"The Saga continues...."

And so the saga continues. Many, many, many changes have occurred since August, when the person who promised to love, honor and share in the expenses decided to take an early retirement from the Dallas Morning News to start her own business. In case you haven't followed the blog over the past year, Pattye opened a Antiques and Collectible store in Plano. It has been quite a learning experience for both of us and we feel like we have made a lot of strides and have turned a corner towards success in this market.
With the recent addition of her on-line Ebay store, Gathering Eggs, you will be able to see some of the many beautiful pieces she has acquired and now has listed. Follow the above link over there and I think you will be very impressed. Oh, and don't be afraid to buy something while you are there also!

My journey also has had some twists and changes as well.
In early November, I was offered a position as a Department Head with the "Big Orange Home Improvement company". Man, what an experience, particularly during the holiday season.
I am going to reserve some of my comments for a later time about what I have learned during these past two months. Many have to do with how incredibly rude people can be.....but that is for later.

The good news is that my situation has also turned a corner.
During this interim I came in contact with a well-known, well-respected and well-established swimming pool building and remodeling company that has offered me a position as their Retail Store Manager. And so with no trepidation, I have accepted and will be hanging up my Orange apron effective January 1.
Fountainhead Pools, will be my final stop in my long journey of employment. I am absolutely thrilled for the opportunity to work for a excellent team and develop their retail business to greater heights.
And so life continues.... which brings me to this point in the blog where I usually have something witty and philosophical to add.
You never know what looms around the corner waiting for you. Sometimes when you have doubts about where your next step will take you, all you can do is have faith, rely on your instincts and believe in yourself. And, most of all have, if you are as fortunate as Pattye and I, a trusted companion who believes in you and supports you in your decisions.
We are really blessed to have such great interaction between us.
Often, I remember the words her father read to us some 19 years ago when he performed our wedding ceremony.
From 1st Corinthians 13:13, he spoke of Faith, Hope and Love , the greatest of these is love. Yes, we have all three and they have allowed our saga to continue......

"What would Life be like if............."

What would Life be like today if................and this is a stretch, but if .....................Mary and Joseph would have had the Internet to try and book a reservation. I'm not being sacrilegious, just my ole dumb self.
You know there are still places in the world today that haven't changed in over 2000 years. Transportation is still by donkey. Communications are non-existent. Health care is nothing more than having a mid-wife provide a broken branch for an expectant mother to bite down on during childbirth. Thousands of illiterate people journeying to town to be taxed much like the trip to Bethlehem.
But why, if you believe in "The Christmas Story" from Luke 2, .....why did the Event occur at that time in the history of Man. Why then....why not now?
I believe in much of what is written and interpret it based on the teachings I had pounded into my head by the threatening nuns during my early years at Our Lady of Mercy Catholic School.
I have the visions that we see today of the Nativity scenes displayed in department store windows, front lawns, and of course "living" drive-by church parking lots.
But suppose, just suppose, that God had decided to make a change in his Palm Pilot Scheduler and decided that 2005 would be a good year, and let's see maybe, Richardson Texas might be the best location for the birth of Christ.
Would Mary and Joseph have logged onto travel.com and tried to make a reservation at a Quality Inn. Or even better, couldn't they have simply registered to pay their taxes by contacting the IRS on the Internet.
No thank goodness, it happened when it did. Timing is everything. I guess He really knows what He is doing.
And, it wouldn't have made for a very profound story, would it?
I like traditions. I like to read the great stories in the Bible. I love the story of the Journey to Bethlehem.
You know, when I think of Christmas in these terms, then the melancholy that usually overtakes me this of time of year (see: http://ireadthenews.blogspot.com/2005/12/it-is-best-of-times-it-is-worst-of.html) subsides and I truly see the meaning of Christmas.

Merry Christmas!....and thanks God for choosing December 25, 0000, it seems like the perfect day.

"It is the best of times, it is the worst of times"

Excuse me Charles Dickens, but since I can never seem to come up with such magical sentences as you then I must borrow your great gifts.
Yes, as Christmas approaches, it now becomes the best of time for me, but yet, the worst.
The best are obvious..... The holiday spirit. The joy of giving. The reuniting with family. Food, food and more food. And of course for those of us who still profess a faith in God, the anniversary of the birth of His son.
But unfortunately it also becomes a time of sadness for me.
Maybe I should blame it on the paintings by Norman Rockwell that used to appear on the covers of Life magazine at this time of year.
Rockwell's paintings always depicted what I thought Christmas should be like, but it never was that way and it still isn't today.
I don't become a Scrooge at Christmas, but just the opposite. I love to give. I love to entertain. And, Lord knows I love to eat.
It's just the melancholy that begins to creep in during these coming days. It has always happened and I am sure it will happen again this year.
I guess I like to picture Christmas surrounded by my family. The lovely wife with her kerchief serving sugar plums , whatever the hell that is. The grandchildren dressed in their nightgowns waiting impatiently to open their gifts. And I, waking up from a long winter's nap with my cap upon my head.
I do remember one of the better Christmas seasons though,............... well I thought I did, but I guess that was just a painting also.
Alas. I guess I'll just watch "It's a Wonderful Life", exchange a gift or two with Pattye. Wait for the kids and grandkids to come by and open their presents, eat and clean up the house.
................See, I told you it is the worst of times.........
Merry Christmas!!

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.

Dear Tom,

I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, "If I see it in your blog, it's so." Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?

I know, I know, this isn't really a letter to me, or in these days an e-mail to me, it's the story of a young girl in 1897 who wrote to the New York Sun asking if there was a Santa Claus after her father was unable to answer the question and suggested she write the newspaper.

But if I may take the liberty I would still like to answer her question.

To all of the Virginias out there and all of the kids from 8 to 80, of course there is a Santa Claus.

He's busy right now with all of his helpers collecting toys and gifts that he will spread under your Christmas tree.

I have seen his helpers standing in line at 5:00 in the morning, braving the cold and wind, in order to get the lowest price for gifts. I have seen his helpers demanding from store clerks to find additional items even though the store has been out of stock for days. I have seen his helpers walking casually by a Salvation Army volunteer avoiding eye contact so as not to have to part with any spare change. I have seen his helpers argue with other helpers in parking lots in order to get a spot closer to the front door of the store to save a few steps. I have seen and heard his helpers cuss about having to hang outside lights in order to celebrate the holiday season.

Yes Virginia, Santa's helpers are out there getting ready for Christmas.

Is this what it has come down to?

Each year we ask ourselves "what has happened to the meaning of Christmas?".

Yet we continue to put ourselves and families through such aggravation and misery that by the time comes around on Christmas morning we have become so frustrated that we have forgotten the true meaning of the holiday.

So, while we have a few weeks left. Let's put ourselves into the mindset of Virginia and all of the kids of the world.

Could you imagine the thrill on your child's face if you took your child to a Toys for Tots drop-off center and offered a gift to a needy family?

Do you think your child might receive some joy in dropping your loose change into a Salvation Army bucket?

Do you think your son or daughter might believe there really is a Santa Claus if they knew they could be one of his helpers and drop off some gifts to a homeless shelter?

I do. And I think it would probably be a Christmas they will always remember.

So, this year, let's try to prove to all of the Virginias that there truly is a Santa Claus!

"Some lessons I have learned recently"

O.K., Most of you know I have ventured into the world of retail with my new position as Department Head of the Lawn, Garden, Pool, Landscape etc. for a nationally known Home Improvement store with orange colors. (If you have ever noticed before this is how people on "Wheel of Fortune" describe the companies they work for when asked by Pat Sejak. It's because of some legal jargon regarding not being an official representative of the company.)
Sorry, got sidetracked.
Anyway. I have learned some new lessons in life.
One, I can't believe what such a**ho*** some people can be.
For some 20 odd years I have been either self-employed or worked on a contract basis.
This freedom of owning my own businesses has allowed to choose if I didn't like a way a customer was acting or if I found they were difficult to deal with, then I simply explained to them that I chose to no longer do business with them.
I remember one lady years ago when Pattye and I started our pool business that was insistent on having her pool serviced on a every other week basis. Well, what that means is you end up having to do twice the amount of work and are only receiving half the compensation.
Think of it like this. Suppose you have a housekeeper that comes once a week for $60.00. Well, you decide that you want to save a little money and have her come every other week. Naturally, the amount of work is going to increase (double dust bunnies and so forth). Well then, you pay more for the every other week work.
This lady was adamant when I told her that I could not provide the type of service she wanted and that she would have to find someone else. She said, "you have to do this". I said bye-bye.
Well, unfortunately, I don't own the orange-painted home improvement business and I have had to suck up or in one case actually walk away because a customer was flat out rude!!
As much as an ass I have been in my life, I can't think of one time, (okay, maybe one) when I have been a complete a**ho** to the person simply trying to do their job.
So, what happened to cause me to add this new lesson in life was during last week's big Friday after Thanksgiving and we were swamped and this guy wanted to see a manager.
I took the bait and with my smiling face said. "I am a manager".
This guy just started going on and on and saying something to the affect that "you just don't have anything in this store."
My natural instinct from years of owning my own place was to tell him to get the hell out and shop somewhere else and never come back.
Oops. Can't do that any more. So, I politely told him that I am sorry that he couldn't find what he was looking for and perhaps I could find an alternative way of meeting his demands.
He kept bitchin and I walked away. Later he said, "well I do like to shop here and maybe I can find something else that would work.
So maybe during this holiday season when you are out shopping, remember that all of us put our pants on one leg at a time. We are all the same. And if you don't like the service or can't find the products then don't spend you money at that store. And also, try not to be an a**ho**. We have plenty of them in the world already!

