Remembering the basics in this wonderful country

I don't do a lot of hiking anymore. Not that I was ever an avid hiker in the first place, it's just that well, I dunno, maybe the ole' body is slowing down. And, well maybe my lederhosen got too tight and started givin' me a wedgy.

Regardless, Pattye and I hiked last week while we were touring Oklahoma and visiting with Ben, Kass and the boys as well as Norm and Jana over Thanksgiving.

One of the places we visited was Turner Falls, Oklahoma, a place I hadn't seen in almost 50 years when I made my first trip south from Norman, Oklahoma down to Dallas. Back then Interstate 35 wasn't completely finished down through the Arbuckle Mountains where Turner Falls is located. As you cruised south on Highway 77, you were forced to slow down to about 10 MPH as you navigated hairpin turns through the foothills... The road hasn't changed much in those 50 years and "The Falls" are as beautiful as they were once before.

Something that has been added is a zip line that stretches across the canyon for 777 feet. Something that I might have tried ridin' back in the day, but now I just enjoy watching others ride it.

Another stop during our 4 day getaway was circumnavigating Lake Murray in Ardmore, Oklahoma, only a few miles from the grandboys house. This gorgeous lake has 67 miles of primitive shoreline nestled in the middle of Lake Murray State Park.

I have probably driven past Lake Murray more than 100 times as I have journeyed from Dallas to Oklahoma City or Norman during these last 50 years. Although the lake is only but a mile or two off the highway, it can't be seen from the highway. So for all of those years I missed a truly magnificent body of water.

This man-made lake is a tribute to one of the greatest accomplishments in bringing America out of the Depression. The lake and State Park was built by young men of the Civilian Conservation Corp and organized through the Works Progress Administration.

There's a wonderful display at the lake detailing with documents and pictures the efforts of the young men who built this State Park as well as hundreds of State Parks and National Parks around the country.

If any of you have ever set foot on a trail in any State Park or National Park, you have no doubt walked in the footsteps of these same people.

The peacefulness of the lake and seeing the results of these young men gave me cause to think how wonderful it would be if the youth of this nation, the ones who are "lost" with no direction, or "confused" as to what their next chapter might be or who may want some type of direction...if they had an opportunity to earn self respect and at the same time giving back to this wonderful country...how it might serve many purposes.

Anyway, the time to reflect did me a lot of good, plus it got the ole' bones a workin' again.

Too often, I've taken for granted many of the things that make this country great. One is simply nature.

So now I challenge myself and any others who happen to be reading this musing. Let's shut down our "devices" sometime this coming year and get outdoors and do ourselves some good.

Breathe it all in, while the air is still fresh and be thankful for what we have and what we could do if we made the effort.

It's all about the journey....umm kinda

I've been working around water professionally for over 25 years ever since Pattye and I started Blue Sky Pools back in 1989. I've seen thousand of pools from simple little wading pools to mind-blowing $200,000 two and three tiered vanishing edge pools.

I've seen  thousands of ponds with elaborate lighting features and waterfalls that give you the illusion you are in the  middle of the Amazon.

Even our side yard, which often times for most people, is an unused piece of property, is a series of waterfalls and catch basins with beautiful goldfish swimming lazily year round. You can see some of it here. Pond

All this being said, I wanted to start adding even more water features and designs.

I've seen flowing-water urns before and I even recently joined Pinterest to find out as much as I could to start developing my own design. And even provide friends and consumers with simple DIY instructions.

I've made about 10 visits to Home Depot and Loews in the last two weeks. I've gathered parts and pieces, tried different flowing techniques, looked at different pieces of pottery.

I did everything right until yesterday.

I had finally found a way to get a perfect tight seal on our newly purchased ($125.00) urn. One that stood about 3 feet tall. I changed pump sizes to get even a higher flowing fountain. Everything was right. UNTIL...I tried to make a few changes and center the urn and level it just a little bit more.

