Yea, broke the mold on this one.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
All my life he told me, "I think it's great, the whole country celebrates my birthday". I don't guess I really knew until the day I was honored to help carry him to his final resting place that he, once again, had spun a yarn.
You realize that he called me Jerry all my life.
He taught me to always keep a coffee can in the garage. You figure it out.
He said ALL women need love, every one of them. Seems he did his best. haha
The day he left I noticed a bus from the senior center (at 90, he won the Valentine's Day dance there)pulling up. The main thing I noticed was that it was full of women, that's all that got off that bus. I smiled to myself and said "Pops, no doubt, YOU are the man". Told me he outlived 2 wives and 3 girlfriends. I suspect he had more girlfriends than that.
One story I will never forget. For his 90th birthday, we took him to J.C. Penny at the mall to have some pictures taken. We are there and in walks a too tall, too blonde, too friendly camera person. She just had a fit over the old man. He was handsome, he was sweet, he was this he was that. I warned her. Hey, lady, you tell him what to do and he'll do it. Sit like this or that, hat on or off, smile now, whatever, but LEAVE him alone. Don't pick at him or flirt with him. She didn't listen. When the session was over, we stood up to leave and she made her final, foolish mistake. She walks over and bends down (doubt Pop's was much over 5 feet tall) and tells him what a pleasure it has been for her to take his picture today. That's when he struck, OMG, he reached up and put his little hands on the sides of her face and kissed her smack on the mouth! I thought I would wet my pants. I still remember that little grin of his and that look on her face. Priceless! I told her, "hey, I warned you".
He loved hugs, short man like that......loved to hug tall women best, I'm betting.
He told me that years ago he asked Miss Addie if he could take her widowed sister on a date. She said no, because he had to show her something. Well, he leaves the mountains and goes down to the Bell Bomber Plant and gets a job. Then goes over, not far from there and buys a house. Once he had done that, he went back to see if he could have that date now and she said yes. That was the beginning of a too short story. He took her and my mom to that house and he managed to stay for many many years. Right up to just shortly before he left this life. He had an apple tree in the back yard that had several different types of apples on it. He had a touch for growing things. Always had a garden. I was walking around the house with him one day and he hopped up and kicked both feet at the same time, kicked himself in the backside. He told me that as long as he could still kick himself in the butt, he'd be fine. He was in his 70's at the time.
He had this song he sang to kids. If you had a fussy child, if you could get it into his lap and he started singing that song, that kid had no chance. In minutes, he or she was asleep. Not really a song, just soft sounds. Wish I had that. I told my mother one time that I wanted to be like him, just a nice old man. It doesn't work that way. It's not something you can become, you either are or ..........not. It wasn't just women, everybody loved him, because he loved everybody. How else could he have married my grandmother? Somehow.......they just fit. Saw him walk through the kitchen, both of them in their 70's. As he walked by her, he patted her bottom. She kinda made a fuss, but not really.
He used to walk to that senior center. Put on his suit and tie, fedora and walk out in that hot, humid Georgia summer, down a good ways to hang out. I'm not sure how far it was, but most people way under 90 wouldn't have done it, especially in that heat.
He was a piece of work, that one. He used to make things out of wood. He made little rocking chairs and we had a table made out of tree branches. He had a lathe in the garage he was always messing with. He could do cane weaving, man, I have wished many times that I would have paid more attention to him and spent way more time with him. He really knew alot. I watched a movie where an old man told his son, "Sometimes I think God forgot about me". Then he remembered. Well, he remembered my Pops too. I couldn't even desire to have one more day with him. It was time and he was ready. It doesn't stop me from missing him though. Well, happy belated birthday, you ol' story teller, and happy 4th to everyone else. And by the way, it was July 1st, 1904 not, well you know.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Letter to the good senator from Oklahoma
I'm hoping that you will read this and maybe help me get involved.
Thanks,
Gary
Mr. Dorman,
I am Gary Manning, I live in Rush Springs and have since 2004. Today I talked to a woman in Lawton about her husband, John Foster, who is the Lawton motorcycle police officer who was severely injured in an accident when a car pulled out in front of his motorcycle. Also, recently, two people were killed just outside of Rush Springs when someone made a left turn in front of them while they were riding on a motorcycle.
My thought is this. With the ever increasing occurrences' of this nature, I have come to the realization that it is past time to do something. I believe that there should be a motorcycle awareness course that anyone involved in that type of accident should be required to attend. The cost should be paid by the offender with a time limit given with perhaps a temporary loss of the state driver's license if the course isn't taken. I'm thinking to involve the state motorcycle organizations in the preparation and implementation of the of the course. It could be taken at the regular state highway patrol locations. It also might be a good idea to require young drivers to complete the course as part of the regular licensing procedure. New riders may be required to take some sort of defensive driving course as well, before receiving a motorcycle license.