Well...I didn't read the "News" today, oh boy

I read the newspaper for the second Saturday in a row but I still didn't see my much heralded column (heralded at least by me) that was to appear. Well, so much for the greatest comeback in journalistic history!
I got bumped again by all of the pictures of Johnny and Janey and dogs and cats and Church news and whatever. Ironically, it reminds me of the days when I was an editor and would have to answer calls from my reporters and stringers wondering "what happened to my story?"
Back in the old Linotype days when reporters wore Fedoras (for you under 30, these were Tom Landry hats) with Press Cards sticking out of the hat band, I would have inches and inches of hot breaking news, feature stories, mounds of pictures, announcements and of course ads all of which had to be squeezed into so much space. We lived by the rule of thumb of 55% news, 45% ads. As you can tell by looking at your local newspaper today, this ad ratio no longer exists.
As I was trying to make my deadline of getting the newspaper "put to bed", I would find myself snipping copy, cropping photos and rearranging stories to try and make everything fit. It was the proverbial putting 10 lbs. of s*** in a 5 lb bag. It doesn't fit. And, I got calls about it when so-and-so's mother didn't see the story about Susie that the reporter said would be in the next edition. Even worse was when I would have a picture of 4 people and the person on the end got sliced off before final publication.
I can remember one incident when a person had sworn to his wife that he had been at an event and he would have the evidence to show her when the photo came out in the newspaper. Unfortunately, he was the one on the end and got left off. He called and begged me to contact his wife and tell her he was really in the picture.
It was a lonely job as an editor. Nobody was ever happy. There were reporters who felt like they had the exact number of perfect words for their stories. Stringers, people who were only paid for the number of inches that appeared in the newspaper, were short changed and their only income was reduced. And readers who were expecting their 15 minutes of fame were all angry and disappointed. Alas, I guess what goes around, comes around and I now suffer the same anxiety.
But you know what?. I still have my blog.
I can write and write to no end. I don't have ads that have to be worked around. I can use all of the pictures I want. And, I don't have to answer to ANYONE. I can even say......If you don't like it.....Don't read it!....without any fear of losing revenue.
I can write and edit when I want to. I can even cuss and rant about anything I choose.
"Newspapers? We don't need no stinking newspapers" (restructured quote from Treasure of Sierra Madres ). I can misspell wurds. I can use poor grammar. I can even use the word ain't if I want to. I can even end the sentence in a preposition sort of.
So there. Thanks to the world of blogs, I have everything I want. I'm happy. You're happy and all's right with the world.
Hell, I might even decide to start wearing a Fedora again!!

"Well.......It's either too much or not enough"

Update - Richardson, TX.

For all of my faithful following I thought I would bring you up-to-date on the comings and goings around here.
Pattye continues to build Gathering Eggs both at the store and on-line with EBay. We have gotten to know the UPS delivery person quite well and as soon as I hear the slow rumbling of the engine as he/she pulls up to the front of the house I am at the door waiting to receive our valuable inventory for the day. On the other side of the balance sheet Pattye makes daily deliveries to the Post Office with packages destined for as far away as France and England and of course the U.S.. She really is enjoying her new career and I am really enjoying watching her and helping in her new career.
My new endeavors have gotten off to a great start as well.
I have been asked to write a guest column for the Richardson section of the Dallas Morning News. Apparently the editor likes my style and would like to use my musings, with some localization, for the weekly publication. The first installment will appear in Nov. 12th's edition. It's not much but it's a start and am happy to get back into the business. Yes, I realize in the past I have waged some criticism of the newspaper; however, it was never with the editorial side, only some of the circulation woes that were happening.
And with that, I also have gotten what my kids always used to call "a real job". I have been hired as a Department Supervisor of a nationally known chain of home improvement stores that feature bright orange colors.
Plus, it looks like I will be able to keep my customers with my swimming pool business, Blue Sky Pool Service, as well.
Hey, there's 24 hours in a day, and if you know me, I wouldn't have it any other way. Besides, I still get up about 1:30 AM and you can get a lot done at that time in the morning.
So all is well here. I'm no longer under foot at home and I am getting a chance to write again.
So, I guess if I have to choose either too much or not enough......I'll go with the too much. It's a whole lot more fun.

"It's not about the Turkey"

Want to cause just a little more anxiety than usual this Thanksgiving? Well here's a recipe (no pun intended) for success. Suggest to the one who slaves over the stove for two days prior to the big event that " let's have something different for dinner this year, how about a duck or a goose or maybe even a couple of those stuffed quail that you can find at a specialty store". Or if you haven't received that "glare" yet, try this........"I think I am going to deep-fry the turkey this year".Hey, there is nothing better than roast turkey and dressing, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, cranberry sauce, green beans....etc. I love my turkey, especially the next day, the next night, the day after that and maybe even a third day. But it's not about the turkey that makes Thanksgiving a tradition. It's the meal itself and the people gathered at the table to enjoy the year's bounty.

Being the traditionalist that I am, I know the meaning of Thanksgiving. It's one of the few days in the year that we actually take a little break and give thanks for everything we have. But unfortunately it is also commemorates the day before the big sales at all of the department stores. It's the day we get to watch the Cowboys play on a Thursday. It's the day that we bring out the good china, the day all of the grandkids come over and get their sticky little hands all over the coffee table and bang on the piano endlessly.

One of the best Thanksgivings I ever experienced was when the "Williams" clan, my wife's side of the family, decided to spend the Thanksgiving weekend camping in East Texas. Although late November can sometimes be quite chilly, we decided we would break from tradition and celebrate, kind of like the Pilgrims did, although they really didn't have Coleman stoves and down-filled sleeping bags ....but you get the picture.

So here we were nestled in Tyler State Park on Wednesday night reliving memories of past get-togethers, our pre-cooked casseroles packed away in the coolers waiting to be thawed and served with the turkey that we would cook over an open fire the next day. Well, either someone forgot to check the forecast or good ole' Texas weather decided to play one of it's tricks and a classic thunderstorm soaked our tents, sleeping bags and anything that was supposed to be dry was wet.

The next day it took forever to find any dry wood to start a campfire that was going to be the source for our oven. But with the resourcefulness of what we had learned from our forefathers, the brave souls who founded this country, we were able to build a fire, get a good bed of coals and roast several turkeys and cook foil-wrapped potatoes and corn .

We gave thanks for survival in the "wilderness", we filled our bodies with our bounties and we told stories of how we survived the night's downpour. We hiked through the woods, we taught our kids how to appreciate nature and maybe for a few hours experienced what Thanksgiving is all about.

I guess we missed any of the big sales and probably the Cowboys game. But you know what? It was alright. We had our turkey, we had our family and we had leftover turkey sandwiches. But most important we had a memory. One that we would share and laugh about for many years later.

