Lucky Man

I'm feeling a bit sentimental this morning, so, for just a few minutes, I'll shed my curmudgeonly nature.

A couple of days ago, my daughter, Becky, called and asked if I'd like to meet her for lunch.  As she lives 2-3 hours away, it was something of a sacrifice for her.  Of course, I said yes.  What man in his right mind turns down lunch with a beautiful, smart, witty, and talented daughter?  Right?

As we were standing in the restaurant waiting to be seated, I glanced up and my son was standing next to us.  He lives 15 hours away (in Denver, CO) and was in town for business.  I didn't know he was in town, so I was shocked to see him.

Wow.  Lunch with two of my three kids.  And it was their idea!  That's what I've been thinking about.  They wanted to spend time with their old man.  Naturally, they expected me to pay, so it could be that they just wanted a free meal, but I'll choose not to dwell upon that for the time being.  It would be too curmudgeonly to do so.

As if their mere presence wasn't enough, Becky came bearing gifts for a combo Father's Day/Birthday.  She gave me the nicest photo of her and me from her wedding 5 months ago.  I love photos from my kids.  Every one is always displayed proudly.

In addition to the photograph, she gave me a six-pack of TurboDog, some coffee, and some espresso candy.  She knows her dad!

Also, her wit was on full display with the Father's Day card she choose.  Here's the front:



And here's the inside:

I'm still laughing about it.  When she was little, I used to say that she was snarky.  Methinks that she's not outgrown it.

Debunking Racism-One Klansman at a Time

Yesterday, I saw a documentary on Netflix called Accidental Courtesy.  It's the story of blues/jazz musician Daryl Davis and his relationship with white supremacists.

Interestingly, Davis is Black.

It's not often that I find something truly thought provoking these days.  Neither do I find very many unique approaches to societal problems. 

But, Daryl Davis is both thought provoking and unique.

His premise is a simple one.  He began to ponder on this question as a boy:

"Why do people hate me when they don't even know me?"

To give some context, you need to know that Davis was born in 1958.  His father was in the Secret Service and later he was a Department of State Foreign Service Officer.  Because of his father's vocation, Davis lived all over the world as a child and was exposed to various cultures, races, and religions.  He went to school with children from all over the globe.

And they all got along fine.

Until he came home to the America northeast and joined the Cub Scouts.

While marching in a parade with the other Cubbys, things were thrown at him.  He must have been a pretty cute little kid, because he thought that people in the town must really hate the Cub Scouts.  He didn't even realize that he was the only black child in the group, nor did he realize that he was the only one being hit with projectiles.

When he got home and described the incident to his parents, they broke the sad news to him that there were people who hated him because of his skin color.  Instinctively, he was sure that they were wrong.  People didn't hate over something so superficial!  Anyway, how could they hate him if they didn't even know him?

He was certain that his parents were lying to him.

His ten-year old mind could not get around the fact that his parents were telling him an awful truth.

He went on to attend Howard University where he graduated with a degree in music.  Since then, he's made a name for himself playing with such legendary icons of American music as Chuck Berry, Jerry Lee Lewis, and B.B. King, to name just a few.

Along the way, though, he developed an interesting side vocation: meeting and befriending white racists and supremacists.

Flying the Friendly Skies

Megan in FreeFall

Fiancée has some quirks.

One of her quirks is that she loves being surprised.  You may lazily yawn and say that you enjoy a good surprise, too.  But that is not at all what I'm talking about.  I mean that she LOVES it.

Think last-day-of-school-summer's-here-now kind of excited.

Think winning a billion dollar lottery kind of excited.

Think the-kids-are-gone-for-the-weekend kind of excited.

If you're female, think bubble bath, a glass of wine, and no one yelling, "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy," kind of excited.

If you're a guy, think kids are being quiet, she's shriveling in the bath, and I'm not in trouble for something that I don't really understand kind of greatness.

She gets like a little kid.

Not kidding.

Needless to say, I noticed this pretty early on in our relationship, and, to my credit, I have created some cool surprises for her.

Redfish in Venice, Louisiana

Once, I took her fishing in Venice, Louisiana.  She had no idea where we were going, much less the reason for the trip.  We were at the end of the continental United States, right before one disappears into the Gulf of Mexico, and she still didn't quite know what we were doing all the way down there.  She didn't do very well at guessing that surprise, but she caught plenty of redfish and speckled trout that day.  She was excited.

So, keeping with the tradition of random surprises, I found a skydive place and booked a reservation for her.  Unbeknownst to her, of course.  Then I told her the date and said that that day was all mine because she had a surprise coming.  I even handled the child-care issues.

She says that I'm amazing.

Who am I to question insight when it's so perceptive?

Shipwrecked at Angola

Shipwrecked

Well... We made it back from the rodeo all in one piece.  We even had a good time, mostly.  Successful trip, I'd say.  Wouldn't you?