Sir, we must do something about this problem. With mounting fuel prices and the practicality and affordability of riding a motorcycle, their usage will continue to increase, as will the necessity of education for all drivers to prevent this all too common event from occurring.
I will also state that I am against helmet laws for the simple reason that people tend to feel "bullet-proof" while wearing them. I am a long-time rider and have taken several defensive driving courses that have kept me, so far, so good. When I wear my helmet, I also wear other protection, like glasses or goggles, leather and gloves. This is for protection from debris and weather changes or extremes. When you are struck by a moving vehicle, there is very little that your protection can do for you. Education is out best defense.
Thank you very much for your time and consideration,
Gary D. Manning
Thanks,
Gary
Mr. Dorman,
I am Gary Manning, I live in Rush Springs and have since 2004. Today I talked to a woman in Lawton about her husband, John Foster, who is the Lawton motorcycle police officer who was severely injured in an accident when a car pulled out in front of his motorcycle. Also, recently, two people were killed just outside of Rush Springs when someone made a left turn in front of them while they were riding on a motorcycle.
My thought is this. With the ever increasing occurrences' of this nature, I have come to the realization that it is past time to do something. I believe that there should be a motorcycle awareness course that anyone involved in that type of accident should be required to attend. The cost should be paid by the offender with a time limit given with perhaps a temporary loss of the state driver's license if the course isn't taken. I'm thinking to involve the state motorcycle organizations in the preparation and implementation of the of the course. It could be taken at the regular state highway patrol locations. It also might be a good idea to require young drivers to complete the course as part of the regular licensing procedure. New riders may be required to take some sort of defensive driving course as well, before receiving a motorcycle license.
Sir, we must do something about this problem. With mounting fuel prices and the practicality and affordability of riding a motorcycle, their usage will continue to increase, as will the necessity of education for all drivers to prevent this all too common event from occurring.
I will also state that I am against helmet laws for the simple reason that people tend to feel "bullet-proof" while wearing them. I am a long-time rider and have taken several defensive driving courses that have kept me, so far, so good. When I wear my helmet, I also wear other protection, like glasses or goggles, leather and gloves. This is for protection from debris and weather changes or extremes. When you are struck by a moving vehicle, there is very little that your protection can do for you. Education is out best defense.
Thank you very much for your time and consideration,
Gary D. Manning
Friday, June 18, 2010
2nd Shot
I was just laying here in this hay wagon thinking. Well, Tommy Wilson, his daddy's place backs up to ours, told me that this year my teacher would be askin me to write down what I did for summer. He's a grade older than me and I guess he knows. I'm here cuz mama said this year I could go huntin'. Daddy said I should stay in the wagon with my .22 in case something came around and spooked the horse. Anyway, I was thinking, what can I write that anybody wants to hear. I did get that new .22 for my birthday this year, but who don't have one of those? And I did get to come this time, even though mama wasn't happy 'bout it. But here I am, laying here looking at the stars through the pine trees. It is a hot night and the air is thick. I hear Mr. Wilson make that sound, granpa said it is called a "rebel yell". He said it scared the pants off them yankee soldiers, but mama said it must not of scared them hardly enough. Them dogs sure answered him though. Granpa said his daddy was in a war where folks was fighting cuz some had blacks working for them for free and some folks didn't want that. Didn't make much sense to me and mama said it didn't make no sense to her neither. Travis was with them too. He finally came home from a war, somewhere called "ovasees". He talked 'bout it sometimes and said things I didn't understand. I asked why a boy would cry and daddy said to mind my own buisness and mama said it was ok and not to worry 'bout it. Mama cried when he left and cried when he came back. Dang, mama cried when my sister June left too. Daddy told her if she was gonna have a baby by that useless Delmar Howard, she could leave and never come back. I missed her, been gone a year or more. How was she gonna have a baby when they wasn't married anyway. James wuz huntin' too. When Tim died, daddy said he didn't have to go to school no more cuz he needed him to help at home. Those Wilson boys wuz there. Mama didn't like them though. She said that he raised way too much corn for them to use and said he musta been making whiskey. They didn't go to church and Tommy hardly ever came to school. Tommy did take me down to a still once and we tried some of that stuff. I never could see how someone would pay to have some of that to drink. We didn't have much money, daddy said we had enough, but we didn't go to a store for much anyway. Well, about all I did this summer was go to the stock pond and swim to cool off. Me and James went some and once I saw him kiss Tommy's sister and she ran off. Why he did that I won't ever know. That is some things I don't ever want to do. I'm glad I don't have to be a mama cuz they cry too much. And I don't ever want to go ovasees, cuz it made Travis act funny and I never want to kiss a girl cuz she ran off and it didn't look like fun anyhow. But I did get to come huntin this time even if I had to stay in the wagon while them dogs of Mr. Wilsons ran through the woods and hollered and everybody chased them around all night. But I still don't know what to write about.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
"Adventure Bob's" last ride.