"For Whom the Bell Tolls"

A expression from a sermon by John Donne in the 1600's and later used by Ernest Hemingway as the title of his novel about the Spanish Civil War "For Whom the Bell Tolls" says that because we are all part of mankind, any person's death is a loss to all of us.
Fast forward to modern times and allow me to metamorphize a person's death to the loss of what we once called Customer Service.
Gone are the days of actually talking with a "real person" to help solve our problems. Now upon calling Customer Service we are bombarded with a series of menus before we can begin pleading for help.
Which reminds me, why are you asked at the beginning of the onslaught "would you like to hear the menu in Spanish, if in fact you only spoke Spanish, how would you know what they are asking ".
Anyway, I am not telling you anything you haven't experienced yourselves and have complained about for some time.
My question though is, "Why do we put up with it? Why do we allow the people that we pay our money to for newspapers, internet connections, cable, gasoline, water, electricity, gas.....need I go on.......... why do we allow ourselves to be subjected to, at the best a person in India with some totally nondiscernible accent to the worst, a non-person whose robotic system usually gets us only back to square one.
Well, I've had it.
The next time I can't get a problem resolved with a real person, right away, then by gum, I'll just .............wait......I can't complain about that because I don't have anyone to complain to.
Oh yeah......I'll send an e-mail.........no........that won't work because all I will get will be a robot e-mail response saying "Thank you for your e-mail, please don't respond to this response to your response. We will respond at a later time".
So, what do we do?
I guess we accept the death of Customer Service as inevitable, just like our ultimate death.
As my childhood friend, Pogo, always used to say, "We have met the enemy and he is us".
Am I giving in? Well, I guess maybe I am.
I hate it...... the non-response. What's more I hate the fact that I have allowed it to happen.
Some time ago I wrote a blog about Where did we go wrong and said that "Today, I make a change". Well, here I go again, today I make a change...........if only I could speak to a real person!!

"The Meaning of Family......and Traditions"

Each October I have the privilege to attend the Williams Family Reunion. I call it a privilege although after nearly 19 years of marriage I have probably earned the right to attend, well, at least while I am with Pattye. But it really is a privilege and an honor to spend a weekend each year with various generations of the Williams clan as they gather in New Braunfels for a chance to hear about the previous year's events and sadly reflect on the ones who have passed away.
The 1st cousins, as they are known, are the current oldest living generation of a family of 9 children whose roots in Texas started in the small town of Frost.

The 1st cousins include Pattye's father, F. Clark Williams, a prominent Presbyterian minister, who is one of the sons of the Eugene branch. The "Williams", although some of their last names now changed by marriage, come from as far as Italy, Hawaii, and England and all over Texas to join together. But it's not just of "bunch of old people" as some might think. True, some are hobbled by canes and might walk at a slower pace, but they find new strength in their bodies as each year brings new faces and new generations

I've never felt more welcomed than when I show up with Pattye and we begin to circulate among the different "familys", the 9 branches of the Williams tree. Each person wanting to know the news of the past year, asking about our kids, wanting to see pictures and sharing memories.

Friday night is usually left open and groups journey into the historical town of Gruene for a great steak or seafood dinner or for those who travel from overseas for a good Mexican food "fix". The night in Gruene is then capped off with standing outside of the famous Gruene Dance Hall listening to top artists in Country Music singing to the packed crowd.

A banquet on Saturday brings all of the familys together with many more faces showing up that make it a day trip. A prayer is given as the ones that are no longer there physically, are remembered in spirit.

Photo albums are brought out and laughter erupts as everyone is surprised how they have aged over the years. Yet, they have aged gracefully. Group photos are taken to be shown at the next reunion, stories are told and memories are once again brought to mind.


This year we were even graced with a popular dance band, the Royalaires, led by the husband of this year's hosting chairwoman.

Little girls twirled together with their moms and dads and grandparents on the dance floor, Pattye and I showed some "moves" we hadn't tried in years and yes, many of the 1st cousins danced once again and remembered the times they had in years past.

So maybe it sounds like just a family get-together, with just saying hi, eating food and looking at some pictures.

Trust me, it's much more than that. It's the spirit of some brave pioneers who over a hundred years ago in search of a new life settled on a place in the middle of Texas and started a fine family, created traditions and made Texans what they are today. I am now a part of that tradition, that family and one I am proud of and eager to see every year.

"Yikes............We're on Fire"

Not that I yelled the word......"yikes", but we were on fire.
We had been home for only a couple of hours after returning from "The Williams Family Reunion" down in New Braunfels, TX. Bags had been unpacked. Mail had been read. E-mail had been read (all 67 pieces for 2 days, 65 of them spam). All set to watch the Cowboy game. Pattye had built a nice fire (that's her job because she likes to do it) seeing that the temperature had dropped almost 40 degrees from when we had left the Hill Country.
After about three hours all of a sudden the fireplace started to roar, and I mean ROAR, and we started hearing and seeing things fall down into the fire.
Our first thought was there may have been a bird's nest that had caught on fire in the chimney and was adding fuel, but since the fire had been burning for several hours, I had doubted that.
As I was getting ready to get on the roof and see what was happening, the doorbell rang and someone who had been driving down the street noticed that a lot of ash and sparks were spewing from the chimney.
As I got on the roof, which is about 30 feet at its peak, I noticed several cars pulled over to the side of the road and looking at the embers coming out.
About that time I heard the fire trucks blaring their alarms. Fortunately for us the fire station is only a couple of blocks away. Apparently a passer-by must have thought the house was on fire and alerted the fire department to the problem.
By the time they got the 3 hook and ladders into our cul-de-sac, along with 2 police squad cars, the fire in the fireplace had died down.
One fireman went onto the roof and examined the chimney, checked the roof and declared everything was safe. Another came into the house and checked for any heat along the walls and he also gave a thumbs-up sign.
After some discussion, it was determined that some soot build-up over the years in the chimney had caught on fire adding more fuel to the fire as it dropped down and then throwing embers through the top of the chimney.
They and we were satisfied everything was safe and after about 1/2 hour they were gone and we enjoyed the remnants of the fire that by then had slowed to just the burning embers from our adventurous afternoon.
So all ended well. One fireman suggested we have the chimney cleaned every couple of years; however, he said we wouldn't need it now because it cleaned itself with the roaring fire.
It was a little harrowing and reminded me of when our house burned down when I was a senior in highschool, but that story is for a future blog.
Next on the blog will be a story about the family reunion and why family is so important........
Oh yeah, the Cowboys lost...in a horrible finish!!

UPDATE: Pattye told me it was actually 2 hook and ladders and one ambulance. Also, I didn't get a chance to thank the Richardson Fire Department for their excellent response as well as the concerned citizen who called in the alarm. Thanks everyone.

"Our State Fair......Is a Great State Fair"

It's been over 40 years since Pat Boone and Ann-Margaret appeared on screen in the musical State Fair filmed at Fair Park in Dallas. Some things change, some things remain the same....

We ventured to the State Fair this week and I'm happy to report for the most part, the world's largest fair, despite what the people in Ohio say, gets a A- rating this year.
Naturally, we had the obligatory Fletcher's Corn Dog and a giant sausage-on-a-stick, which I swear each year I'll never eat again, plus ice-less root beers and too-much-ice Cokes.

The day started with a gymnastic performance by a group of young Chinese Acrobats, who although seemed bored, put on a great exhibition of flexibility and strength. I'm assuming these kids are visiting from overseas and aren't locals. If so, I think China's chances at the next Olympics look pretty good.

We had a chance to see Boris, a 1,100 lb. pig or boar, whatever he's called, who lie in his stall and slept while kids prodded him and marveled at the texture of his coarse hair. Boris made me feel a little better about the weight I have been carrying these days!

Walking cautiously through the cattle barn (I wasn't too cautious though as Pattye pointed out what was on the bottom of my shoe) we saw the bulls and cows that the 4-Hr's so painstakingly take the time to groom and regroom as they wait their turn in the arenas. Caught the milking demonstration, well sort of, we waited for the cow to be milked but got impatient as the narrator explained about how many lbs. of hay equals how many gallons of milk.

We wandered over to the Arts and Crafts exhibition which featured a butter sculpture of Elvis (readers can post their own jokes) and the many, many entries ranging in categories from Preserves, Quilting, Collectibles, Antiques, Dolls and Paintings, you name it they were there. Each with its own blue red, yellow or white ribbon. I guess everybody wins something.

The midway as usual was filled with the "carney rats" who try to intimidate you with their barking proclaiming "a winner everytime". I can remember when as a teenager, I would vow to practice lifting that Coke bottle up with a cane pole with a ring attached at the end so when the fair came around each year I could con the con. We laughed as the carney showed us how easy it was done as the bottle fell to the ground.

The highlight of this year's fair and one that really should be witnessed was the "American Music" display in the Hall of State building. Memorabilia from Elvis, The Beatles and Bob Dylan were on display bringing back some memories of the 60's and causing me to hum " A Hard Day's Night" for awhile. An excellent added attraction was by a group of superbly talented actors and solo guitarist who give you a glimpse into the life of "Blind Lemon" Jefferson.
"Blind Lemon" was one of the most popular blues artists in the 1920's. He inspired a generation of blues artists with his unique guitar style and his high clear voice. Later this year the entire production will be performed and I think we might just add it to our busy calendar.

We decided to pass on the New Car Show this year seeing that we just added two new Fords to our household and there was no need to dream of adding an 06' model.

