Home Schooling will wait for another day. Boo Hiss. } This couple knew that the "Rapture" was coming just around the corner, any day now. Education wasn't needed at this time. Let's get ready for the Rapture. The problem was discovered when their 17 yr old daughter ran away from home and tried to enroll in school. She couldn't tell them what grade she was in. Call the law.
.
That is really quite sad. Ignorance seems to breed Ignorance - or stupudity.
And I stop for the night. You guys take care. Maybe better humor tomorrow.
m3
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Thursday, August 28, 2014
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
bit of rambling
COMPLAINT: stupid phone rings all the time with calls from 1-800, Unknown Caller, New York, Private number - this morning an honest one from JII Teleservice --- whoever that is. Nobody leaves a message. They just call and move on to other people who "dumb-like" answer. They try to trick me. The other day I had one from my own phone number - and, then, one from 2 digits off my number. Somebody MUST BE buying from these stupid folks. Surely. Just like the bums on the street corners asking for handouts. If nobody would give them anything, they would go away.
==============
How do journalist write everyday? I know they get paid - no writee, no payee. Still it must be hard for a columnist to find an interesting topic each day. My plan was to write each day; but, now I have skipped a day. Betcha I skip more days.
==============
On my desk is an article which says my new car - Ford Flex - has a recall. Ford has not told me. Get this newspaper talk. "The company says that because of improper installation of a chip in the axle, the half-shaft can disengage from the linkshaft." CAN? WILL? What then? "Oh, don't worry about it, your half-shaft just disengaged from your linkshaft." Why is half-shaft hyphenated and linkshaft is not? In today's climate we have so much to worry about.
==============
On the news this morning I heard a report. Remember when the crazy guy went into a moviehouse showing Batman and shot the place up? Aurora, Colo.? Well, the theater was sued by the victims and the theater lost. The judge said (paraphrase) in today's climate of mass shootings the theater should have known there was a reasonable expectation for their theater to be shot up by a crazed maniac. Yes, the theater lost.
. Lemme explain: This means that ALL theaters should put on guards and weapon detectors by the front door. Wouldn't a grocery store expect to be shot up? Some mom & pop jewelry store should expect to be attacked. Everyone should be, and you will be sued when it happens. And, this frothing judge will declare that you are the bad guy. Pay up.
I read that BP has paid enough money to Texas that Texas Parks and Wildlife has bought a bunch of land and will build a new State Park. I don't think this was the intent of the money that BP had to pay. I believe it is wrong. Nobody asked. How long will BP be punished? Over-kill.
============
time to eat - more tomorrow - I have a couple of humor things - maybe this afternoon.
m
==============
How do journalist write everyday? I know they get paid - no writee, no payee. Still it must be hard for a columnist to find an interesting topic each day. My plan was to write each day; but, now I have skipped a day. Betcha I skip more days.
==============
On my desk is an article which says my new car - Ford Flex - has a recall. Ford has not told me. Get this newspaper talk. "The company says that because of improper installation of a chip in the axle, the half-shaft can disengage from the linkshaft." CAN? WILL? What then? "Oh, don't worry about it, your half-shaft just disengaged from your linkshaft." Why is half-shaft hyphenated and linkshaft is not? In today's climate we have so much to worry about.
==============
On the news this morning I heard a report. Remember when the crazy guy went into a moviehouse showing Batman and shot the place up? Aurora, Colo.? Well, the theater was sued by the victims and the theater lost. The judge said (paraphrase) in today's climate of mass shootings the theater should have known there was a reasonable expectation for their theater to be shot up by a crazed maniac. Yes, the theater lost.
. Lemme explain: This means that ALL theaters should put on guards and weapon detectors by the front door. Wouldn't a grocery store expect to be shot up? Some mom & pop jewelry store should expect to be attacked. Everyone should be, and you will be sued when it happens. And, this frothing judge will declare that you are the bad guy. Pay up.
I read that BP has paid enough money to Texas that Texas Parks and Wildlife has bought a bunch of land and will build a new State Park. I don't think this was the intent of the money that BP had to pay. I believe it is wrong. Nobody asked. How long will BP be punished? Over-kill.
============
time to eat - more tomorrow - I have a couple of humor things - maybe this afternoon.
m
Sunday, August 24, 2014
sleep plus
Today is the day to step out on your back porch. I didn't say Stay on your back porch, just step outside. It is hot - oppressive hot. No wind, No breeze, No movement. Only the sound of Oscar barking at me to throw his ball. This is THE day to step out on the back porch and record your heat memory of this summer. Then, next winter, when you have one of those north winds blowing you off the porch, maybe you can play back this memory and remember why summer can be so tough in Texas ... and why you love spring and fall.
********************************************************************************
In spite of what I scribed about no movement outside, today the hummingbirds are battling for dominance over our feeders. We tried and could not count how many are here. Those critters are so fast, it is difficult to determine which ones have been counted. My favorite are the ruby throated ones. That is such a pretty red.
*********************************************************************************
Today should go down in history. A plaque should be inscribed and mounted somewhere of importance. After lunch we laid down for a nap. I was so sleepy I couldn't hold my head up to play Candy Crush. All of the dogs were in the house, sleeping. Why a plack/plaque? My wife and I both woke up completely on our own. Not one dog started barking the entire sleep time - AND - more remarkable per chance - the phone did not ring at all. Do you know how remarkable that is?