They say you never forget your first time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I've been told, everybody dies, but not everybody lives.
He earned his silver dolphins back in the early '50's. After serving in the Korean Conflict he went to college. He graduated in 1959 with a degree in petroleum and natural gas engineering. In 1975, he started Natural Gas Operations Co., dealing with local, independent natural gas producers.
At the age of 68, his love of motorcycles led him to start Adventure Motorsports. His knowledge of history helped him to lead several motorcycle expeditions across the old west. He explored the Oregon Trail from Missouri to Oregon. His travels included the Lewis and Clark Trail, some old stagecoach routes and the area surrounding Judge Roy Bean's saloon. He also covered the route from the book "Lonesome Dove" and the "Black Hills" and the site of Custer's Last Stand, along with Utah's Monument Valley.
Knowing this, I was not surprised when I heard "Chief" exclaim, "No way Bob's riding in a cage today!"
We lined up in a staggered formation, with Bob riding with "Chief" on the trike. Not a large group, 22 bikes plus the trike, and even had a 14 year old on a 250cc. Hey it's 50 miles, if he wants to ride, well, nobody objected. We left out from downtown Duncan with Officer Riley leading the way, lights flashing and sirens at all the crossroads, with another of Duncan's finest ahead blocking traffic for us. Out to the highway and north all the way through Duncan to the city limit sign, where an officer from Marlow took over and led the way into and through town out to the Grady County Line. And thanks to Grady County and to the Rush Springs City Police Department, we made it fine........ without you........again. Jay took over point position and you could tell, with the "Chief" organizing and Jay out front, it was going to be fine. We left highway 81 north and headed west on highway 17. Going out across the western part of Grady County, the long sweeping curves and lightly rolling hills. There had been some mention of rain, but it was said that "Bob, would've said, hey, suck it up and let's ride." But the motorcycle gods were with us this day, the sun out warm and bright, the beautiful blue sky with those huge cotton candy clouds. Boy, Bob sure had a great day to ride.
Out of Grady County into the flatter Comanche County, turning golden with the summer sun. Going through Sterling, the lone officer there was noticed in his car, switching the phone to his other ear. I suppose we made too much noise going through town. Further west as we approached Elgin, we were passed by a police cruiser headed eastward, but a few minutes later, here he came, lights flashing, siren wailing. Great, a collective thought, we are all going to be pulled over. Not so, it was an Elgin cruiser headed to relieve Jay at the front. He lead us into and through Elgin and out to the Fort Sill National Cemetery. Where, at the last turn, he pulled the car out blocking east bound traffic and pulled his hat over his heart as we rode by. Now, once inside we rode around what used to be a gently rolling field that was faced to the west by the old Wichita Mountains and the new windfarm.
We had maybe a dozen people with flags surrounding the small pavilion. Everyone watched intently and reverently as the Navy Honor Guard unfolded the flag and Taps was played. If that doesn't touch you, you are the one that's dead. And when the Honor Guard refolded the flag and presented it to the widow, "from the United States Navy in appreciation for his honorable service to his country." Well.... that'll get you too.
It was my first mission, as they call them, with my new friends, the Patriot Guard Riders. It won't be my last. I don't really think it was Bob's last either. Something inside tells me, he is riding hard and fast, in territory more beautiful than we did today. He has shared handshakes and hugs with his old unit and with family and friends that have gone on before. And now has the rest of eternity to follow his passions.
Yea, that's heaven.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I've been told, everybody dies, but not everybody lives.
He earned his silver dolphins back in the early '50's. After serving in the Korean Conflict he went to college. He graduated in 1959 with a degree in petroleum and natural gas engineering. In 1975, he started Natural Gas Operations Co., dealing with local, independent natural gas producers.
At the age of 68, his love of motorcycles led him to start Adventure Motorsports. His knowledge of history helped him to lead several motorcycle expeditions across the old west. He explored the Oregon Trail from Missouri to Oregon. His travels included the Lewis and Clark Trail, some old stagecoach routes and the area surrounding Judge Roy Bean's saloon. He also covered the route from the book "Lonesome Dove" and the "Black Hills" and the site of Custer's Last Stand, along with Utah's Monument Valley.
Knowing this, I was not surprised when I heard "Chief" exclaim, "No way Bob's riding in a cage today!"