We finished the day with a walk through the unbelievable rides area paying particular attention to the looks on some of the kid's faces as they screamed with fear as their bodies turned upside down, inside out, over and over and over. It's amazing that people pay money to "enjoy" such torture. I did pass on a chance to see all of Dallas from the top of the giant, and I mean giant, Ferris Wheel with the person who promised to love, honor and hold my hand on scary rides. Although I usually am not very squeamish about such things, the Ferris Wheel, for some reason does give me rubber legs.

So there it is............A quick look at the "Great State Fair of Texas" with all of the gastronomy, agronomy, funonomy and dichotomy that one could ask for in just a single day.

So in the words of Rodgers and Hammerstein "Don't miss it, don't even be late..."

"Pardon me, .......Is my slip showing?"

It's interesting what you learn about yourself when you start doing the things that you want to do rather than what you have to do.
During this transition time as Pattye and I develop our new niche (which by the way is moving along very well........which I'll describe in a later blog), I have been experiencing more and more of life's happenings that exist around me. Nothing major, but just the little nuances that I have overlooked for so long.
We have been spending much of our time going to Trade Days and Craft Shows. The trade days, at least in Texas, are venues for hawkers, collectors, hobbyists, occasional "white trash" and just about anybody that has something to sell, barter or even buy. I've seen everything from goats, roosters, hand-made swings made out of old tires to Fenton glassware, hand-painted light switches, funnel cakes and sausage-on-a-stick (my favorite).
Actually, the Trade Days will probably be a source for revenue on a monthly basis for some of my wood crafts.
But it is the Craft Shows that has left an impression on me.
Recently we had the opportunity to go to the Cottonwood Creek Arts Festival in Richardson. Although I have been there several times before, I never took the time to actually "look at" and really admire the beautiful pieces of art on display.
This show has become nationally known and as many as 800 artists apply annually with only 250 being selected to show and sell their work.
I guess I realized how few talents, or actually no talent, I had after seeing so many creative and detailed pieces. It's then my "softer" side began to take over. I began to marvel at the talent that these artisans have been given. I'm jealous.
I wish I hadn't slept during Art class. Come to think of it, I didn't even take Art class. I did however take Machine Shop and Drafting.
Anyway, I now find myself taking the time to look at Art, Pottery, Ceramics, Glass creations, many things that I often would pass by as I was looking for the closest Turkey Leg, or Sausage-on-a-Stick vendor.
I have even now began watching the Antique Roadshow on television.
Is it too late for me? I don't know.
Grandma Moses didn't start painting until she was well past my age.
My dad started painting in his 70's after suffering a stroke as part of his rehab.
Why is it that some of us have to spend our lives not taking the time to appreciate the niceties in life. We find a socket wrench is more manly than a paint brush or a potter's wheel.
Hey, I am doing want I want to do and if it means part of my feminine side or "girlie" side might be starting to come out,.... so what.
Just please let me know if my slip is showing.

"I'm back..... in Mind, Body and Soul"

I have so much to say upon my return to the great north Texas area that at the risk of losing anyone with 1000's of words in one blog, I'll break everything down into a couple of shorter mini-blogs if you will.

In reverse chronological order

We blew in with a little help from Rita on Thursday afternoon after spending the night in Salado, Texas, a shopper's paradise, just north of Austin. We had been following the hurricane reports throughout our combination vacation/buying trip and I decided when I awoke at our unchanged wakeup time of 4:00 am that it might be a good idea to fill the car up with gasoline. There was a station near the StageCoach Inn where we spent the night and already a line was forming at the pumps. I paid $2.69 a gallon which had been pretty much the norm for the entire week. It wasn't so much the surprise of seeing the number of people at the pumps that caught my attention, it was the number of cars on the highway at that time. Interstate 35, which is the highway we were on, runs north from San Antonio to Dallas. It runs somewhat parallel to Interstate 45 which comes out of Houston with both roads converging in Dallas. I figured it was going to be a long time getting home and Pattye and I decided after a couple of hours of shopping we had better start making our way on the last leg of our journey. Sure enough, as soon as we got north of Waco, the traffic became bumper to bumper and we began scouring the map for an alternate direction. After stopping in Hillsboro for a short nature break, (Pattye informed me that there was a long line to the ladies room at the local McDonald's), I saw cars stacked at the adjacent Super Eight motel loaded with what appeared to be hastily packed belongings and people literally cooking in the parking lot. I met a family from Houston who had evacuated their home and were heading for Plano and gave them an alternate direction to avoid the traffic mess that was soon to get worse. After making some adjustments and heading west to ultimately get north we finally made it to our abode to find it still there albeit with a lawn in desperate need of watering and mowing. Trip distance 991 miles.

San Antonio.......and the beautiful River Walk

If you haven't been, I recommend everyone spend some time in San Antonio. As a matter of fact, I suggest you visit San Antonio before you visit Dallas. As much as I love North Texas, I could easily move to San Antonio. Just recently, San Antonio moved ahead of Dallas as the eighth largest city in the U.S. moving Dallas to number nine. San Antonio has so much to offer and yet it doesn't seem like a huge metropolis. The beautiful River Walk which winds through the downtown area has all of the ambiance one could ask for to enjoy sightseeing, good food and lots of entertainment. We spent 3 days at the Westin Hotel located on a more quiet branch of the river but only a few minutes of walking to the endless numbers of restaurants, jazz bands, curio shops and the ever present Mariachi Bands. One evening while having dinner we were serenaded by a duo, a trumpeter and guitar player, who accommodated us with the only request we could think of at the time, "Gauntanamera". Naturally we sang along although substituting our own words at certain points.

El Mercado....."A Taste of Mexico"

As the name implies, El Mercado, "The Market", was one of our destinations on our 7-day trek of finding one of a kind items for Gathering Eggs. This several block area west of San Antonio is filled with hundreds of shops with thousand of hand-made, hand-painted, hand-tooled, crafts from Mexico. The smell of leather wafts through the winding aisles while pinatas hang from the rafters of many of the brightly painted stores. Pattye sought out a particular location where she had bought several items in the past. The brilliantly glazed Majolica earthenware and the

beautiful Talavera ceramics quickly filled my arms as I made an extra trip back to the car with loads of inventory for eventual sale in Dallas.

Much, much, more.........

I have realized that I have written much more than I had intended and could go on endlessly and I have decided to save the rest for a later time. There is nothing worse than hearing about someone else's vacation and having to sit through a slide show for what seems like an eternity. So, in closing for now, I just want to say we had a great time, we bought a lot of "stuff", and we are looking forward to getting back in sync with working and enjoying our new careers, which reminds me, I have an interview with UPS in the morning. For those of you who have made it this far in my blog, I hope I haven't bored you. And, be sure to tune in next time to hear about the incredible amount of great items we saw in Fredericksburg, Blanco, Marble Falls and Gruene. So long for now!!

Adios amigos

NOS irán por una semana en vacaciones al país de la colina. Seremos que relajan y que van a las ferias comerciales en Fredericksburg, Blanco y Gruene. También permaneceremos en la caminata del río en San Antonio y haremos pocas compras. Tendremos muchas historias para decir cuándo conseguimos detrás y esperamos compartirlas con usted. Vaya a hacer compras en la acopio de los huevos y ayude por favor a pagar nuestro viaje. Vaya con dios!

If you would like to translate this you might try using This site for translation , but when I tanslated it back to English after writing it in in English and then translating it to Spanish and then back to English it didn't come out very well. Maybe that is why I took German in highschool!

Anyway, see you in a week!

"That and a $1.50 will get you a cup of coffee"...I beg to differ

With my days of new found freedom waning as I prepare to look at Plan B for a source of income while Pattye and I develop Gathering Eggs , I have been working on a resume of my years of collective knowledge and experience. I find I am somewhere between a hard-working, team player, traditionalist whose life's work is centered around problem solving to a dreamer, an idealist, a visionary in search of Utopia.
My list of varied occupations is partly due to a long time on this earth and my desire to experience new ideas, new ventures, new pursuits. Although most of the more satisfying enterprises have revolved around the journalism arena, the more productive choices in term of dollars involved satisfying people's needs either in sales or service.
But how much is experience worth these day? Can you really put value on experience? I think you can. I know you can.
One of the most unfortunate examples of lack of experience has been happening with recent inactions and blunderings of numerous officials during the Kristina disaster.
I keep seeing time and time again so-called leaders asking "where is the help". Mayors, governors, the people in charge, each going to a higher authority asking for someone to do something.
Who have been the "do-ers" in all of this mess? Who have been the ones who have made decisions, gone into battle, saved lives. Not the diplomats, not the bean-counter MBAers with the pumped up resumes. It has been the people who have served in the trenches. The ones who have gotten their hands dirty. The ones who have been faced with a problem and made a decision and acted on it.
Heroes are just every day people who have decided that they will jump in an get the job done. Why? Because sometime in their life they were faced with decision making and they acted. They experienced a choice and they made a decision. It probably wasn't life threatening, but it was a decision that had to be made.
Mommy and Daddy wasn't there to make the choices for them. They did it on their own and they tagged it for future use. They created a place in their brain and labeled it EXPERIENCE.