.
I can remember Sunday afternoons after we first married and I got my first real job. We moved into a small house in Sudan. After ...
=========== COMMERCIAL BREAK =================
It is now 4:37 pm. Our phone just rang: it is uh 1-800 number from "Unknown Caller" .... our very first 1-800 call of the day .... (don't you just love caller ID?) Another plaque to hang please.
=========== END COMMERCIAL BREAK =============
.... After lunch we might plop down on the couch or the bed or an easy chair. More than once I was shaken awake by the sound of a car door slamming outside. Usually it was my parents who drove up from Levelland for their Sunday afternoon out. Now that I look back -- not then through sleep filled eyes -- that was sorta nice. My father, being cheap and things were different back then, would NEVER had thought to call us to see if we were going to be home. They never seemed to stay for supper - just stop in and visit. Of course, of course, of course, this happened more frequently after Christine, their first born grandchild, entered into our world. New parents can remember when getting a few short extra winks of sleep were glorious.
********************************************************************************
Our first house was in Lubbock - I'll talk about that later. We had money of our own. It was the first time we had money. Naturally I lusted for a better car. I had fallen madly in love with the big Pontiac. We drove to Lubbock a few times and looked around - I can remember looking at a big Olds. It was okay; but I was not in love.
.
One of those Sunday afternoons - nap time - car door slam - etc. We went out to meet and greet under the big tree in the front yard. My father was driving a light blue 1963 Pontiac Star Chief. It was just beautiful to me. It seems he borrowed it from a Levelland car dealer and drove it up for us to see. I cannot remember what we paid or how we paid or when we paid. All I know is that we had that beautiful blue Pontiac Star Chief and became a two car family.
.
As much as I might have fussed in my earlier life about the things my father did, this was one of his shinest hours. In the future, I see a blog describing all the cars I have owned. I'm sure that is one you'll long to read.
enough for now.
If I remember, next: I will describe all the places I have lived. That should keep your interest peeked....or is that peaked?
.
mtz #3
.
A. ( Let's go see if a fresh glass of iced tea will make the day better.)
B. ( My wife tells me that my previous post was wrong. She says we sat in the front seat next to Mrs. Allison our driver.)
C. ( It is 5 o'clock. Time to feed the dogs. They are such good critters.)
********************************************************************************
In spite of what I scribed about no movement outside, today the hummingbirds are battling for dominance over our feeders. We tried and could not count how many are here. Those critters are so fast, it is difficult to determine which ones have been counted. My favorite are the ruby throated ones. That is such a pretty red.
*********************************************************************************
Today should go down in history. A plaque should be inscribed and mounted somewhere of importance. After lunch we laid down for a nap. I was so sleepy I couldn't hold my head up to play Candy Crush. All of the dogs were in the house, sleeping. Why a plack/plaque? My wife and I both woke up completely on our own. Not one dog started barking the entire sleep time - AND - more remarkable per chance - the phone did not ring at all. Do you know how remarkable that is?
.
I can remember Sunday afternoons after we first married and I got my first real job. We moved into a small house in Sudan. After ...
=========== COMMERCIAL BREAK =================
It is now 4:37 pm. Our phone just rang: it is uh 1-800 number from "Unknown Caller" .... our very first 1-800 call of the day .... (don't you just love caller ID?) Another plaque to hang please.
=========== END COMMERCIAL BREAK =============
.... After lunch we might plop down on the couch or the bed or an easy chair. More than once I was shaken awake by the sound of a car door slamming outside. Usually it was my parents who drove up from Levelland for their Sunday afternoon out. Now that I look back -- not then through sleep filled eyes -- that was sorta nice. My father, being cheap and things were different back then, would NEVER had thought to call us to see if we were going to be home. They never seemed to stay for supper - just stop in and visit. Of course, of course, of course, this happened more frequently after Christine, their first born grandchild, entered into our world. New parents can remember when getting a few short extra winks of sleep were glorious.
********************************************************************************
Our first house was in Lubbock - I'll talk about that later. We had money of our own. It was the first time we had money. Naturally I lusted for a better car. I had fallen madly in love with the big Pontiac. We drove to Lubbock a few times and looked around - I can remember looking at a big Olds. It was okay; but I was not in love.
.
One of those Sunday afternoons - nap time - car door slam - etc. We went out to meet and greet under the big tree in the front yard. My father was driving a light blue 1963 Pontiac Star Chief. It was just beautiful to me. It seems he borrowed it from a Levelland car dealer and drove it up for us to see. I cannot remember what we paid or how we paid or when we paid. All I know is that we had that beautiful blue Pontiac Star Chief and became a two car family.
.
As much as I might have fussed in my earlier life about the things my father did, this was one of his shinest hours. In the future, I see a blog describing all the cars I have owned. I'm sure that is one you'll long to read.
enough for now.
If I remember, next: I will describe all the places I have lived. That should keep your interest peeked....or is that peaked?
.
mtz #3
.
A. ( Let's go see if a fresh glass of iced tea will make the day better.)
B. ( My wife tells me that my previous post was wrong. She says we sat in the front seat next to Mrs. Allison our driver.)
