Boys and Their Fathers

     By this point in history, we've all heard the expression "It's like herding cats!" I can tell you from experience this phrase is relative to the "Cats" you are trying to herd!!!
     When it comes to these "Cats", The Shadow, The Jedi, and The Hulk; picture taking is prime-time sports! There were about a dozen taken in total and this is the best one. I love these guys, but damn they are singularly a handful; together they are a three ring show!
     The oldest brother stopped by for a couple of days. The youngest brother is getting married in a few weeks and the oldest isn't able to attend. So, as a consolation, he stopped in for a visit. It was a great joy having my three boys together. Like many of you whom have adult children. I stand in awe of them. They share such great familiarity and yet are so uniquely themselves. One feverishly claws back the layers on the bleeding edge of his career while another is engaged in mortal combat to find the top of the ladder by brute force all the while attempting to help everyone along the way (best of luck with that there Dude), and the other simply endures the modern age while struggling to come to grips with having been born five hundred years too late; as I said, "They are unique!" Despite their individual peculiarities, It's a comfort to know they're all really good guys. One might even say it's sort of a family tradition. One that may have skipped a generation?? At least for my own part. I can't say whether I am or not. I am certain you could easily find people with an opinion in both camps. Well??? Anyway, let me move forward by backing up a bit. Earlier this year through the miracle of modern science, I discovered the identity of my Biological Father. (An Aside: just looking at the term Biological Father. It's so clinical, formal, denuded of emotion. Somehow, it just doesn't seem fair though generally correct.)
     He's an interesting Cuss. I say this with the utmost respect and admiration. Perhaps Cuss isn't the best Nom De Gerre for him. There's always Rascal, Cheeky, Comical, Driven, Focused, Unique, ah hell, how about Dad. He's Dad. In the months since our discovery we've met up a few times for meals and visits. In short, meeting him has exceeded any expectations I could have held. He's married to a wondrous creature who I'm sure was created in a mad scientists secret lab somewhere. She is wicked! Wicked smart, wicked funny, etc... She's just Wickedly Awesome! Then again, she agreed to marry him, so he must have something going for him. Perhaps, he's simply a more experienced Cat. Yep, that's my father in a nutshell.
     Fifty-Three years is a long time to wait to meet your father. It doesn't take a PhD in Gerontology to know, statistically speaking, more water has passed under the bridge than there is left to pass; on this trip. It would be too easy for me and my mental quirks to feel incredibly sorry for myself. Hell, who knows, maybe I should, but I don't. I can't. There is absolutely nothing to be retrieved. All we have is the road ahead. Honestly, I'm really looking forward to it. I do have one confession to make. He does more in one day than I do in a week. If I ever had to follow him around I'd need to see if Elon Musk makes electric roller skates. Seriously, there is no grass growing under his feet.

     For those of you who have known me all of my life, this picture may give you pause. Take a good look. No, it's not me. It's my Father at about twenty. Freaky Huh!? If you thought it was me, you are not alone. I shared this picture, which I've been sitting on for a few months, with a select few of my "near and dear". Without exception, they couldn't place where this was taken. The reason is because they had assumed it was me. There was one exception; my favorite Aunt. Then again, she's her own brand of Wicked. If you get something past her, mark you calendar because you've done something. I will admit, there is a likeness, but i was never that thin. Okay, maybe I was, but the Army took care of that. Then again, there were three heat injuries that helped as well. Perhaps even a few Cheeseburgers too!!!
     One day not too long after we first met I got a call from him and he asked me if I wanted to get together for lunch in Dallas. I sat up straight and said, "yes sir, you bet." I figured he had some sort of business dealings in Dallas and he was squeezing me in between work functions, so I was "Johnny on the spot" at the Denny's where we decided to meet. He had previously told me that he would be unavailable for about a month. I was pretty excited that he had made time to grab lunch. We ate and talked and just visited in general. I told him I had gotten in trouble with Donna for not getting a picture of the two of us the first time we had lunch together and wasn't going to face her wrath on that subject again. He said he had no problem with a picture so I handed over my phone to an employee and what resulted was our first picture together. Even though, we are back lit and it makes it hard to see us, it's one of my favorite pics of all time.
     Remember when I told you about my Father in a nutshell above, spare me a couple more minutes and you'll find out how he became my Dad. I had assumed he was in Dallas for business and that it was luck or clever scheduling which afforded us this lunch. What would you say if I told you he drove up from Houston to  Dallas just to have lunch with me. Hold up a minute. We talk on the phone regularly, we share bad text messages (predictive text can make anyone illiterate), and he drove to Dallas and back for the sole purpose of taking me to lunch. "Boys and their Fathers!"

He drove up a Father and drove home a Dad.



Until I write again, Peace be with you!!!
Dave

Lucha-dedos??? What the hell is that??

Well as you can see by the picture, we have taken thumb wrestling to a whole new dimension. It's funny. The other day i was making my yearly run into Albertson's (yearly, that's a joke) when i saw the stack of gumball machines. Well, to make a long story short, one of them had these luchadores masks in them for thumb wrestling and instantly i knew i had to have a couple because the boys would freak out. Naturally, i was correct and for the next couple of weeks we played with them almost daily. I'd say that's not a bad return on a dollar. Then again how do you put a price on the laughter of children and their contentment.

I am happy to report Track and Field season is over. Yee Haw!!! No more late night trips to the school to get him after meets. Oh Wait, There is Spring Football. The big one is playing Middle Linebacker and Full Back; while the little one is a Defensive End and a Tight End. This is of course for those of you who have a passion for the game. As for me, i go because my kids play.