So what is experience worth? I think it is priceless.
Give me someone who has life experiences. Give me someone who can make a decision and think for themselves. Give me someone who doesn't have to ask "Daddy" to bail him out.
I'm proud of the lifetime of varied careers that I can put on my resume. I have learned so much and I can offer this knowledge to the people who want results.
Experience is enlightenment. Experience is skill. Experience is a resume of your life's achievements.
That being said, let's see how well it plays in the market place!

"Labor Day, and the 'Millennial' Generation"

On a day that we celebrate the American worker, it is fitting that we review how the work force has evolved into a new generation filled with new ideas and ethics versus old standards and regulations.
Without being too much of a curmudgeon, I offer the following observations:

• Regardless of what generation you are labeled, baby-boomer, x-generation, y-generation, or echo generation, you feel that nobody does/did it better than you.
• Hard work (Labor) = Success.
• Success is not measured by the size of your house, the length of your boat or the emblem on your car.
• Anyone can be a success in America.

In you watched 40 Minutes a couple of weeks ago (60 - commercials = 40) one of the segments reported on was the Millennial generation.

The Millennial children born to the baby-boomers, is the new driving force in America. Their values are in many instances completely opposite than mine and yet in many cases their values are very much the same.
One area that I relate to this younger generation is their use and reliance on the Internet.
I spend as many as 3-4 hours a day on the Internet, which is about half of what the Millennials spend from getting the latest news reports to writing/reading E-mail and now making an income. But if the Internet were to crash today, I would know how to not only survive, but live successfully without it. This is where we differ.
The Millenials do not know of any way other than e-mail, text messaging, camera phones or blogging to communicate. It's not their fault, it just all they have known. E-mail is now considered "snail mail", or what I used to refer to as the U.S. Postal Service. They have to have instant communication.
Writing letters isn't one of their tools of the trade. Complete, thought- out sentences are replaced with truncated wrds tht tak mr tm to decfr than it wld hv tkn to spl thm ot.
Communicating is not simply writing a statement, waiting for the reply and then replying to the reply often having to explain the first statement. Communicating is speaking/writing and reading/listening at the same time. It is not just a one-sided conversation.
Even in news gathering, it is important that one does more than simply peruse the headlines from all of the on-lines news agencies, but take the time to get more in-depth reports via newspapers, periodicals, television and most important other people's opinions.
The Internet can give you the instant news, but you have to be able to massage and interpret the message and discuss the information in order to understand what was below the surface.
And don't take the Internet as gospel. Anyone can post a white paper that can easily be picked up as the first search result in Google, and the information can be full of misinformation. When I hear, "Well, I read it on the Internet", a red flag is hoisted immediately unless I hear of another source to go along with the proclamation.
I have a lot of respect for the new generation and their willingness to be team players, their tolerance of their fellow man and their quest for success.
Their need for instant gratification however, does leave me a little worried.
I am still a believer that success comes also with hard work, sweat, and labor.
Labor has to be part of the recipe for success, and it can't be instant.
Thus that is why we celebrate Labor Day and the true meaning behind it.

"The Journey Begins......Day 1"

In staying with my new format, here is a song that should get your blood pumping as you read along. Click here for Music


Well, I did pretty good. I slept in until about 4:30 a.m., well kind of. I did wake up at 12:00 midnight, my normal time for the last umpteen years, but I rolled over and went back to sleep until about 2:00 a.m. and then got some coffee and then went back to sleep for a couple of more hours. It felt good. It felt real good, except I am definitely going to have to retrain by bladder, it's not used to such extended neglect.
You know, early morning is really the best time of day. There are just no interruptions. No phones ringing, no clogged cable connections, no sounds other than the occasional mockingbird (my arch enemy : see Mockingbird).
I dashed off a ton of e-mail to friends who have responded to our new journey. Completed a couple of surveys that have been gathering dust on my desk. Backed-up my hard drive. Deleted hundreds of old e-mails, well, deleted them from the deleted file. (I know that is a redundant system, but why do I have to reread the deleted items again after I deleted them the first time). Got my calendar/planner organized. Organized my CDs. Worked on my new blog format. Wrote a blog. Read on-line news. And then, it was only 6:00 a.m. Hmmmm, looks like this new found freedom is going to need a little adjustment.
We did have a chance to enjoy the sunrise though without a "beeper" going off telling us that someone didn't get their friggin crossword puzzle in their newspaper.
A couple of years ago we put in a water garden and I have never really taken the time to enjoy the truly relaxing setting but yesterday was different. I think I really relaxed.
The next couple of hours were spent makings lists of lists. You know you have your lists, but then you have to list those lists in order to get them in the correct priority.
Numero uno on the list is to get Pattye setup for full-time Gathering Eggs. We have dedicated 1/2 of the garage for her workshop. This meant going to my favorite store in the whole world, Home Depot, and buying supplies to make room for her.
Started cleaning out several boxes of "stuff" and found something that brought tears to my eyes. No, it wasn't my Honorable Discharge from the Air Force, or pictures that my kids had drawn for me. It was some old credit card receipts from 1978. One was for gasoline that showed that I had purchased 14.0 gallons for $8.40. If my math is correct that is $.60 a gallon. Whoa!!
This morning (at 3:00 a.m. I might add) I filled up for $2.95 a gallon and across the street it was $3.09 a gallon. Folks, it is going to get worse.
Well, the garage/workshop still needs a couple of more hours of work to get it finished and then I will move on to the next item on the list, which is, huh?, I already forgot.
After all that during Day 1, we still went to bed around 7:00 p.m. I guess this new time adjustment is going to take a little longer than I thought.

"I cried last night"

I cried again last night for the poor souls who are suffering on the Gulf Coast. I cried and I prayed. God help them, God help us all.

I'm energized, rejuvenated, and just feeling happy"

O.K. Kids. Time to start playing again. And one thing that I am doing for all of you is now playing some great music for you as you read my blog. Hopefully, each blog will come with a new tune.
At the present time I don't have the storage capacity to keep the tunes when they are moved into the archive section, but I am working on that also.

If you have Real Player installed click here , Real Player will start streaming the audio onto your computer within seconds.

If you have Windows Media Player installed click here, and the audio will start streaming as well.
If necessary, minimize the windows and then continue reading the blog. I mean that's the reason you came here in the first place. Oh yeah, don't forget to turn up your speakers. Geez, do I have to tell you everything!
And, if you can't do any of that then just hum while you read my blog.
So anyway, here's one of my favorites artists, Willie Nelson, as he sings an appropriate song as we finish up our countdown and "get on the road again.
One quick note.
I want to say thanks to everyone who has stuck with us over the last couple of months while we have been going through some difficult times.
We really appreciate your friendship.
Now on with the show!!

New Format

My blog is currently being redesigned. If you would follow the new link , you can get to my new design that I am updating. Thanks

"The Road Not Taken"

"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;"........

Robert Frost's The Road Not Taken gives me a sense of serenity in knowing that often times in my life I have chosen the less traveled path and have been a better person for making that choice. It wasn't always the route that came without pitfalls and caused me to stumble, but it was a lane that brought me in touch with people that have shaped my life.
Every day we have choices that we must make. We choose to either take the pathway that is filled with road signs directing us to our final destination, or we choose to struggle and find our own way sometimes falling down in the process.

But, after we make our choice of a less familiar way, we find that what appeared to be a difficult decision was in fact quite easy after all. My footsteps were not on a primrose path but they weren't difficult either. When I lost my balance I seemed to always have a friend who would lend me support or would find the strength to right myself from within.
I wouldn't have it any other way. The stories I share here are only remembrances of those times and faces of the many people I met along the way.
The thrill of discovering something new each day gives me the incentive to journey where most people haven't trod. My list is long to unearth new treasures and add to the bounty that I now possess. My only obstacle is time.
Will the hourglass be empty before my coffers are full?

...."I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference."

As long as I continue to learn and experience life and choose the road not taken, I will die a man with more than his share.