C. ( It is 5 o'clock. Time to feed the dogs. They are such good critters.)
Saturday, August 23, 2014
Dating
It has been a FOREVER since I posted. Summer has been busy and I, lazy. I was uh-Thinkin' --- I should just write down things as I dream of them. This one for instance:
We listen to Ed Wallace on 570 AM every Sat. morn. He is suppose to be a car guy - but he writes other type articles for several major news places. I find the show interesting even if he is a bit egocentric. Lovable guy in my estimation. His website is www.Insideautomotive.com There is a lot of stuff at that site - and he doesn't seem to be either Democrat (boo) or Republican (yea).
Today he is talking about some study which shows that the music of your youth is the "best" because it comes from your youth. It seems your brain releases endor-phones (sp) and other pleasure stuff when memories of your youth come up; thus, the music is the best. Make up the rest of the story for yourself. That could be why my father liked Lawrence Welk and we didn't / couldn't.
So this type of thought brought a song / stone to my mind which came from my 9th grade year - I think. It could have been the 10th grade. Nah, it was the 9th grade.
My romance with my wife started in the 8th grade, mid-8th grade. She was a 7th grader in our JHS band. I was 1st chair cornet; she was 1st chair alto saxophone. Sitting next to me was Thomas Taylor - I wrote about him in an earlier missive, probably with this part of the stone. Sitting next to my wife, Brenda Joy Cooper, was Nancy Cole. Thomas was taken with Nancy; he always talked about her.
Now somewhere in Thomas' mind, he must have thought that I had more liberty in my life than I did cause he wanted me to show an interest in Brenda Joy, double date - I didn't even know her name at this time - afterall, this was Band; I was busy playing my horn and dodging spit wads. So, with his prodding I did talk to her somehow, and we never moved on to anyone else.
Marching contest back in those days was in the spring. You'd go to concert and sightreading; then, in the afternoon, they would start marching contest. That had to be a tough day for directors. Our JHS went to concert contest that year at Tech in Lubbock. I could be wrong about the contest location. Doesn't matter really. We JHS kids ended up on the Tech campus looking around and visiting the museum. Strange what one can remember at times.
That evening we went to the Lubbock stadium and watched the bands march including our Levelland H.S. marching band. By this time brother Jim was in the marching band. He had described the marching routine for me. Why? I don't know. In those days a band had to include specific marching maneuvers: flanks, columns, obliques, etc. The band lined up on the far sideline and marched towards the judges. They completed all required maneuvers before reaching the hash mark. Then, they spent the rest of their show just doing what they wanted. Me thinks that released them to be more innovative.
So I sat with Brenda Joy and Thomas sat beside Nancy in the stands. I was so innocent. At one point trying to hold her hand, I laid my hand on her knee - she was wearing our red wool band pants. Thomas was all excited because I had made "The Move." I didn't even realize that I was being aggressive. Embarrassed, I moved the hand. Strange what we remember.
I do remember that she would not let me hold her hand in public or if ANYONE were near. It was a battle to do that. This brings me to the song. One evening the Methodist youth went to Lubbock for a skating party - roller skates (not blades or ice folks). My wife was a good skater. I lacked certain skills other than going straight ahead.
She and I rode in the back seat of Sharon Allison's cadillac. Sharon's mom drove. That was luxury...a Cadillac. We rode over there together and back in the back seat. I cannot remember if we held hands while skating - I suppose that would have been socially correct. On to The Song.
I know you won't find this as funny as we. On the way home, the back seat was dark, really dark. I made the move for her left hand. She pulled away. I tried again. Just then on the radio, the song: "Let Me Go, Let Me Go, Let Me Gooooo.....Lover. Set me free, Set me free....." She and I looked at each other and giggled. I made the move again, and scored.
That's it. Nobody said all blogs had to be earth shaking.
mtz
We listen to Ed Wallace on 570 AM every Sat. morn. He is suppose to be a car guy - but he writes other type articles for several major news places. I find the show interesting even if he is a bit egocentric. Lovable guy in my estimation. His website is www.Insideautomotive.com There is a lot of stuff at that site - and he doesn't seem to be either Democrat (boo) or Republican (yea).
Today he is talking about some study which shows that the music of your youth is the "best" because it comes from your youth. It seems your brain releases endor-phones (sp) and other pleasure stuff when memories of your youth come up; thus, the music is the best. Make up the rest of the story for yourself. That could be why my father liked Lawrence Welk and we didn't / couldn't.
So this type of thought brought a song / stone to my mind which came from my 9th grade year - I think. It could have been the 10th grade. Nah, it was the 9th grade.
My romance with my wife started in the 8th grade, mid-8th grade. She was a 7th grader in our JHS band. I was 1st chair cornet; she was 1st chair alto saxophone. Sitting next to me was Thomas Taylor - I wrote about him in an earlier missive, probably with this part of the stone. Sitting next to my wife, Brenda Joy Cooper, was Nancy Cole. Thomas was taken with Nancy; he always talked about her.
Now somewhere in Thomas' mind, he must have thought that I had more liberty in my life than I did cause he wanted me to show an interest in Brenda Joy, double date - I didn't even know her name at this time - afterall, this was Band; I was busy playing my horn and dodging spit wads. So, with his prodding I did talk to her somehow, and we never moved on to anyone else.