We lined up in a staggered formation, with Bob riding with "Chief" on the trike. Not a large group, 22 bikes plus the trike, and even had a 14 year old on a 250cc. Hey it's 50 miles, if he wants to ride, well, nobody objected. We left out from downtown Duncan with Officer Riley leading the way, lights flashing and sirens at all the crossroads, with another of Duncan's finest ahead blocking traffic for us. Out to the highway and north all the way through Duncan to the city limit sign, where an officer from Marlow took over and led the way into and through town out to the Grady County Line. And thanks to Grady County and to the Rush Springs City Police Department, we made it fine........ without you........again. Jay took over point position and you could tell, with the "Chief" organizing and Jay out front, it was going to be fine. We left highway 81 north and headed west on highway 17. Going out across the western part of Grady County, the long sweeping curves and lightly rolling hills. There had been some mention of rain, but it was said that "Bob, would've said, hey, suck it up and let's ride." But the motorcycle gods were with us this day, the sun out warm and bright, the beautiful blue sky with those huge cotton candy clouds. Boy, Bob sure had a great day to ride.
Out of Grady County into the flatter Comanche County, turning golden with the summer sun. Going through Sterling, the lone officer there was noticed in his car, switching the phone to his other ear. I suppose we made too much noise going through town. Further west as we approached Elgin, we were passed by a police cruiser headed eastward, but a few minutes later, here he came, lights flashing, siren wailing. Great, a collective thought, we are all going to be pulled over. Not so, it was an Elgin cruiser headed to relieve Jay at the front. He lead us into and through Elgin and out to the Fort Sill National Cemetery. Where, at the last turn, he pulled the car out blocking east bound traffic and pulled his hat over his heart as we rode by. Now, once inside we rode around what used to be a gently rolling field that was faced to the west by the old Wichita Mountains and the new windfarm.
We had maybe a dozen people with flags surrounding the small pavilion. Everyone watched intently and reverently as the Navy Honor Guard unfolded the flag and Taps was played. If that doesn't touch you, you are the one that's dead. And when the Honor Guard refolded the flag and presented it to the widow, "from the United States Navy in appreciation for his honorable service to his country." Well.... that'll get you too.
It was my first mission, as they call them, with my new friends, the Patriot Guard Riders. It won't be my last. I don't really think it was Bob's last either. Something inside tells me, he is riding hard and fast, in territory more beautiful than we did today. He has shared handshakes and hugs with his old unit and with family and friends that have gone on before. And now has the rest of eternity to follow his passions.
Yea, that's heaven.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Wild Hog Report
Mom's Run 2010 Edition
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You know how to eat an elephant right? One bite at a time.
This one was a bit of a challenge. Last Saturday, I got up at 4 am, had breakfast, like I do before work. Only this day I was not going to work, I was going to take my 2nd annual "Mom's Run." This time to Winslow, AZ. I wanted to have my picture taken in front of a sign that really says, "Standing on a corner in Winslow, AZ". Just like in the Eagles' song.
I left out at 5 am, heading west toward Lawton and by the time the sun came up I was looking over at the beauty of the Wichita Mountains. Shortly after that I smelled the heavy, sweet perfume of the almost endless wheat fields of western Oklahoma. Nice start, purple mountains majesty and the amber waves of grain. I know why I live here and can't understand why others don't.
Out on this two-lane, you cross over into the craggy, rugged landscape that is northern Texas. Soon though you discover the huge expanse that is the Salt Creek Ranch. Forget the Ponderosa, and Southfork, this thing is something to behold. A pair of the biggest houses I've ever seen, anchoring a compound that would likely make J.R. feel envious.
Moving on north toward Amarillo, once again, the massive ranches and farms and more cattle than I've ever seen before. One of the few big towns seen on this trip was Amarillo, TX. It has what you'd expect for a city including the National Quarter Horse Museum. It's in Texas, so it has to be huge and I made a mental note that I'd like to return some day and visit. Somewhere west of Amarillo, I caught another familiar smell, stockyard. That's all I will say about that.
I had bought gas in Memphis.........Texas and I was wanting to stretch it out a bit, because of the time, so I went through Amarillo and ended up nervously hoping Tucumcari wasn't all that far. I do carry a one gallon gas can with me, full, in case, but.......
Anyway, I found out that it takes about 4.7 gallons of gas in my motorcycle to go from Memphis, TX. to Tucumcari, AZ. In a 5 gallon tank. That is part of the reason for these trips, pushing.