"What makes us who we are"

Pattye said to me the other day, "Tom, you really know how to entertain yourself".
It was in response to either something I said or wrote in a blog although I can't even remember what it was about but I guess I was feeling pretty good about it and was laughing to myself.
That's not unusual.....me laughing to myself, or singing out loud or whistling.
My wandering mind is usually somewhere other than where it is supposed to be at any given moment. Is this what is now termed Adult Attention Deficit Disorder (AADD)?
I don't know and really don't care. I have fun with myself and am usually my own best friend.
How did I get this way? Did it start early in life?
Has it evolved from simple growth and maturity and my becoming at peace within ? No, that's not it, because I have been acting this way since I was a little kid.
What is it then?
What makes me laugh and what makes me able to make others laugh?
I guess deep down I'm just a happy kind of guy.
Oh, I get pissed off enough, people around me can attest to that. But, after I vent I am able to just find something new and begin again.
A good friend, Ben Campbell, was the manager of the Jewish Community Center in Dayton, where I worked for several summers during my years in college.
He had the answer to all of life's problems.

"Illegitimis non carborundum" which loosely translated means "Don't let the bastards grind you down".
It is kind of my motto.
Assholes are always going to be assholes. You can't change them. Most of the time you have to live with them. But, you don't have to let them make your life miserable.
You and I both know there are some people who spend their entire life wishing they were somebody else. They are so caught up with their misery that they hate their life. They feel doomed to the life of Sisyphus , a mythological character doomed to rolling a rock up a hill only to have it roll back over him. That poor soul.
I could have solved his dilemma. Either quit pushing the damn rock or get the hell out of the way when it comes back down. Pretty easy huh?
Get rid of your burdens. Find something you enjoy doing and if it doesn't work out, then let it fall to the wayside and find something new.
And most important. Laugh. Laugh all of the time. And sing and whistle. And if you can't do that then hell, just hum. It's good for the soul.

"Geez, I Don't Know.................."

Someone asked me the other day how my time will be spent in the near future as a new chapter begins with Pattye and my career changes. Well, I did my classic, safe, non-committal answer. Hhhhhhmmm. I don't know.
I guess people have thought of me as somewhat of a planner. A well organized, set out your clothes for tomorrow, put the coffee on automatic brew kind of guy.
Well, that is me, but I don't do more than a day, well, maybe 1/2 day, or at least couple of hours in advance. That's still planning isn't it? Well, I have good intentions.
My late, inspiration-filled, knew- me -better than anyone, mother always had an expression for that kind of behavior. "The road to hell (but she would never use that word) is filled with good intentions."
I have a whole laundry list, that's not a cliche because laundry is on there as well, of things that I need to do, but somewhere between midnight when I get up and oh, lets say 8:00 AM, I get a little sidetracked.
I start off focused. My intentions are sound. I even have a planner/calendar on my desktop with whistles and bells to remind me to do things. Hhhhmmm, I just checked it and it said that I haven't put anything on there in about six months and I don't have any thing planned at all for the future.
See, right there. I got sidetracked. I was talking about being focused and what did I do? I had to go check my calendar.
Okay, where was I? Oh yeah, planning.
As I was saying, I start off focused and the next thing I know I am off on another project.
Once again, planning.
First thing I know that we are going to do is take a well deserved vacation. Probably back down to the Hill Country. It's our favorite place with wide open spaces, occasionally dotted with twisted, sprawling mesquite bushes, low growing cedars, and hundreds of deer. Several rivers flow through the area with a deep blue crystal clear water that you can easily spot several different types of fish, some of which must be 15 to 20 pounds.
We plan on making this a working vacation as well.
You didn't think we would actually just rest the whole time did you?
When I say working though it will be fun work, and I don't consider that an oxymoron. Work is fun for us.
We'll be spending time buying inventory at many of the small town trade fairs in order to replenish our stock for Gathering Eggs , which is where Pattye will be hanging her hat for the remainder of her working years.
Any other plans for me are too numerous to think of at this time. I get tired-head just trying to think of what I have to do.
One thing I know for sure. My plans will be to continue to post to this blog. Work on my novel. And, read. There that's planning. As a matter of fact I think that is some pretty good planning. I think I'll just put that on my calendar right now.
Blog, write and read. My god, I have just become organized!!

Writing is like making love to a woman

How many times have you sent an e-mail and wish you could have a do-over? How about sending an e-mail when you wanted to "Forward" it and instead hit the"Reply"button.
Has e-mail replaced letter writing? I think it has. And it has eroded our minds to a point that we do not think about what we are saying. And now, instant messaging has magnified the problem.
What has happened to letter writing?
Writing letters can convey passion.
Writing letters can be intimate
Writing letters rarely leaves the recipient confused about the intention of the message.
Are writing blogs the same as writing letters?
I believe they are, unless you become in such a hurry to see your "masterpiece" posted for all of the world to see that you don't take the time to understand how your work will be interpreted.
Don't fool yourself.
Writing is an art. It takes passion. It's like making love to a woman.
It's not wham, bam thank you maam.
I'm learning to write. I'm learning to make love out of words.
I'm only at my first kiss and I am fumbling trying to become a lover.
I use the wrong words. I say the wrong things at the wrong time. But I am learning.
Writing and love-making, one in the same.
And with writing you can even smoke during the act instead of waiting until you are finished.

"You Can't Go Home Again....Or Can You?

I started reading Thomas Wolfe's "You can't go home again" this week. Although his reasons for not being able to return home are much different than mine the problem still exists, that is, I don't know if I can go home.
I left Dayton, Ohio before I had reached my 18th birthday and headed for Norman, Oklahoma to begin my matriculation at the University of Oklahoma. Nearly 1000 miles away from where I had spent all my childhood, it didn't seem like any major journey to me at the time.
I piled everything I owned into my cramped Triumph SpitFire and through my rear view mirror took my last look at a place that I would no longer call home.
Was it just my free spirit wanting to break loose from the tethers that I felt were holding me back? Were there relationships that I felt I must escape and only a swift and permanent departure would be my only salvation? I didn't know and I didn't care. I was history. Gone Adios.
I did return for the next two summers to spend a month or two to earn some money to help pay my tuition for the following school years, but even then my bags stayed packed, my days were spent working and my nights were spent drinking.
After that, the visits came only every 3 or 4 years and lasted for 2 days at the most.
There hasn't been a Christmas spent in Dayton in almost 40 years. I have attended only one highschool reunion in those same 40 years. I still have two brothers that live there and I stay in contact with them, but I have only one or two friends left there and I probably wouldn't recognize them if I sat down beside them.
What is it that defines home as home? Your birthplace? Where you spent your childhood? Where you presently receive your mail?
I have friends today in Dallas who have never lived anywhere further away than a few miles from where they were born. Some have even moved back into their childhood homes. I'm sure the same is true for some of the people I grew up with in Dayton.
Whenever I have the chance I ask about places that I remember as a child. Although there seems to be a fog that obliterates a portion of those years, some of the memories are vivid.
I can still recall popular hangouts and if I close my eyes can even taste the hamburgers at the Goodey Goodey, but yet I couldn't tell you who I went to the senior prom with, if in fact I went.
Over the years, I have lived in many different cities and towns and several different states. Each location that I have hung my hat, I have called home. But, can I go back there? Can I go home again? Probably not.
I guess I'll always be 'a ramblin man'.

"Do you wanna read something really scary?"