Marching contest back in those days was in the spring. You'd go to concert and sightreading; then, in the afternoon, they would start marching contest. That had to be a tough day for directors. Our JHS went to concert contest that year at Tech in Lubbock. I could be wrong about the contest location. Doesn't matter really. We JHS kids ended up on the Tech campus looking around and visiting the museum. Strange what one can remember at times.
That evening we went to the Lubbock stadium and watched the bands march including our Levelland H.S. marching band. By this time brother Jim was in the marching band. He had described the marching routine for me. Why? I don't know. In those days a band had to include specific marching maneuvers: flanks, columns, obliques, etc. The band lined up on the far sideline and marched towards the judges. They completed all required maneuvers before reaching the hash mark. Then, they spent the rest of their show just doing what they wanted. Me thinks that released them to be more innovative.
So I sat with Brenda Joy and Thomas sat beside Nancy in the stands. I was so innocent. At one point trying to hold her hand, I laid my hand on her knee - she was wearing our red wool band pants. Thomas was all excited because I had made "The Move." I didn't even realize that I was being aggressive. Embarrassed, I moved the hand. Strange what we remember.
I do remember that she would not let me hold her hand in public or if ANYONE were near. It was a battle to do that. This brings me to the song. One evening the Methodist youth went to Lubbock for a skating party - roller skates (not blades or ice folks). My wife was a good skater. I lacked certain skills other than going straight ahead.
She and I rode in the back seat of Sharon Allison's cadillac. Sharon's mom drove. That was luxury...a Cadillac. We rode over there together and back in the back seat. I cannot remember if we held hands while skating - I suppose that would have been socially correct. On to The Song.
I know you won't find this as funny as we. On the way home, the back seat was dark, really dark. I made the move for her left hand. She pulled away. I tried again. Just then on the radio, the song: "Let Me Go, Let Me Go, Let Me Gooooo.....Lover. Set me free, Set me free....." She and I looked at each other and giggled. I made the move again, and scored.
That's it. Nobody said all blogs had to be earth shaking.
mtz
Monday, July 7, 2014
My parents
I had my oil changed the other day. Another customer's behavior reminded me of my father.
Then, as I seem to do, my mind began to wander. Sometimes I wander a little bit - sometimes I wander way over the hill. Not having either of my parents at hand to ask - I started thinking about what my folks did when I was just a lad. I could not get the chronological order in place.
Examples:
1. I was born in Tecumseh, Okla before WWII. You can visit the town and see my statue on main street. My mom [Sara LeAnna Smith Metze ] was the band director in Tecumseh, Okla. when I was born. I was born at home with my two older brothers looking on.
Somewhere there is a photo of my oldest brother Clyde Marshall Metze III (about 4 years old) standing in a cut down band uniform with a baton under his arm. In those days it was popular for a band to have a little kid mascot - and, since mom was the director, it only followed. I do not know what my father was doing at this time. No clue.
2. During WWII my father [Clyde Marshall Metze, Jr. ] taught ground school to future pilots at Tinker Air Force Base (I think) near OK City. He was the only one of his family (4 boys) who did not serve in the Air Force flying planes or other stuffs. I believe it was my Uncle Bob (Robert) who crashed a B-29 into an Arizona mountain and changed his career to being a Lawyer - provost Marshall seems somewhat familiar.
3. I know that at one time (and times were hard) my father toured the southwestern part of Oklahoma teaching bands in many schools - he was a music man - selling the instruments and band uniforms. I do know that he started the band in Altus, Okla at that time.
4. Another of his adventures was to go to different towns in the evening - set up a large screen - and show movies (16mm w/ sound) in the town square. I am not sure how he made a profit doing this, but I bet he did.
5. My father had a math degree (math, I am sure) from Cameron College in Lawton, Ok. Lawton was a few miles from Temple, Ok where he was raised. He met my mom at college - I am guessing she was getting an elementary teaching degree - not sure though. They were very good friends with the President of the college at that time - a name that will come to me later...just did: John Coffey, I think, it was. Anyway, I believe he protected them somewhat in that time. My father was all-conference center on the Cameron football team.
Keep in mind this was in the late 20s and early 30s. Football players had no real protection from injuries. Sometimes in my teen years, I would theorize that my father must have had a brain injury playing football. He came through the system too early to "Sue" his college for brain injuries. No, my mom was not a cheerleader, but she did play violin.
I don't know if it happened in their Freshman or Sophomore years - kids were stupid even back then. They just upped and got married - no income - nothing - just going to school. Again, this is probably where John Coffey helped them. It is safe to assume they graduated from college. I don't have the slightest idea how long it took.
I do know that in the early years of their marriage, they took in my father's 3 younger brothers and raised them through college and the war. Considering one of them was a lawyer, another became a VET, and the third an Electrical Engineer - seems to me, my parents did a good job. My grandfather was somewhat of a lush - a very intelligent lush, but a lush. Getting the boys out of that house was probably a good thing.
6. I believe mom was the band director in Stroud, Ok when Marshall was born in 1936. She did a lot of band directing in the early years. One of her favorite stories - and, yes, she had several - was that she would win marching contests by having her twirlers do cartwheels in front of the judges stand. This wouldn't work today. Judges see skin everywhere: at the mall, at the beach, at school - you get the idea. Back in the 30s and 40s, girls didn't flaunt their girliness as much. Now a twirler, different story perhaps.