It fell. It broke. I was mad, sad, pissed, and kinda broken just like that dang pot. I should have emptied it before I moved it. Yep, my bad.

I'll start over again. I've learned more about hydraulics in the past week than I really needed. But things will be fine....

I just had to remember...It's all about the journey...not the destination.

It's only work if you don't enjoy it

I'm sure all of us, at least I hope so, have worked at a paying job sometime in our lives. I mean something a little more than the babysitting or throwing newspapers. I think most of us have had that business experience in life.

Now, however, before I get started, I'm simply going to honor all  all of the women who went directly from high school or college and began raising a family. All of us know there is NO OTHER harder work than being a mom. As a mom, and sometimes a dad, you have to be a doctor, lawyer, cook, storyteller, chauffeur, and well, just about everything in the world and you get no monetary compensation.

So, that being said...my story today is about the long list of exciting, demanding, unbelievable and frustrating jobs I've had over the years.

I guess my first real paying job was sweeping the floor at Leo's Barber Shop down on Riverside Drive in Dayton, Ohio. I got down there after dinner at my house, which was just up the street,  right after the barbershop had closed. It was a three-chair operation and served pretty much the entire neighborhood.

I probably made a dollar or two for the week plus I got a free haircut. Plus I got to spin around in the chairs after closing and of course pump them up as high as I could get them and then release them rapidly. Also, playing with the shaving cream dispenser and carefully, very carefully, sending that straight razor back and forth across the razor strap was also a thrill.

Later on in high school as I advanced up the working chain, I found myself after high school.working in a field that I thought my prove to be a entry level position in the medical field. It wasn't

I had a connection at a clinic downtown across the street from Miami Valley Hospital, which ironically was where I was born. My aunt was the Office Manager for a group of Ophthalmologists in the building which also housed several Internists.

That group of Physicians had a lab down in the basement where all of the blood and urine tests were handled for the doctors.

My job after school was having the responsibility of getting all of those urine bottles all sparkly clean for the next day.And of course, the bottles remained full of the specimen in case a test had to be done over. Uh-huh..Thirty of forty bottles each day waited for me. In all shades of yellow, chartreuse and an occasional light brown color. If I was lucky, there might have been a left over stool specimen container that had to be cleaned as well. That job lasted for two years. That my friend was a memorable experience.

In college, I worked doing everything from being desk clerk at a Howard Johnsons, , a busboy at a Holiday Inn, A chauffeur for a quadriplegic, who was a very successful business man which later evolved into  meeting and becoming friends with Jim Brady, President Reagen's Press Secretary, who was shot along with Reagen.


And another fun job of working in the kitchen and serving food at the State Mental Hospital in Norman, Oklahoma. You never knew what to expect each night at dinner time as the patients shuffled through the line. Sometimes the men women would flash you, growl at you, stare at you or even try to slip you a note telling you there were being held against their will...duh.

Anyway, the list goes on and on. Everything  from being  a stringer for the Air Force Times, a newspaper editor as well as a reporter.

And of course, the experience of working for Chuck Norris, as his property manager for 18 years.

Later on  Pattye and I would start a  successful swimming pool service business some 27 years ago.

Just a few memories on this Sunday morning.

I have loved working. I still work and I hope I never lose the enthusiasm.

The Wonderful Memories of the Neiman Marcus Christmas Catalog

Yep, kiddies...believe it or not it’s only 9 weeks until Christmas. But you probably already knew it was getting close since Home Depot and Walmart have all of their Christmas decorations up in their respective stores.

But around the Kender household in Dayton, Ohio when I was a lil' Skeeter boy growing up, the first sign that Christmas was near was the arrival of the Neiman Marcus Christmas catalog. The holy grail of catalog shopping.

Click to view the Christmas catalog online

I'm not sure how we ever got on the mailing list. Mom certainly never ordered anything from the beautiful magazine. Even still, it arrived every October. And it was just pure magic. I did my best to leaf thru each page and try to act like I was interested in the clothes and furniture stuff....I didn't know the term Home Accessories at that time, all I wanted to see were the His and Hers gifts that only a gazillionaire could afford.