Let me preface by saying that the supernatural really spooks me. I don't read horoscopes, I don't like to watch movies about psychics , hell, I am even scared of reading fortune cookies. It's probably the catholic upbringing and all of the stories about the devil.
I remember when I saw The Exorcist the first time. I was in Hobbs, N.M. on a business trip. I was staying at a Holiday Inn downtown and walked to the local theater. After the movie, I ran back to my hotel room, chanting "Hail Marys" and slept with all of the lights on in the room.
Well yesterday while I was at work at one of my pool customers, I lost my balance and fell down a couple of steps. I am usually very cautious but it was just "something" that caused me to fall.
After picking myself up and checking for any broken bones and wiping off a little blood, I resumed working. A few minutes later, I got a call from the person who promised to love, honor and bandage my wounds and what she told me just about sent me to the closest church.
At the exact same moment, Pattye was moving some boxes and she fell over backwards for some unexplained reason. She wasn't injured but just couldn't understand why it happened.
When I told her about my fall she said maybe she was trying to catch me.
Coincidence? I don't think so.
My crazy imagination? Probably not.
That special bond between people that causes them to think the same thoughts? You tell me.
It didn't scare me enough to start wearing garlic around my neck, but it reinforced those thoughts about not reading fortune cookies.
Man..........I hate when that happens

"Punctuation, Vocabulary, Syntax and My Worst Fear"

Hey, I've been through a lot. Maybe not as much as some of you, but a lot. War, death, marriage, divorce, IRS audit. You name it, I've been there.
But my scariest time came this morning when I opened my e-mail. I had a note from my highschool English teacher. SHE HAD READ MY BLOG!.
She didn't say it was good, she didn't say it was bad. There were no red marks correcting my spelling. No comments to the side of the page saying, "What do you mean by this?" No asking me if I had really read the book or was I using Cliff Notes.
I knew when I started this new blogging adventure there would be times that I wished I hadn't daydreamed in English class. Actually, it was one of my favorites subjects.
English, or rather Shakespearean English, was the only class I received an "A" in college. Well, I did get a "A" in Air Force ROTC, but that doesn't count.
I'll let the teacher go nameless, but I have to give credit to her for finding the hidden trait in my complex nature that has allowed me to put words on paper, or at least your monitor.
As some of you know, I am on a new mission.
I have had a life long dream to put the adventures I have had, tell about the people I have met, and release the dreams locked in my brain into a novel. I have the opening line and several pages already knocked out. It seems easier than I thought. We'll see when it gets into the copy editor's hands.
Is all of this the result of a dedicated English teacher who had the patience to put up with my smart- ass attitude?
She did make the comment in her e-mail which related to my profile on this blog page. She said I did have an opinion about everything back then also.
So here's to the ones who have made me what I am today. Here's to the people who thought this aimless youth might just might make a name for himself. Here's to the believers.
I'm richer beyond your wildest dreams. I have more treasures than the wealthiest sultans. I own the world. Not monetary goods, but imagination. For I have an imagination that allows me to travel the universe and I have the ability to tell others about it. All of this because I have friends who trusted in me and believed in me and who have had the patience to teach me how to communicate.
My thanks.

"When Marriages Go Wrong"

I'm sorry to inform all of you by way of this blog, but Pattye has filed for divorce. She said that she has given everything that she could to try and make the marriage work, but she just got tired of banging her head against the wall day in and day out, and things just seemed to get worse.
She's not bitter. Although I am.
She knows that she has always been honest. She has never cheated. She has never lied.
She and I have both worked at it day and night for over 10 years.
She says she had her good times and has no regrets.
She wants to remain friends but I don't.
She has a lot of memories and memorabilia and has made a lot of friends during the marriage.
She just wants to go on with her life.
She wants a new beginning. Me too.
Times change and what seemed like a great marriage at one point in time, suddenly finds you unable to speak with each other.
Everything becomes an adversarial relationship.
She has received some notes from people and has been told that she is making the right decision.
They wish they had the courage to do what she has done.
But I know she'll survive.
I know that she will be a happier person and get to enjoy a life that she richly deserves.
And, I know I'll be right beside her all of the time.
............Oh, she's not getting the divorce from me. No, I hope I didn't confuse you.
Pattye has decided to leave the Dallas Morning News.
Her relationship will end on a professional note.
She doesn't want me to voice my anger in this blog and I will respect her wishes.
She will always remain a honest, dedicated and forgiving person.
I wish I could say the same for myself. I am honest and dedicated but no, I can't forgive. I guess I don't have the character that she does.
She's the best.

"Another crossroads in time"

At times like these I feel like I am the luckiest man alive. The person who promised to love, honor and help me make decisions and I are discussing whether to choose another path in our continued search for life's enjoyments.
As the work environment continually changes we find ourselves either needing to adapt and compromise our integrity or choose a different source for income for our next couple of decades.
Fortunately, we both are hard-working and intelligent enough that whatever decision we make shouldn't have much of an economic impact should we decide to seek out another challenge.
My first choice would be to seclude myself and write that "Great American Novel". That has actually been suggested by Pattye, much to my surprise. Okay, anyone out there care to give me about a $100,000 advance?
Didn't think so.
Next, I have made a proposal to a certain individual to become his property manager and manage his estate while he involves himself in his celebrity career and numerous travels. Should that endeavor come to fruition our next set of choices becomes very desirable.
As some of you know, we have been developing a consignment business, Gathering Eggs .
Pattye would like nothing more than to spend her days buying and selling vintage and new collectibles. She has gotten the buying part down real well as evidenced by the daily arrival of new inventory and the selling part is coming into its own.
We recently made a commitment to expand our operation and decided to have one more sit-down together before we embarked on this project. The next morning after our discussion, we found that we had one of the best days so far in sales. Hmmmmm, I hope that is a good sign.
My biggest desire is for the chance to cut our workload to about 60 hours a week. No, I'm not exaggerating. That is about what we both put into our present situation. That's 60 hours each!
I long for the day when we can actually take a week-end off and travel to find more treasures to provide to the public, ( at a comfortable mark-up of course).
And yes, we could actually spend a Thanksgiving or Christmas without getting up at midnight.
Hey, I'm not complaining. We made the choice to do what we have been doing for the last 15 years, but the time has come to reassess our decision and do what is best for us, not for the one-sided thinking corporate structure.
And we always have our old faithful, Blue Sky Pools. And we have Free Obits . And we have accepting an offer with UPS . And working out of the house for American Airlines .
So don't be dismayed. We aren't.
We are thrilled that we have a chance in this great country of ours to do whatever we choose. All it takes is hard work and a little bit of intelligence and you can be successful. We have proven that time and time again.
So that's why I am the luckiest man alive. I have choices, I have friends, I have good health and I have a willingness to work hard. Doesn't get any better than this.
Now, about that advance, would you settle for maybe $50,000?

That sixth sense, with a little added technology"

How did our parents seem to have a sixth sense about them and knew where we had been and what we were doing particularly when we were doing something wrong? I mean other than the tell-tale signs of muddy shoes from the river bottom, or the aroma of cigarette smoke we tried to hide with Sen Sens , or as we got older the smear of pancake makeup on our collar.
My mother had this way of trying to get a whiff of my breath as I would come home, late as usual, on a Saturday night after drinking a couple of quarts of beer with my buddies during my hell-raising highschool days. I always got busted so I immediately admitted to having just a sip while my eyes tried to focus and my stomach churned waiting to expunge the contents of my evening's escapades.
The didn't have caller ID, they didn't have GPS, they didn't have eyes in the back of their head, although we often suspected that to be true. But they did have that sixth sense about them. They knew. And, it was that scary feeling that usually kept me somewhat along the straight and narrow path.
These days teenagers don't have a chance. With pagers and cell phones and picture phones, Mom and Pop can find their kids immediately. One companyTeen Arrive Alive can track your steps within 20 ft. of your location with GPS satellites. Even your dog can't wander off in the middle of the night without your finding him with new "chips" that can placed in their collar from Pet Finder
All this techno stuff I'm sure has a "back door" that can allow someone to cover their tracks. Even though you think you are getting away with something, you're probably going to get caught.
So the best advice that I can give you is: "If you don't want to get caught, then don't do it. Or at least wear clean underwear because people can see right through you".

"Lots of changes a happenin"

Lots of things are going down even as I speak, er, write. Some good, some bad, some ugly (great name for a western movie). Don't want to reveal anything right now. Will post it as the "worm" turns.
Your thoughts are appreciated!!

"One of the reasons I enjoy blogging"

Got a little freaked out when I saw the first day returns on the recent "Whatever happened to a handshake..... blog. Apparently it got picked up in a "feed" and had the highest number of so-far recorded hits. But that's not the reason I blog. I blog because it has brought me into contact with friends from my past. I've mentioned several previously, but a close friend and the sister of my best friend, recently e-mailed me after she caught my blog.
Delilah Shank, who we affectionately called, Deedles, said "Hi", and sent along a couple of pictures. Now you tell me, couldn't this be an ad for one of those mother/daughter commercials?
Delilah has had a long career in the entertainment business and is starting a new career teaching in the Los Angles area.
She reminded me of some old times back at Fairview High School in Dayton, Ohio and said she remembered me as the skinny kid who used to make everyone laugh.
Well, at least I can still make people laugh, I don't know about that skinny part though!
Great talking to you, Deedles

"Whatever happened to a simple handshake for a contract", and "My word is as good as a bond"