7. I just don't know how or when, but around 1946 or so, we were in Kansas. My father worked as a logger for a seismograph crew in Kansas looking for oil. He ran the logging truck which recorded the explosions under the ground giving a picture of the rocks beneath. We boys went out with him a couple of times to the drilling place, but it was truly boring...and hot.
Pop worked for Standard Oil of Indiana - which eventually became Amoco (and other names) and today is owned by BP. So you might say that BP put me through college.
We lived in several towns in southern Kansas: Dodge City (2 x), Meade, Syracuse - my younger brother Pat was born in Fowler, KS while we were in Syracuse - 1949 it was. He actually was born in a hospital - pampered, I'd say. We had a brand new black 1948 Hudson. What a car!!! Those are two stones we can save for later. Over time, Dad was transferred to Crete, Nebraska -about 30 miles from Lincoln. I spent my 4th grade in Crete. Lincoln had a television station. We had a small screen TV - that would have been around 1950 or so.
I couldn't say why, but the next transfer was to Odessa, TX where he worked in the oil field. The North Cowden plant was the name of the area. I spent my 5th grade in that town. My only real remembrance of his working in Odessa was something about him being knocked off an oil tank railroad car by a hose which wasn't attached properly. I seem to remember several days of tense worrying. They were tougher in those days.
8. His final transfer was to Levelland, TX to the Levelland Gasoline Plant where he was the head roustabout. Over the years they gave him different titles such as Head Electrician and so forth. At one point he was the guy in the field running the oil pipelines ( field foreman ) - except in Levelland a lot of the stuff they did had to do with Propane gas. Natural gas is thick around Levelland. For the first few years, we lived at the "Plant Camp" - they had 5 houses out there for the bosses. I felt special...Indoor plumbing and all that.
9. I will close with the thought that at each town - each place we lived, my mom was a teacher, usually an elementary teacher. When we lived in Dodge City she taught kindergarten. Dodge had half day classes for 5 year olds. To save money my mom:
A. Changed my birthday on my birth certificate from November 4 to November 2nd. She used clorox to delete the old number and wrote in the new.
B. Consequently, I started school one year early. I had a half day kindergarten class with some lady - then, mom would get me, and I would have a half day kindergarten class with her in a different school building.
I thought it was normal - I remember 2 things about kindergarten. One was mom's class was on the 2nd floor - one of those big square brick buildings. The second was my rug. Each student brought a rug to school We laid down on them and took a short nap. My guess is this was the only way the teacher had a break all day. Mine was a multicolored rug - row after row of different colored heavy yarn woven into a mat. I still see these around at times. Someday, I will buy one just to have and leave to my children to sell in a garage sale after I'm gone.
10. My father continued to work until he was 62. He retired and died of leukemia soon after. My mom continued to teach elementary until retirement. In her later teaching years, she worked with kids in the English-as-a-2nd-language area. I have no idea when she learned to speak Spanish. There is so much I just failed to ask. Too Late now.
SEE YA GUYS SOON.
In the near future, I have a BLUGGY to write about the man in the oil change place. That should keep you on edge waiting.
m3
Then, as I seem to do, my mind began to wander. Sometimes I wander a little bit - sometimes I wander way over the hill. Not having either of my parents at hand to ask - I started thinking about what my folks did when I was just a lad. I could not get the chronological order in place.
Examples:
1. I was born in Tecumseh, Okla before WWII. You can visit the town and see my statue on main street. My mom [Sara LeAnna Smith Metze ] was the band director in Tecumseh, Okla. when I was born. I was born at home with my two older brothers looking on.
Somewhere there is a photo of my oldest brother Clyde Marshall Metze III (about 4 years old) standing in a cut down band uniform with a baton under his arm. In those days it was popular for a band to have a little kid mascot - and, since mom was the director, it only followed. I do not know what my father was doing at this time. No clue.
2. During WWII my father [Clyde Marshall Metze, Jr. ] taught ground school to future pilots at Tinker Air Force Base (I think) near OK City. He was the only one of his family (4 boys) who did not serve in the Air Force flying planes or other stuffs. I believe it was my Uncle Bob (Robert) who crashed a B-29 into an Arizona mountain and changed his career to being a Lawyer - provost Marshall seems somewhat familiar.
3. I know that at one time (and times were hard) my father toured the southwestern part of Oklahoma teaching bands in many schools - he was a music man - selling the instruments and band uniforms. I do know that he started the band in Altus, Okla at that time.
4. Another of his adventures was to go to different towns in the evening - set up a large screen - and show movies (16mm w/ sound) in the town square. I am not sure how he made a profit doing this, but I bet he did.
5. My father had a math degree (math, I am sure) from Cameron College in Lawton, Ok. Lawton was a few miles from Temple, Ok where he was raised. He met my mom at college - I am guessing she was getting an elementary teaching degree - not sure though. They were very good friends with the President of the college at that time - a name that will come to me later...just did: John Coffey, I think, it was. Anyway, I believe he protected them somewhat in that time. My father was all-conference center on the Cameron football team.
Keep in mind this was in the late 20s and early 30s. Football players had no real protection from injuries. Sometimes in my teen years, I would theorize that my father must have had a brain injury playing football. He came through the system too early to "Sue" his college for brain injuries. No, my mom was not a cheerleader, but she did play violin.