We began the journey later than we meant to, but, of course, that's my fault.  Somehow.

As you may or may not know, Fiancée has two sons.  One, of course is the little tornado; he's eight.  The other is a freshman in college; he's eighteen.  We decided to swing by his university and include him in our little rodeo soiree.  I was happy to do so, and I'm glad he went.  Besides, he's thin, so he doesn't really add much weight to the bus.

After picking up skinny boy, we headed to Vidalia, Louisiana to overnight in the Wal-Mart parking lot there.  I'm really getting acquainted with the Wal-Mart parking lots in America.

Crossing the Mighty Mississippi

I went to sleep with instructions to be awakened at a certain time, but Fiancée took pity on me and let me sleep in.  (For you English critics out there, "in did she allow me to sleep.")  She's really very sweet to me.  And I do try hard to appreciate her kindnesses.  My new motto is: "Clocks be damned!"  It's easier that way.

We crossed the mighty Mississippi River into Natchez, Mississippi and headed south to Angola.  I've never been this way before, so I had no knowledge of the local roads.  I followed the GPS which directed me onto a "highway" that has a speed limit of 45mph.  Hmmmph.  I came to the conclusion that 45mph was a very optimistic assessment of the maximum speed that one should travel on this particular stretch of asphalt, patches, and potholes.

Angola Prison (Rodeo) Bound

Each spring and fall, Angola Prison in Louisiana hosts one of the most unique events in America: The Angola Prison Rodeo (APR).

To date, I've been four or five times and I've enjoyed them every one.

If you're thinking that you don't much care for rodeos, don't stop reading because the APR isn't a regular rodeo and it's not just about the rodeo; there's much, much more.

For starters, the rodeo has events that sane people wouldn't even begin to try.  Pictured above is an event called Guts Poker.  In this event, four inmates are seated around a card table.  Sounds simple enough, until you learn that a bull is released into the arena.  The bull is then goaded into attacking the participants by the rodeo clowns.  It's a game of attrition... the last one seated is declared the winner.  The event is aptly named; all it takes to win is guts.

The other part of rodeo day is the hobbycraft area.  Over the course of the year, inmates built a wide variety of handmade items.  Leathercraft, woodwork, sculptures, paintings, etc. are all for sale.  In the past, I've bought a handmade guitar, several rocking chairs, and various other small items.  All of high quality and terrific craftsmanship.

I can't emphasize this enough:

 

GO TO THE RODEO AT LEAST ONCE IN YOUR LIFE.

 

You won't be sorry.

Our plan is to hit the road this Friday (April 21, 2017) and attend the rodeo on Saturday.

If you know anything about how our adventures go, there will surely be some sort of catastrophe along the way.  It's just how we do it!

Stay tuned for the adventure.

SOLD !!!

Recently, Fiancé made a discovery. 

Not to be outdone, I also had a Eureka moment.

My discovery was that a woman with too much time on her hands and a knack for surfing the internet will find new and strange ways to spend money and cause general mayhem.

She discovered online auctions.

Did you know, for instance, that, for just a few dollars, you can buy a storage room full of junk?  Honestly, I didn't know that.  But, may the good Lord have mercy upon my soul, I know it now.

The super cool thing about this is that for, say, five or ten dollars, you can be the proud owner of a room full of garage sale items.  But the thing I love most is that this cheap room full of stuff is usually in another city.  It's ideal, really.

Just this past weekend, I had the good
fortune to travel to Houston to pick up a room of junk.

On the Road

One day, out of the blue, fiancé had a simple idea.

(Most disasters in my life begin with a simple idea, but they're usually my own.)

She wanted a place to sleep when we go visit my mom.  Now, mom's house is just fine, but, when we go to visit, we have a tornado of a little boy and a mammoth of a puppy.  Our 10 month old puppy now weighs almost 180 lbs.

As such, my fiancé doesn't sleep well because she's worried that our invading force will wake the rest of the house.  It's all in her head, of course, but try telling her that.  Really, please try telling her.  I've not had any luck with it; perhaps you will.

A couple of months ago, she sweetly said that it would be nice to have a small travel trailer that we could leave at mom's place.  That way, she explained, she would have a place to collect her brood and know that she wasn't bothering anyone.  In so doing, she could finally get a good night's sleep while visiting.

She had something like this in mind:

I wasn't too wild about a little-bitty thing like that, but, whatever.  All I could imagine is how many times I'd bump my head and scrape my shins.  I have to tell you, I wasn't warm to the idea.  I was willing, but it didn't sound like very much fun.

Then she kept on researching.  She discovered that one could get an older motor home for a reasonable price.

Unfortunately, that little discovery unleashed an avalanche.  Before we knew it, we were knee-deep in motor homes for sale.

Up until this point in my life, I'd never wanted a motor home.  Now all I could see was me cruising across the country with my house strapped to my back.  Johnny Appleseed and Lewis & Clark eat your hearts out!

I had the fever.