Never thought I would see the day, nope never did. I bet if I looked out the window I would see "pigs flying" .
"The time has come," the Walrus said, "to talk of many things: Of shoes and ships and sealing wax - - of cabbages and kings."
Yes sir, the time has definitely come to begin questioning what in God's name has happened to the essence of "Truth, Justice and the American Way".
Have I been so naive for my soon to be 57 years on this earth that I believed that "doing the right thing" was the honorable way to live. That if you did your job well, really well, that the outcome would be to the benefit of mankind?
For all the times I raised an eyebrow about the complainers who said, "I was screwed by the company", to them I apologize.
For the first time in my life, I have come to realize that the "man", "the suits", the people in charge, are truly the villains in working society. And for all of these years I have been one of them.
Even one of my previous blogs, "Where did we go wrong" just written in the past month supported management's side of the issues. I blamed all of the worker bees for the problems in working society. I blamed the rank and file for the poor attitude that has evolved into making the workplace a work place and not a fun place.
What has changed me in such a short time? What has happened that has caused my thinking to reverse after such a long time of believing that people really love their job?
Well, without naming names, a close friend is undergoing contract negotiations with their employer and it has turned ugly.
This person, twice a recipient of the company's top honor, a winner of numerous awards, has dedicated their time and efforts to doing the best possible job to make the company successful and prosperous. This person who has spent endless hours trying to help fix problems that management had no idea where to begin solving them. This person is now just considered a simple cog in the big machine that only wants to squeeze every last ounce of effort out of the employees with disregard for what consequences it may have, and for less money.
My advice: Walk away. Walk away and keep your dignity.
This particular company has already faced numerous charges of impropriety in a scandal that has rocked the industry. Some of the higher ups could face indictment. And, you know what? I hope they get their asses convicted and end up as "Bubba's" love-mate in a federal prison.
I've never thought it would happen here. I always thought that if you did the right thing, and did it well, you would prosper. Not so, not true anymore.
My eyes have been opened.
To paraphrase a verse that supposedly originated during the beginning of WWII.
"They came for the......, but I didn't speak up"
Well, I'm speaking up.

"Where, when did we go wrong?"

"Eureka, I have found it" is an idiom that isn't heard very often. Perhaps the younger generation may not have heard it all. As a matter of fact, there are a lot of things the younger masses may never have heard. Some good, some bad.
For the longest time I thought the above expression had something to do with finding gold in California since it is the California State motto. But after a little research I found the phrase is attributed to Archimedes, an ancient Greek, who after discovering the principle of displacing water, ran through the streets naked shouting, "Eureka, Eureka".

Well, I'm not about to run through the streets naked, I wouldn't subject anyone to that sight, but I do think I have found the answer to when and where we went wrong.

What I am talking about is, "when did we begin to accept mediocrity in the workplace?"

When did we begin to accept showing up late for work?

When did we begin to accept half-assed completed projects?

When did we allow our "Great American Work Ethic" to replaced by sub-standard productivity?

Am I ranting?, You're damn right I am.

I've had enough of correcting people's mistakes for laziness in not wanting to do their job correctly.

All I am asking for is "trying" to do your best.

So, Eureka, Eureka, I have found the answer.

It's simple, it's like Archimedes, when he was enlightened.

We went wrong when we began to commit the same offenses that we now judge or criticize our peers and successors for doing, and as a result, we have begun to perfom well below our standard for competent, correct performance.

At least maybe I have. And for that I am ashamed and embarrassed.

I went wrong when I began to accept, "Well, that's how everybody else does it". I went wrong when I accepted laziness and heard, "I will do it tomorrow". I went wrong when I accepted that half-assed completed report.

I can't blame those who have fallen down on the job. That's all they have been shown.

I can't blame someone for not showing up for work when they are tired. That's all they have been shown.

I can't blame someone's unwillingness, to get the job done right and on time. That's all they have been shown.

And who is their teacher? It's me.

If I am to expect greatness, or at least above average, then I must perform that way myself.
I can no longer accept mediocrity. I must demand better than that. Each time I allow someone to give me unsatisfactory results, and I accept those results, I am teaching them to be substandard.

If I expect results, I must demand results. No less than that.

Whether it be poor service in a restaurant, poor customer service within a company, or poor decisions from management, it is my duty to confront the issue. To explain to them that I will longer accept poor quality.

When do we go wrong?. We went wrong when we caved in. We went wrong when we allowed ourselves to accept nothing but the best.

Today, I change the world. Tomorrow, I'll enjoy the benefits of that change.

"To much to do, and so little time"

Mall News

Everyone who thinks I am spreading my self a liiiiiitle thin, please raise your hands. Thank you.
I'm not complaining, but.......
I realize it is all my fault, but I've decided to add one more item to my list of things to do. I am thinking about offering my services to the dealers at as an in-house, e-bay-like center to allow them to clear out some of their non-sellers and offer them to other dealers at the mall. That way everyone profits. There' s no bulletin board that offers the service, and maybe I can get a little reduction in rent. Speaking of which....

Expansion News

We have decided to expand our operation at Gathering Eggs . We our increasing our space almost 50% the first of July. We have added so many more items and still have plenty more to display. We also have some beautiful framed pictures ordered that you would find in an art gallery. They should be here soon.

New Hobby

Am also learning to weld. Well, not really yet, but am looking for some used welding equipment. I think I'll put the equipment right over there next to the router that I bought a couple of weeks ago and haven't picked up yet.

Recycle News

Logged onto a Richardson recycle forum. It's pretty interesting to see what everyone has to give away and what the scroungers are looking for. I'm sure there is one in your community. Check it out at Freecycle .

Dallas Market Center

Made a trip down to the Dallas Market Center and placed some orders and picked up some really great samples. Pattye placed a big order for Enamelware and we got a great buy on a Pie Safe , which I didn't know what the heck a pie safe was, but we got a real good buy.

Tiffany Update

My niece, Tiffany Terrell, who just spent her first year at the Univ. of South Carolina is spending the summer in Barcelona, Spain. Keep up with her happenings at her Blog. She is really a smart, intelligent, and gifted young woman. I'm sure she'll have a great summer there.

That's all folks...................

"Memorial Day" .....some thoughts

Try as I may, I can only remember one of my friends dying in Vietnam. I looked thru the list of casualties from Ohio and Donnie Sanders, Colonel White High School '65, is the only name I recognize from Dayton. I'm surprised. We were 18 and 19 years old in 1966 and we were the main source for the buildup that would last for 7 more years in Vietnam.

Donnie's name appears on the Vietnam Memorial

My brothers and I all served during this time. One brother, Dave, a little nobler than I, served a couple of tours in Southeast Asia. Never one to brag about his accomplishments, he was the recipient of the Silver Star, the third highest combat military decoration in the United States,  for his participation in the Son Tay Raid , an attempt to free American POWs. My other brother, Rick, and I served in the U. S. Army and U. S. Air Force, respectively.


Although most of the holidays anymore seem just like another day to me since my work schedule is almost 365 days a year, Memorial Day is one day that I do stop and take the time to think about what might have been and appreciate the men and women who gave their lives for this country.


Not one to take advice very often from my brothers, I do remember one day in particular that listening to my older sibling probably saved my life. It was October, 1970. I was in my senior year at the University of Oklahoma and wasn't going to be able to graduate because of a lack of credit hours. Back then, you were allowed 4 years in deferment from the draft and if you weren't in school, the only other places you would find yourself would be in Canada or the military. The draft was at its highest peak and I had lotto number 44 which meant I was out of time.
I decided to enlist and try to have control of my destiny rather than being drafted into the Army infantry.


Since I had been in R.O.T.C. for two years, another draft deferment ploy that many of us used, the recruiter had suggested I apply for the Army Warrant Officer's school. This was the training ground for helicopter pilots in Vietnam. I was gung-ho and couldn't wait. The day I was supposed to report to the induction center, everyone's paperwork was bogged down and after a day of testing and physicals we were told to return the next day to be sworn in. That night I called Dave, who was an Air Force officer at that time, and told him of my plans.


He said, "I 've never tried to tell you what to do, but the chances for your survival as a helicopter pilot are non-existent", He suggested I try the Air Force and get into a non-combatant role.
The next day I told the Army recruiter that I was switching to the Air Force, which really had him quite upset. I retested and enlisted in the Air Force and found myself 6 weeks later going to Langley AFB on a direct duty assignment, in Virginia, and eventually becoming editor of the base newspaper. Ironically, 2 years later, as I was putting the next edition of the newspaper together I came across the story of Dave being awarded the Silver Star.
Suffice to say, we all survived the Vietnam War and Dave remained in the Air Force and retired and Rick and I got out after our enlistment was up.


The ones that didn't survive are the ones we honor on Memorial Day.
Although I can only recall one of my friends not returning, I'm sure Dave has a whole list of people he knew that didn't come back.
So as we find our men and women thrust into a War in the Middle East 35 years later with deaths being added everyday, take a minute and pray for the ones that are there and honor the ones that didn't return. He or she might have been one of you.