I don't know if it happened in their Freshman or Sophomore years - kids were stupid even back then. They just upped and got married - no income - nothing - just going to school. Again, this is probably where John Coffey helped them. It is safe to assume they graduated from college. I don't have the slightest idea how long it took.
I do know that in the early years of their marriage, they took in my father's 3 younger brothers and raised them through college and the war. Considering one of them was a lawyer, another became a VET, and the third an Electrical Engineer - seems to me, my parents did a good job. My grandfather was somewhat of a lush - a very intelligent lush, but a lush. Getting the boys out of that house was probably a good thing.
6. I believe mom was the band director in Stroud, Ok when Marshall was born in 1936. She did a lot of band directing in the early years. One of her favorite stories - and, yes, she had several - was that she would win marching contests by having her twirlers do cartwheels in front of the judges stand. This wouldn't work today. Judges see skin everywhere: at the mall, at the beach, at school - you get the idea. Back in the 30s and 40s, girls didn't flaunt their girliness as much. Now a twirler, different story perhaps.
7. I just don't know how or when, but around 1946 or so, we were in Kansas. My father worked as a logger for a seismograph crew in Kansas looking for oil. He ran the logging truck which recorded the explosions under the ground giving a picture of the rocks beneath. We boys went out with him a couple of times to the drilling place, but it was truly boring...and hot.
Pop worked for Standard Oil of Indiana - which eventually became Amoco (and other names) and today is owned by BP. So you might say that BP put me through college.
We lived in several towns in southern Kansas: Dodge City (2 x), Meade, Syracuse - my younger brother Pat was born in Fowler, KS while we were in Syracuse - 1949 it was. He actually was born in a hospital - pampered, I'd say. We had a brand new black 1948 Hudson. What a car!!! Those are two stones we can save for later. Over time, Dad was transferred to Crete, Nebraska -about 30 miles from Lincoln. I spent my 4th grade in Crete. Lincoln had a television station. We had a small screen TV - that would have been around 1950 or so.
I couldn't say why, but the next transfer was to Odessa, TX where he worked in the oil field. The North Cowden plant was the name of the area. I spent my 5th grade in that town. My only real remembrance of his working in Odessa was something about him being knocked off an oil tank railroad car by a hose which wasn't attached properly. I seem to remember several days of tense worrying. They were tougher in those days.
8. His final transfer was to Levelland, TX to the Levelland Gasoline Plant where he was the head roustabout. Over the years they gave him different titles such as Head Electrician and so forth. At one point he was the guy in the field running the oil pipelines ( field foreman ) - except in Levelland a lot of the stuff they did had to do with Propane gas. Natural gas is thick around Levelland. For the first few years, we lived at the "Plant Camp" - they had 5 houses out there for the bosses. I felt special...Indoor plumbing and all that.
9. I will close with the thought that at each town - each place we lived, my mom was a teacher, usually an elementary teacher. When we lived in Dodge City she taught kindergarten. Dodge had half day classes for 5 year olds. To save money my mom:
A. Changed my birthday on my birth certificate from November 4 to November 2nd. She used clorox to delete the old number and wrote in the new.
B. Consequently, I started school one year early. I had a half day kindergarten class with some lady - then, mom would get me, and I would have a half day kindergarten class with her in a different school building.
I thought it was normal - I remember 2 things about kindergarten. One was mom's class was on the 2nd floor - one of those big square brick buildings. The second was my rug. Each student brought a rug to school We laid down on them and took a short nap. My guess is this was the only way the teacher had a break all day. Mine was a multicolored rug - row after row of different colored heavy yarn woven into a mat. I still see these around at times. Someday, I will buy one just to have and leave to my children to sell in a garage sale after I'm gone.
10. My father continued to work until he was 62. He retired and died of leukemia soon after. My mom continued to teach elementary until retirement. In her later teaching years, she worked with kids in the English-as-a-2nd-language area. I have no idea when she learned to speak Spanish. There is so much I just failed to ask. Too Late now.
SEE YA GUYS SOON.
In the near future, I have a BLUGGY to write about the man in the oil change place. That should keep you on edge waiting.
m3
Sunday, June 29, 2014
home, home, home at last
this be a quickie.
cause me is hot & tired.
.
As a preview of coming attractions here on this page, we have just returned from two weeks on the road in our motorhome with our 4 dogs. I believe that if you are going to travel with a pack of critters, a motorhome (travel trailer) is the only way to go. If I get inspired, I will write more of the adventure on the next blog. Right now, we are home and pleased to be here.
.
When our two little boys got home, they had what my wife calls a "runaway." They just ran back and forth and in circles all over the place - inside and out - chortling - making throat noises as they ran. They were so happy to be back home. 30 minutes later, all 4 pooches were coiled up on a bed fast asleep. They were so happy.
.
I think I am pleased too - didn't go running around in circles though.
.
But the yard - two whole weeks of growth after a substantial rain or two - just waiting to be mowed. What critters lie hidden beneath the grass awaiting my wrong step? This morning I mowed the part of the yard that requires my hand push mower. Sure it is a power mower, John Deere driven, rear wheel drive, electric start, loads of power -- nevertheless, mowing outside takes it toll. Later I'll climb on the ole John Deere tractor and smooth out the rest of the yard.
.
The week before we left, my weed eater just quit. It has the nickname: "The Terminator." What a machine!! But it quit. It would run maybe 10 seconds then putter out. I figure the carburetor was dirty and clogged after six years of tireless whacking. It had lost its air filter too. Into the shop it went. They warned me of a two week wait. Perfect! Call on answering machine yesterday; it is ready.