Once in New Mexico, the terrain changes dramatically. It reminded me much of Montana, but the colors are very different. I've never seen so much color. How can the earth, have so much color. It was difficult at times to keep my eyes on the road for stretching my neck to follow the lines of the surrounding hills. So tall and magnificent. I was spellbound by the fact that these mountains had been here, much like they are now, long before humans had been created. And they will be here long after. Beautiful little towns spring up and go by. Through Santa Rosa and into Moriarty, where the Memorial Of Perpetual Tears is right there on the side of the interstate. It is a memorial to those killed in the U.S. each year by drunk drivers. Check out their website, and if possible, I would encourage you to make a donation. Then onto the other "big" town, Albuquerque. Just before entering into Albuquerque, I noticed a woman, placing flowers around a small white cross on the side of the road. Not sure why I mention it, thought it was pertinent. Albuquerque blew me away, it is so pretty and clean for a city of it's size. All along this trip I was mesmerized by the beauty that is New Mexico. As I looked around, I felt like a hillbilly on his first trip to the big city. I spent most of my time looking up, buttes, mesas, mountains, whatever, I just couldn't believe what I was seeing. Not a movie or a picture, real! Sound like that hillbilly, huh?
After going through Albuquerque, it got tedious. I was starting to feel that wall coming up. The fatigue, soreness starting to settle in on me. My enthusiasm was waning, it seemed that Gallup would never appear and I had to get by there and on into Arizona. By the time I crossed the divide, which is not as dramatic as it is to the north, I was becoming anxious and maybe a bit depressed. My timing was off and I couldn't understand why. I was behind schedule. All that was adding up to a ride that was becoming a beating. Questions, will I make it, when can I rest, and others popped up causing the inside of my head to spin. Once I did get into Arizona, I stopped for fuel and called my Cat to talk a bit while I rested and finally ate a sandwich. I was in Sanders, AZ, still had about 100 miles to go and I was over my planned time schedule. I made the decision to stop and make Holbrook my turn around point. It's in the rules, if decision making becomes difficult, it's time to chill. I hated the fact that I was going to turn around before I made my goal. I did have the time and the mileage to qualify the run, but man, so close, but so far away. Once I decided to turn around, all of a sudden, I felt better. I began to feel excited again and the anxiety and depression lifted. Wise choice. I ran into the Dollar General in Holbrook and bought a $1 bandanna so I'd have a receipt with a date and time stamp and headed for home. On the way back, I found myself wondering about the power of those mountains. Was that what caused my anquish, leaving an area so full of magic? To me, those hills I imagined to be there to launch angels into Heaven. And I rode on and on. I did stop for a bit and took a couple of pictures of the sun setting on Laguna. Since my enthusiasm had returned, I discovered that not only was Albuquerque pretty during the day, but downright gorgeous at night. The way they use pottery to decorate the side of the interstate during the day, they use lights inside the pottery to show the way at night. Breathtaking, I have to go back for a vacation someday. I did finally check into the ironbutt motel after some 20 hours in the saddle and with 1138 miles behind me. After about 2 hours, some truck driver who didn't think I should be in the overnight parking for trucks helped me decide to move on toward home. Don't need all that. That was in Santa Rosa. Down the road a bit more, to the west of Amarillo, I rested again. As I have stated before, the sun rising has a narcotic effect almost. It fills you with spirit and strength, so when it came up about 1 1/2 hours after I checked back in to the motel, I was on the road, glad that I was obviously going to make it. I had talked all along to mom, she didn't answer the questions I asked about if she had been to New Mexico and seen all this, but I'm thinking she enjoyed the ride anyway. I was still 5 to 6 hours from home, not that the time went by so quickly, but I was on the back side and once again, I was to return home safely and none the worse for wear. It was an experience and I'm glad I did it and even though it was a bit rough at times, it was worth it. Next year, hmmm, a hint, maybe hog mecca. Thanks for riding with me. And thanks for the company ma.
As a postscript, I should add. A friend of mine passed away during my trip. He was a friend to me longer than anyone else I ever called a friend. He was a stand up guy and I'm sure a very good Marine. Ride on brother, yes I called you brother even though you never liked that and rest easy Marine, your service in Hell is over.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You know how to eat an elephant right? One bite at a time.
This one was a bit of a challenge. Last Saturday, I got up at 4 am, had breakfast, like I do before work. Only this day I was not going to work, I was going to take my 2nd annual "Mom's Run." This time to Winslow, AZ. I wanted to have my picture taken in front of a sign that really says, "Standing on a corner in Winslow, AZ". Just like in the Eagles' song.
I left out at 5 am, heading west toward Lawton and by the time the sun came up I was looking over at the beauty of the Wichita Mountains. Shortly after that I smelled the heavy, sweet perfume of the almost endless wheat fields of western Oklahoma. Nice start, purple mountains majesty and the amber waves of grain. I know why I live here and can't understand why others don't.
Out on this two-lane, you cross over into the craggy, rugged landscape that is northern Texas. Soon though you discover the huge expanse that is the Salt Creek Ranch. Forget the Ponderosa, and Southfork, this thing is something to behold. A pair of the biggest houses I've ever seen, anchoring a compound that would likely make J.R. feel envious.
