We left Oklahoma City soon after an early motel breakfast on day 2 of our westward journey along portions of Historic Route 66.
Destination: Albuquerque.
We had replaced our defunct GPS at a Best Buy in Oklahoma City the night before, though it had a fairly easy job. After navigating a couple of side streets to get on the highway, it instructed us to get on I-40 West and follow it for 547 miles. Not much chance for a wrong turn there.
In Missouri I'm used to driving past fields of corn and soybeans. In southern Oklahoma and northern Texas the crops were different: cotton and wind. Though the cotton fields ended not long after we crossed the Texas state line, southern Oklahoma and northern Texas were lined with slowly turning, power-generating wind turbines as far as the eye could see.
Near Amarillo a billboard tried to entice us to stop at the "Top of Texas Catholic Super Store." Since many of our best friends and neighbors are Catholic, I saw no reason to stop and shop for new ones.
The Big Texan Steak House in Amarillo still offers a free 72 ounce steak, provided you eat it in one hour. If you don't? No price was listed, but with a 16 ounce restaurant steak running around $20, the math would suggest a tab of at least $100 if you fail.
West of Amarillo we passed by a very large, very aromatic, cattle feedlot operation that threatened to overwhelm the senses. Shortly after that, Mother Nature successfully overwhelmed our senses. Topping a rise we were suddenly presented with a panoramic view of buttes and valleys, rocky outcroppings and vast open spaces against the horizon. If I closed my eyes, I could imagine the cowboys of Lonesome Dove slowly driving the cattle they stole in Mexico north to Montana. Since I was driving, I tried to imagine it without closing my eyes.
As we entered Albuquerque, our new GPS roused from it's direction-free day and began spewing directions again. Our vintage motel, the voyeuristically named "Sandia Peaks Inn" (Sandia peeks in), is located on historic Route 66. "Vintage" is often a euphemism for "old", not exactly a good thing for motels. The Sandia Peaks Inn was very nice, though somewhat noisy due to its location adjacent to a very busy street. Loud stereos and thunderous mufflers periodically pierced the night as vehicles waited at the traffic light a mere 75 yards from the door to our room. The price was right though. Only $67, including tax. More than enough savings to pay for the ear plugs I inserted before turning out the light.
Next stop: Grand Canyon.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Monday, October 29, 2012
Adventure on the Mother Road
I awoke this morning to news of a 7.7 earthquake off the West Coast. Just now on The Weather Channel the weather forecaster advised residents along the East Coast to prepare for what could be the "biggest storm of your lifetime." I just finished a meal covered with potent green chilies in Albuquerque, N.M. at an authentic Mexican restaurant so some gastrointestinal turbulence could be in the forecast for me.
Accompanied by our Australian relatives, Joe and Terry, we left town headed west along old Route 66 on Saturday morning. The first thing we saw as we turned west on I-44 was a string of utility trucks headed east to deal with the predicted damage when Hurricane Sandy and a potent winter storm combine to sock the east coast with what some are calling "Frankenstorm" due to its proximity to Halloween.
In Joplin, I detoured along 20th street to show Joe & Terry the slow growth along the path of the monster tornado that devastated the area on May 22, 2011. Much of what was once the heart of Joplin can still pass for pastureland. After showing them Fred & Red's, the iconic Joplin restaurant that is now closed, we headed south to 3347 1/2 Oakridge Drive. It was there on April 13, 1933 that Bonnie & Clyde and Clyde's brother and sister-in-law, Buck and Blanche Barrow, were involved in a shootout with Joplin area law enforcement personnel. Two of the officers involved were killed, The outlaws escaped. To view pictures, then and now, of the second floor apartment where the shootout took place, go to:
http://texashideout.tripod.com/joplinapartment.html
Three things happened when we crossed the Oklahoma State line: the speed limit increased, the gas price decreased and there was an $8 toll to navigate to Oklahoma City.
West of Vinita we stopped for lunch at "The Glass House", a McDonald's that spans all four lanes of Will Rogers Turnpike. There you can watch 18-wheelers passing just below your feet as you pause your journey to grab a fast food meal. Though once billed as the "World's Largest McDonald's", a sign in the parking lot now concedes the almost 30,000 square foot restaurant is "The World's Second-Largest McDonald's". The times they are a'changin'. McDonald's in China, Russia, Florida and the London Olympics now vie for the title of "World's Largest." Though its title as largest has been usurped, I think it is safe to say this is the only McDonald's in the world where customers are greeted by a larger-than-life-size statue of Will "I Never Met a Man I Didn't Like" Rogers. Will once suggested restricting the use of highways to cars that were paid for as a way to reduce congestion. Oklahoma chose to charge tolls instead.
It was after lunch that our trip along the general vicinity of historic Route 66 took a more authentic turn. Our GPS went, directionally-speaking, belly up, and we were forced to navigate the old-fashioned way - with our brains.
We made it.
But we purchased another GPS in Oklahoma City.