.
The week before we left, our ice maker just quit. It has the nickname: "The Coolerator." What a machine!! But it quit. No ice tumbling into the container; none. I tried to go in and remove the ice maker from the freezer, but it is just too dangerous for me. If it just needs to defrost, fine. But, if I break it in the removal process - I get to buy a new one. After six years of tireless cubing, it stopped. Clunk. No more ice. I am thinking of trying a hair dryer just to see if it would release all of that pent up energy.
.
The week before we left, the sound on this computer just quit. It has no nickname. Now, c'mon, the sound quit. The computer tells me I have not installed a sound driver. Well that is just wrong. Question: do you argue with a computer? Waste of time, me thinks. I'll find a guy in town who can figure this out for me. I don't listen to much on the computer anyway. My wife likes the sound things on facebook and I do get some emails which have nice things.
.
That's all for now. I have almost stopped sweating from the mowing. I soaked 2 (wide) head / sweat bands. Came in; drank a big glass of water; ate a tomato with salt; now here. I think I will see if the cool water still runs in the shower.
m3
cause me is hot & tired.
.
As a preview of coming attractions here on this page, we have just returned from two weeks on the road in our motorhome with our 4 dogs. I believe that if you are going to travel with a pack of critters, a motorhome (travel trailer) is the only way to go. If I get inspired, I will write more of the adventure on the next blog. Right now, we are home and pleased to be here.
.
When our two little boys got home, they had what my wife calls a "runaway." They just ran back and forth and in circles all over the place - inside and out - chortling - making throat noises as they ran. They were so happy to be back home. 30 minutes later, all 4 pooches were coiled up on a bed fast asleep. They were so happy.
.
I think I am pleased too - didn't go running around in circles though.
.
But the yard - two whole weeks of growth after a substantial rain or two - just waiting to be mowed. What critters lie hidden beneath the grass awaiting my wrong step? This morning I mowed the part of the yard that requires my hand push mower. Sure it is a power mower, John Deere driven, rear wheel drive, electric start, loads of power -- nevertheless, mowing outside takes it toll. Later I'll climb on the ole John Deere tractor and smooth out the rest of the yard.
.
The week before we left, my weed eater just quit. It has the nickname: "The Terminator." What a machine!! But it quit. It would run maybe 10 seconds then putter out. I figure the carburetor was dirty and clogged after six years of tireless whacking. It had lost its air filter too. Into the shop it went. They warned me of a two week wait. Perfect! Call on answering machine yesterday; it is ready.
.
The week before we left, our ice maker just quit. It has the nickname: "The Coolerator." What a machine!! But it quit. No ice tumbling into the container; none. I tried to go in and remove the ice maker from the freezer, but it is just too dangerous for me. If it just needs to defrost, fine. But, if I break it in the removal process - I get to buy a new one. After six years of tireless cubing, it stopped. Clunk. No more ice. I am thinking of trying a hair dryer just to see if it would release all of that pent up energy.
.
The week before we left, the sound on this computer just quit. It has no nickname. Now, c'mon, the sound quit. The computer tells me I have not installed a sound driver. Well that is just wrong. Question: do you argue with a computer? Waste of time, me thinks. I'll find a guy in town who can figure this out for me. I don't listen to much on the computer anyway. My wife likes the sound things on facebook and I do get some emails which have nice things.
.
That's all for now. I have almost stopped sweating from the mowing. I soaked 2 (wide) head / sweat bands. Came in; drank a big glass of water; ate a tomato with salt; now here. I think I will see if the cool water still runs in the shower.
m3
Thursday, June 12, 2014
Man gets 60 years
My father use to read articles to us from the newspaper - or parts of articles. Nobody wanted to listen. I suppose I got my love of newspaper reading from him. Just don't know. I read the paper every morning, pretty much every word I can. Sometimes I run across an article that needs repeating. If you will forgive me for reading to you aloud, see below.
.
First of all (not the above mentioned article) I see that Parkland Hospital in Dallas is raising their pay for the lowest pay scale from $8.25 per hour to a bit over $10. I think this is nice. My next sentence may seem political ... In my opinion, this is who should raise the rates not our government. If a company wants to keep certain workers happy, they should pay enough to keep them. Seattle raised their minimum rate to $10+. I think this is wrong. The Seattle government should stay out of free enterprise, perhaps finding a way to encourage better pay - perhaps. As it stands, I hope all the fast food joints raise their prices to pay for the higher debt.
.
That was not what egged me into writing this blog today. An article by Julieta Chiquillo - a newspaper reporter unknown to me; she is not paying me to post her name. I wish she were. I like money as much as the next guy.
.
In the town of Allen, where they built that $20 quad-drillion high school stadium that has now cracked and will have to be redone soon -- "A judge sentenced an Allen man to 60 years in prison Wednesday...." This Guy hired a hit man to kill his wife - to kill the wife of the Guy, not to kill the wife of the hit man. The reporter did not make that clear in the article, so I assume I am right. The Guy (not the hit man) will be 110 years old when he gets out of prison. Nothing mentioned how old the wife would be or whether she plans to be waiting for him.
.