Moving on north toward Amarillo, once again, the massive ranches and farms and more cattle than I've ever seen before. One of the few big towns seen on this trip was Amarillo, TX. It has what you'd expect for a city including the National Quarter Horse Museum. It's in Texas, so it has to be huge and I made a mental note that I'd like to return some day and visit. Somewhere west of Amarillo, I caught another familiar smell, stockyard. That's all I will say about that.
I had bought gas in Memphis.........Texas and I was wanting to stretch it out a bit, because of the time, so I went through Amarillo and ended up nervously hoping Tucumcari wasn't all that far. I do carry a one gallon gas can with me, full, in case, but.......
Anyway, I found out that it takes about 4.7 gallons of gas in my motorcycle to go from Memphis, TX. to Tucumcari, AZ. In a 5 gallon tank. That is part of the reason for these trips, pushing.
Once in New Mexico, the terrain changes dramatically. It reminded me much of Montana, but the colors are very different. I've never seen so much color. How can the earth, have so much color. It was difficult at times to keep my eyes on the road for stretching my neck to follow the lines of the surrounding hills. So tall and magnificent. I was spellbound by the fact that these mountains had been here, much like they are now, long before humans had been created. And they will be here long after. Beautiful little towns spring up and go by. Through Santa Rosa and into Moriarty, where the Memorial Of Perpetual Tears is right there on the side of the interstate. It is a memorial to those killed in the U.S. each year by drunk drivers. Check out their website, and if possible, I would encourage you to make a donation. Then onto the other "big" town, Albuquerque. Just before entering into Albuquerque, I noticed a woman, placing flowers around a small white cross on the side of the road. Not sure why I mention it, thought it was pertinent. Albuquerque blew me away, it is so pretty and clean for a city of it's size. All along this trip I was mesmerized by the beauty that is New Mexico. As I looked around, I felt like a hillbilly on his first trip to the big city. I spent most of my time looking up, buttes, mesas, mountains, whatever, I just couldn't believe what I was seeing. Not a movie or a picture, real! Sound like that hillbilly, huh?
After going through Albuquerque, it got tedious. I was starting to feel that wall coming up. The fatigue, soreness starting to settle in on me. My enthusiasm was waning, it seemed that Gallup would never appear and I had to get by there and on into Arizona. By the time I crossed the divide, which is not as dramatic as it is to the north, I was becoming anxious and maybe a bit depressed. My timing was off and I couldn't understand why. I was behind schedule. All that was adding up to a ride that was becoming a beating. Questions, will I make it, when can I rest, and others popped up causing the inside of my head to spin. Once I did get into Arizona, I stopped for fuel and called my Cat to talk a bit while I rested and finally ate a sandwich. I was in Sanders, AZ, still had about 100 miles to go and I was over my planned time schedule. I made the decision to stop and make Holbrook my turn around point. It's in the rules, if decision making becomes difficult, it's time to chill. I hated the fact that I was going to turn around before I made my goal. I did have the time and the mileage to qualify the run, but man, so close, but so far away. Once I decided to turn around, all of a sudden, I felt better. I began to feel excited again and the anxiety and depression lifted. Wise choice. I ran into the Dollar General in Holbrook and bought a $1 bandanna so I'd have a receipt with a date and time stamp and headed for home. On the way back, I found myself wondering about the power of those mountains. Was that what caused my anquish, leaving an area so full of magic? To me, those hills I imagined to be there to launch angels into Heaven. And I rode on and on. I did stop for a bit and took a couple of pictures of the sun setting on Laguna. Since my enthusiasm had returned, I discovered that not only was Albuquerque pretty during the day, but downright gorgeous at night. The way they use pottery to decorate the side of the interstate during the day, they use lights inside the pottery to show the way at night. Breathtaking, I have to go back for a vacation someday. I did finally check into the ironbutt motel after some 20 hours in the saddle and with 1138 miles behind me. After about 2 hours, some truck driver who didn't think I should be in the overnight parking for trucks helped me decide to move on toward home. Don't need all that. That was in Santa Rosa. Down the road a bit more, to the west of Amarillo, I rested again. As I have stated before, the sun rising has a narcotic effect almost. It fills you with spirit and strength, so when it came up about 1 1/2 hours after I checked back in to the motel, I was on the road, glad that I was obviously going to make it. I had talked all along to mom, she didn't answer the questions I asked about if she had been to New Mexico and seen all this, but I'm thinking she enjoyed the ride anyway. I was still 5 to 6 hours from home, not that the time went by so quickly, but I was on the back side and once again, I was to return home safely and none the worse for wear. It was an experience and I'm glad I did it and even though it was a bit rough at times, it was worth it. Next year, hmmm, a hint, maybe hog mecca. Thanks for riding with me. And thanks for the company ma.