We had a few unwelcome guests in the house the past few days. I was telling the "Mad Scientist", that's the little one, about the first one and all he could do was ask questions. Was there a fiddle on the cephalothorax and how big were the petapulps?? I told him, all i knew was that it was a brownish spider. He asked me to take a picture if another showed up. Sure i said. After all, i smashed the first one. The next day, sure as thunder, i found a second one, but my picture taking and its longevity didn't have a harmonious climax. However, around seven that evening, i took several shots of this creature pictured at left. I then blew it up on my computer and got an hour long lesson on what cephalothorax and petapulps are. Oh Yeah, and this is a Brown Recluse or Fiddleback spider. The good news is they aren't aggressive and tend not to bite unless they feel threatened, but if they do bite the results can be severe. If you are curious, do a google image for fiddleback spider bite and you'll see what i mean. As for me, i'm just waiting on the bug guy.

We are going to DFW this weekend. I have got to get me some good Chinese food and some sewing needles. Then again, there are quite a number of people i'd like to visit with. It's going to be a short weekend, but i don't believe there is any other kind.

Lastly, the western half of my beloved state has seen a rash of range fires in the last couple of weeks. The pictures and first hand accounts are heart wrenching. I know all too well the devastation range fires can wage on property, livestock, and the people involved by them. My thoughts and prayers are with these people as i will forever be a part of them and they of me. It's little consolation, at this point, but range fires are a part of natures renewal process. I pray the grasses green up quickly.

I lied, lastly, my new phone is supposed to be able to blog to blogger. I'm going to try it out on the trip this weekend. So, if you stop by and find something unusually unintelligible, chalk it up to that.

Until i speak with y'all again, May Peace be with You,

Dave

What's good for the Gander

Here a while back i saw a commercial on TV that made me giggle. The basic set-up was designed around something like "The Antiques Roadshow". In the commercial, a woman had taken her item to the appraiser and he gave his appraisal. She brought him a mannequin hand with a little yellow bird in it and he told her that her bird in the hand should be worth two in the bush. This one made me giggle pretty good. I like it almost as much as i like the one where the retired drill sergeant is a therapist. That one is just funny to me. !!Cry Baby!!

This commercial reminded me of a writing class i had in school where we had to write a number of aphorisms. You know, singular truths, like Beauty is in the eye of the Beholder and so on. This is the class where i penned my now infamous aphorism; Always a bridegroom, but never a bride. I admit it's not very original, but it's cute all the same.

I remember this exercise as it was quite difficult for me. I met my deadline, but i wasn't very proud of what i accomplished.

Anyway, it snowed like mad here last week. I mean about a foot or more and the wind was

blowing like hell and the kids were home for a day or two. So, i was off my groove. I was Marshalling TV channels when this bird in the hand commercial came on and instantly i was struck with an idea. Why couldn't i make a bird in the hand??

I started running all of the old adages i knew through my head. I didn't want to re-do the bird in the hand, a penny saved is a penny earned lacked something creatively and what's good for the goose is good for the gander just didn't sing to me. Then it came to me, my adage.

I've had this old clock for some time and i've wanted to do something for my sewing room with it. Though, i no longer actually have a sewing room. What i do have is a kitchen table that suits me just fine for now. So, i presented my adage in a clock. Which now only seems fitting. Now for your enjoyment and mine, of course, here's my adage clock for my sewing room when i get one again.

I'm not going to tell you the adage that was the inspiration for this, but what i will say is that every time i look at it i giggle and swell with a sense of pride. I'm such a Wacko!!!

My wife has a clock and watch fetish, so naturally, she loves it. I was sort of inspired by the museum watches put out by Movado. I got Donner one shortly after she first saw one and i took the hint it was something she had to have.

I hope you can guess the adage, but if you can't i'll post it in the comments in a few days.

While i'm at it, i should tell you that my next project is a pair of house shoes. My feets get cold here and well i wouldn't be me if the design for them wasn't ridiculous. Think Stingray meets Patent Leather.

Until the next time i write, may peace be with you, Dave

Pen Pals are not Anachronistic

A few weeks ago i got an email through Facebook from a Japanese woman i knew from my days at the University of North Texas. She said she was doing a project that involved the mail and if i wanted to participate all i needed to do was send her my mailing address. Now, we've all gotten those emails about our rich uncle from Nigeria that left us ten million dollars and we just need to get it to an American bank or some such crap. So anytime someone i don't see or hear from regularly wants my mailing address, i'm a little skeptical. After all, i do place a premium on my privacy and afford some level of due diligence to protect it. Then again, i knew from the moment we met that she was a good person. So i took a chance and sent her my mailing address and waited to see what would come of it.

A couple of weeks later, i received a postcard in the mail from Chofu-Shi, Tokyo, Japan. A plain little card, stark white on both sides with her name just above mine. On the reverse, there was a brief little paragraph being guarded at the corners with watercolor koi fish in hues of aqua and violet. A reconnection made across a four year lull. One she closed simply with, "Hope to see all of you one day". What an offering of love. I have said it many times, but it is just as true each time i say it, "A letter is an act of genuine love, for there is nothing on this earth more precious than our time and to give our time freely with no concern for compensation is nothing short of a gift of love. Unconditional, open and free".

The next day i got out my collection of stationary and picked one that was simple and muted. Bone colored paper with stencils of something like sandy colored birch leaves across it and i began to return the love. I closed mine as simply as she, until we meet again, peace be with you.

In a world so full of complexity and demand on the spirit, don't lose sight of the joy simplicity can bring you. Surround yourself with love and that is what you will receive.

Until we meet again, Peace be with you,

Dave