To further slow this narrative, I might point out that "on Wednesday" the judge gave the man 60 years. The guy doesn't just have to go jail on Wednesdays. Didja follow that?
.
Now I quote from the article: "Steven Gordon, 50, had problems with Malaysian wife." Right there is a sign that someone is not too bright. Why do you go out and get a Malaysian wife? I'm thinking it is for one reason, (possibly 2) and one reason only (possibly two). The 2nd possible reason is the man looks like the south side of a Shar Pei going north. The first reason should be obvious to any person, excluding "companionship and she can cook" as possibilities. So the guy had problems with his Malaysian wife. Shocker. It could be that 60 years in the slammer might be a good trade-off.
.
More quotes: "He found a man on Craigslist to devise a plan to have his wife deported." ON CRAIGSLIST???? I roll my eyes. "The plan then changed to having her murdered. Gordon (the guy) paid more than $25,000 to the hit man." How does a GUY this stupid accumulate $25,000? It boggles the mind.
.
"Frustrated by delays, Gordon pressed the hit man, who then threatened Gordon's life. Gordon sought help from the police. His wife not (SIC) not harmed. Last month, a jury convicted Gordon of solicitation of capital murder."
.
Summary -- so you go to CRAIGSLIST to hire someone for $25,000. The guy doesn't perform. You nag. He says bug off or I'll clean your plow. You complain to the police. I would like to see the tape of that interview. "Yes, sarge, I hired this guy to kill my wife, and now he is threatening ME. I need some protection."
.
Y'know, for all you single guys out there, there is a Malaysian beauty up in Allen just waiting to meet you. I don't know her name - but it should be public record.
.
And, as a last thought, what happened to the fraudulent Hit Man from Craigslist? - - - What heading is his skill listed under? Surely the police have looked into this.
Craigslist -- "Hit Men for Hire" Heading -- or -- "Wives sent back to Malaysia" Heading
.
Possibly -- Advertisement: Got $25,000 to throw away? Give me a call. Special rates for Malaysians and really stupid husbands.
I think I will close now and go see if lunch is ready.
mtz
.
First of all (not the above mentioned article) I see that Parkland Hospital in Dallas is raising their pay for the lowest pay scale from $8.25 per hour to a bit over $10. I think this is nice. My next sentence may seem political ... In my opinion, this is who should raise the rates not our government. If a company wants to keep certain workers happy, they should pay enough to keep them. Seattle raised their minimum rate to $10+. I think this is wrong. The Seattle government should stay out of free enterprise, perhaps finding a way to encourage better pay - perhaps. As it stands, I hope all the fast food joints raise their prices to pay for the higher debt.
.
That was not what egged me into writing this blog today. An article by Julieta Chiquillo - a newspaper reporter unknown to me; she is not paying me to post her name. I wish she were. I like money as much as the next guy.
.
In the town of Allen, where they built that $20 quad-drillion high school stadium that has now cracked and will have to be redone soon -- "A judge sentenced an Allen man to 60 years in prison Wednesday...." This Guy hired a hit man to kill his wife - to kill the wife of the Guy, not to kill the wife of the hit man. The reporter did not make that clear in the article, so I assume I am right. The Guy (not the hit man) will be 110 years old when he gets out of prison. Nothing mentioned how old the wife would be or whether she plans to be waiting for him.
.
To further slow this narrative, I might point out that "on Wednesday" the judge gave the man 60 years. The guy doesn't just have to go jail on Wednesdays. Didja follow that?
.
Now I quote from the article: "Steven Gordon, 50, had problems with Malaysian wife." Right there is a sign that someone is not too bright. Why do you go out and get a Malaysian wife? I'm thinking it is for one reason, (possibly 2) and one reason only (possibly two). The 2nd possible reason is the man looks like the south side of a Shar Pei going north. The first reason should be obvious to any person, excluding "companionship and she can cook" as possibilities. So the guy had problems with his Malaysian wife. Shocker. It could be that 60 years in the slammer might be a good trade-off.
.
More quotes: "He found a man on Craigslist to devise a plan to have his wife deported." ON CRAIGSLIST???? I roll my eyes. "The plan then changed to having her murdered. Gordon (the guy) paid more than $25,000 to the hit man." How does a GUY this stupid accumulate $25,000? It boggles the mind.
.
"Frustrated by delays, Gordon pressed the hit man, who then threatened Gordon's life. Gordon sought help from the police. His wife not (SIC) not harmed. Last month, a jury convicted Gordon of solicitation of capital murder."
.
Summary -- so you go to CRAIGSLIST to hire someone for $25,000. The guy doesn't perform. You nag. He says bug off or I'll clean your plow. You complain to the police. I would like to see the tape of that interview. "Yes, sarge, I hired this guy to kill my wife, and now he is threatening ME. I need some protection."
.
Y'know, for all you single guys out there, there is a Malaysian beauty up in Allen just waiting to meet you. I don't know her name - but it should be public record.
.
And, as a last thought, what happened to the fraudulent Hit Man from Craigslist? - - - What heading is his skill listed under? Surely the police have looked into this.
Craigslist -- "Hit Men for Hire" Heading -- or -- "Wives sent back to Malaysia" Heading
.
Possibly -- Advertisement: Got $25,000 to throw away? Give me a call. Special rates for Malaysians and really stupid husbands.
I think I will close now and go see if lunch is ready.
mtz
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