As a postscript, I should add. A friend of mine passed away during my trip. He was a friend to me longer than anyone else I ever called a friend. He was a stand up guy and I'm sure a very good Marine. Ride on brother, yes I called you brother even though you never liked that and rest easy Marine, your service in Hell is over.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Thanks to ALL who serve.
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December 7, 1941. A kid is awakened by the sound of gunfire and his neighbor hammering on the door. He runs out and finds himself in the middle of a nightmare. Instead of running for cover, he runs over to man a 50 calibre anti-aircraft machine gun. His claim is that he doesn't know if he hit anything, but, "I shot at every Jap plane I saw." Two hours later, after the last plane was out of sight, he was ordered to leave his post and seek medical attention. He had 21 shrapnel wounds, including a bullet that went through his foot and an arm that he couldn't feel. He never thought of himself as a hero, he said he was just a kid that got really mad one day. That was Lt. John Finn, who was the first World War 2 soldier to receive the Medal of Honor. He passed away last Thursday, May 27th, at the age of 100.
This is the day we remember and celebrate the lives of those who watch over us. The ones who rush in as we rush out. The people in uniform who stand between us and those who would destroy our way of life. And as we celebrate with family and friends, we, of course should take a pause and think of those who are carrying a pager they hope won't go off, just one day. Those in uniforms, either soldier or ER nurse or any emergency personel.
Also, the unsung hero. Those people we don't notice. I have stated many times that I've never met a fireman I didn't like, then I met J.H. No, I'm not going to sit here on THIS day and talk bad about someone with whom I could never find enough common ground with to enjoy a friendship. But none the less, regardless of how we feel about each other, I know in my heart that if someone pages him and tells him that Gary's house is on fire, he will show up as soon as he can and will work as hard as he can to put that fire out. I know he will spit tobacco juice all over my lawn, but I sure will be glad to see him. He is also the guy who will give blood at any and all opportunities, without question or hesitation. And it also occurred to me, what if....... Say that someone decides that the company I work for has made enough money, in war torn countries and wants to do something about it. Make a statement. Who will be the first to know? Would it be the people we hardly notice that greet us as we scan our badges and walk through the front doors? How about that little blond at the back gate? Would that 5 foot tall, 90 pound lady, when faced with "a nightmare", become as Lt. John Finn and say, "I was just doing what they pay me for."
December 7, 1941. A kid is awakened by the sound of gunfire and his neighbor hammering on the door. He runs out and finds himself in the middle of a nightmare. Instead of running for cover, he runs over to man a 50 calibre anti-aircraft machine gun. His claim is that he doesn't know if he hit anything, but, "I shot at every Jap plane I saw." Two hours later, after the last plane was out of sight, he was ordered to leave his post and seek medical attention. He had 21 shrapnel wounds, including a bullet that went through his foot and an arm that he couldn't feel. He never thought of himself as a hero, he said he was just a kid that got really mad one day. That was Lt. John Finn, who was the first World War 2 soldier to receive the Medal of Honor. He passed away last Thursday, May 27th, at the age of 100.
This is the day we remember and celebrate the lives of those who watch over us. The ones who rush in as we rush out. The people in uniform who stand between us and those who would destroy our way of life. And as we celebrate with family and friends, we, of course should take a pause and think of those who are carrying a pager they hope won't go off, just one day. Those in uniforms, either soldier or ER nurse or any emergency personel.
Also, the unsung hero. Those people we don't notice. I have stated many times that I've never met a fireman I didn't like, then I met J.H. No, I'm not going to sit here on THIS day and talk bad about someone with whom I could never find enough common ground with to enjoy a friendship. But none the less, regardless of how we feel about each other, I know in my heart that if someone pages him and tells him that Gary's house is on fire, he will show up as soon as he can and will work as hard as he can to put that fire out. I know he will spit tobacco juice all over my lawn, but I sure will be glad to see him. He is also the guy who will give blood at any and all opportunities, without question or hesitation. And it also occurred to me, what if....... Say that someone decides that the company I work for has made enough money, in war torn countries and wants to do something about it. Make a statement. Who will be the first to know? Would it be the people we hardly notice that greet us as we scan our badges and walk through the front doors? How about that little blond at the back gate? Would that 5 foot tall, 90 pound lady, when faced with "a nightmare", become as Lt. John Finn and say, "I was just doing what they pay me for."
Saturday, May 22, 2010
MS WALK
Took a walk today, for a friend.
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I went for a walk today, it was a walk for Multiple Sclerosis. It was small, no where near the walk in Atlanta today. But the small crowd, celebrating the first annual walk in Ardmore, Oklahoma, did manage to come up with over $10,000. I was proud, I didn't raise all that much, but I'm happy for what I did raise and in supporting me, my friends helped me support another friend.