And now, the 2016 edition is online in its full dreamy world.

I remember one of the things we did when I came to Dallas for the first time with my mom and dad. It was 1965, and my niece, Kimberly, was born in Waco and we drove down from Dayton to see her as well as my brother, Dave, and his wife. We spent the night in Dallas and stayed at the Holiday Inn near downtown. The next day we walked through the famous store and were dazzled by the beautiful items. Little did I know I would move here 13 years later.

Anyway, back to the catalog.  

I was always very careful turning the pages because I knew this was something I would treasure until a few days before Christmas hoping that maybe, just maybe, I might get one of those special gifts. Maybe a ride in an Indy car or my own airplane.

It wasn't like I was living out in the sticks. We had a wonderful department store, Rike's, in Dayton, but this was Neiman's. The best of the best.

I can remember His and Hers boats. His and Hers cars. His and Hers trips. His and Hers jewelry. His and Hers helicopters.It was exciting...but then when I saw the prices!....wow...now that was some Christmas present.

So once again. I fell into my dreamy world when I looked at the catalog this year. A lot has changed. You can view it online.  You can have your gifts delivered overnight. And, yep, you can dream about that "special" gift. How about a trip for two to the Grammy Awards for just a mere $500,000.  Time to dream...and shop.... 

One of my Dad's saddest and proudest moments with me

I grew up in the "old school" of affection with my parents. Mom and Dad both loved me but with Dad it wasn't ever that warm hug or even that tousling of my hair or giving that "fake punch". It wasn't done back then, I don't think. Maybe it was but I usually didn't see it in my friends homes either.

Dad just worked.  He worked hard. He left early before I got up and came home at dinner time.

One of his great joys was certainly baseball and he coached, managed and sponsored baseball teams for all three of his sons and many of my friends today had a chance to play for Dad. My friend for 58 years, Eddie Stout, often tells a story of  Dad's care and concern for the kids on the baseball team. 

As I mentioned earlier, Dad was always loving but never emotional "touchy" loving. I guess it was the times or maybe how he grew up.

There was one exception.

When I was at the University of Oklahoma, I invited Dad to come to the annual Father's Day weekend. He couldn't have been prouder.

Most of my fraternity brothers were all from the Southwest, either Texas or Oklahoma, and here my "Yankee" Dad shows up from Dayton, Ohio. But Dad had that infectious personality that immediately bridged the Mason-Dixon line and Dad was welcomed by all. He was made an honorary "Okie" and wore the little lapel pin that was given to him proclaiming his new title.

 He beamed with pride all weekend and I felt a pride that I never knew I had for him as he blended in so well. When he left to fly back to Dayton, we hugged and maybe for the first time we said, "I Love You" to each other. We had never said that before.

The next year, he returned for Father's Day. He was excited. He wore his Okie Pin and immediately began renewing friendships with the fathers he had met the previous year.

But this year would be different. 

I had decided to work as a "houseboy" at the fraternity house my sophomore year to help offset the cost my parents spent for me to go to college. Neither my Dad nor Mom knew I was doing it.

When it came time to have dinner at the house on Friday night, I told Dad that I had to work and help serve meals. He didn't understand. I told him it was okay and I was just trying to help pay my way and several of us were working and their Dads were here for the weekend as well.

His eyes teared up and  he felt so sad that I had to work for a few hours that evening....but always the proudest and kindest man...and as my fraternity brothers and their Dad's filed into the dining hall, here was my Dad, sleeves rolled up, an apron on, and he and his son, his proud son, served the meals together.

After we finished for the evening and joined the rest of the group. We did the handshake and a slight hug. When he left at the end of the weekend. He simply said, "I'm proud of you and love you". I think it was his happiest moment with me and probably now just the second time we had said that.

I wish I could tell him now that simple simple phrase of..... "I love You, Dad".