After registering, we talked with some of the volunteers and I'm not sure I should brag, but I did answer 4 of the 7 questions regarding MS on the quiz correctly. Hope you don't think less of me for that.
Just before the walk began, there was an invocation given by one of the local pastors. The boy scout troop held up the American Flag while everyone recited the Pledge of Allegiance. Once that was done, a young lady sang the National Anthem and did a pretty good job of it, followed by cheers. During those observances, it was mostly quiet, with what I considered to be proper respect. These Okies, they love it here almost as much as I do. :)
Then the walk started. It wasn't bad. There is a wide concrete surface that only had one good dip before the closest thing to a hill to climb came up. We and the others chatted as we walked down the tree lined path through the woods. Of course, Cathy had to speak to all the dogs on the way. We took a few pictures, tempermental cameras, hmmmp. And also, I guess you can't have this time of gathering without some kid, probably on the cross country team, shooting past everyone and the old man who feels kind of bad about being in the way. Then there are the small groups of supporters, shouting encouragement and appreciation to the walkers along the way. At the halfway point, there was the rest station, refreshment stand, AND the challenge of a longer walk. Another path led off to a longer walk for........the...younger folks. And at the end, another group of well wishers, waving pom poms and shouting "You made it!" and "Thank you!" , while yet another group was giving out the medals for the finishers. No, I'm not done. As you walk up and out toward the pavilion, the Antique Tractor Club had a tractor with the pto hooked up to a belt hooked up to an old fashioned ice cream churn. Uh...yea..it was good.
Ok, one last story. In addition to the signed headband I wore to show I was walking for my champion who is battling MS, I wore my So You Can Sleep t shirt. A guy walked up to me and said "tell your son in law, thanks for serving." I told him, I do, to which he responded, "no, tell him coming from a total stranger in Ardmore, Oklahoma, thanks for serving." I told him I would and that I was walking for two of my heroes.
So it was a good time and we did make our goal. What's next? Well I did sign up for a diabetes motorcycle ride in Witchita, Ks. for July and maybe a diabetes volunteer in OKC for October and I'm still thinking about the Patriot Guard Riders. Damn, Dennis, what have you done to me brother? Love you man.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I went for a walk today, it was a walk for Multiple Sclerosis. It was small, no where near the walk in Atlanta today. But the small crowd, celebrating the first annual walk in Ardmore, Oklahoma, did manage to come up with over $10,000. I was proud, I didn't raise all that much, but I'm happy for what I did raise and in supporting me, my friends helped me support another friend.
After registering, we talked with some of the volunteers and I'm not sure I should brag, but I did answer 4 of the 7 questions regarding MS on the quiz correctly. Hope you don't think less of me for that.
Just before the walk began, there was an invocation given by one of the local pastors. The boy scout troop held up the American Flag while everyone recited the Pledge of Allegiance. Once that was done, a young lady sang the National Anthem and did a pretty good job of it, followed by cheers. During those observances, it was mostly quiet, with what I considered to be proper respect. These Okies, they love it here almost as much as I do. :)
Then the walk started. It wasn't bad. There is a wide concrete surface that only had one good dip before the closest thing to a hill to climb came up. We and the others chatted as we walked down the tree lined path through the woods. Of course, Cathy had to speak to all the dogs on the way. We took a few pictures, tempermental cameras, hmmmp. And also, I guess you can't have this time of gathering without some kid, probably on the cross country team, shooting past everyone and the old man who feels kind of bad about being in the way. Then there are the small groups of supporters, shouting encouragement and appreciation to the walkers along the way. At the halfway point, there was the rest station, refreshment stand, AND the challenge of a longer walk. Another path led off to a longer walk for........the...younger folks. And at the end, another group of well wishers, waving pom poms and shouting "You made it!" and "Thank you!" , while yet another group was giving out the medals for the finishers. No, I'm not done. As you walk up and out toward the pavilion, the Antique Tractor Club had a tractor with the pto hooked up to a belt hooked up to an old fashioned ice cream churn. Uh...yea..it was good.
Ok, one last story. In addition to the signed headband I wore to show I was walking for my champion who is battling MS, I wore my So You Can Sleep t shirt. A guy walked up to me and said "tell your son in law, thanks for serving." I told him, I do, to which he responded, "no, tell him coming from a total stranger in Ardmore, Oklahoma, thanks for serving." I told him I would and that I was walking for two of my heroes.
So it was a good time and we did make our goal. What's next? Well I did sign up for a diabetes motorcycle ride in Witchita, Ks. for July and maybe a diabetes volunteer in OKC for October and I'm still thinking about the Patriot Guard Riders. Damn, Dennis, what have you done to me brother? Love you man.
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