Thanks to my brother for agreeing to house-sit for us as we journey westward with our Aussie kinfolk. (Note to my brother: I'm sorry you did poorly in your anger management classes but I am proud of the accolades you have since earned in mixed martial arts. Those skills should come handy with our cats.)
Accompanied by our Australian relatives, Joe and Terry, we left town headed west along old Route 66 on Saturday morning. The first thing we saw as we turned west on I-44 was a string of utility trucks headed east to deal with the predicted damage when Hurricane Sandy and a potent winter storm combine to sock the east coast with what some are calling "Frankenstorm" due to its proximity to Halloween.
In Joplin, I detoured along 20th street to show Joe & Terry the slow growth along the path of the monster tornado that devastated the area on May 22, 2011. Much of what was once the heart of Joplin can still pass for pastureland. After showing them Fred & Red's, the iconic Joplin restaurant that is now closed, we headed south to 3347 1/2 Oakridge Drive. It was there on April 13, 1933 that Bonnie & Clyde and Clyde's brother and sister-in-law, Buck and Blanche Barrow, were involved in a shootout with Joplin area law enforcement personnel. Two of the officers involved were killed, The outlaws escaped. To view pictures, then and now, of the second floor apartment where the shootout took place, go to:
http://texashideout.tripod.com/joplinapartment.html
Three things happened when we crossed the Oklahoma State line: the speed limit increased, the gas price decreased and there was an $8 toll to navigate to Oklahoma City.
West of Vinita we stopped for lunch at "The Glass House", a McDonald's that spans all four lanes of Will Rogers Turnpike. There you can watch 18-wheelers passing just below your feet as you pause your journey to grab a fast food meal. Though once billed as the "World's Largest McDonald's", a sign in the parking lot now concedes the almost 30,000 square foot restaurant is "The World's Second-Largest McDonald's". The times they are a'changin'. McDonald's in China, Russia, Florida and the London Olympics now vie for the title of "World's Largest." Though its title as largest has been usurped, I think it is safe to say this is the only McDonald's in the world where customers are greeted by a larger-than-life-size statue of Will "I Never Met a Man I Didn't Like" Rogers. Will once suggested restricting the use of highways to cars that were paid for as a way to reduce congestion. Oklahoma chose to charge tolls instead.
It was after lunch that our trip along the general vicinity of historic Route 66 took a more authentic turn. Our GPS went, directionally-speaking, belly up, and we were forced to navigate the old-fashioned way - with our brains.
We made it.
But we purchased another GPS in Oklahoma City.
Thanks to my brother for agreeing to house-sit for us as we journey westward with our Aussie kinfolk. (Note to my brother: I'm sorry you did poorly in your anger management classes but I am proud of the accolades you have since earned in mixed martial arts. Those skills should come handy with our cats.)
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| We arrive in New Mexico after a long day on the road
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Thursday, October 25, 2012
From Falling Leaves to Kewpies
Wednesday's dawn once again lit up the bright yellow leaves just outside our hotel balcony. The ground is littered with leaves that graced the limbs above when we arrived in Branson 6 mornings ago. The temperature was near 70 degrees by 8:30 am when my wife and I arrived at a secluded parking lot 9 miles north of Branson. In 1896, construction was started on a home near where we sat that would become known as "Bonniebrook." The owner was famed artist Rose O'Neill, born in 1874, but whose artwork had already made her a millionaire at the tender age of 22. Though she would eventually own 5 homes around the world, Rose declared that the best days of her life were spent at Bonniebrook, deep in the wilderness north of Branson.
In 1909, Rose drew her first kewpie doll. In 1912, a German company produced the first kewpie doll, an item that has helped spread Rose's fame far and wide for the past century. She used her wealth to provide free room and board at Bonniebrook to aspiring artists. Thomas Hart Benton was a frequent visitor.
In 1947, three years after Rose passed away, her autistic brother "Clink" burned the house to the ground. Some say it was an accident. Some say it wasn't. We were told Clink could speak 5 languages but couldn't tie his shoes. After the fire, Clink spent the rest of his life in a mental institution in Nevada, Mo.
Rose O'Neill, her mother and father, and several brothers and sisters are buried deep in the woods at Bonniebrook, next to the bubbling creek that inspired the home's name. Rose said the sound of the water running over the rocks helped inspire her artwork, as did the "friendly monsters" she saw at night in the outlines of the trees from the her third story balcony.
Rose was known to locals as eccentric, ahead of her time, an early hippie. According to the caretaker, though Rose was well-liked, local residents considered it scandalous when she went to the movies in Branson wearing flowing Bohemian dresses and open-toed sandals, or even barefoot, her toenails painted bright red.
Rose O'Neill's name became a part of my family tree when my grandfather's sister, Geneva Reece, married Rose's nephew. Rose died in Springfield on April 6, 1944 at the home of that nephew, my grandfather's brother-in-law. That home, now owned by Drury University, has just been completely renovated. According to Susan Scott, President of the Bonniebrook Historical Society, a ribbon cutting and dedication of the Rose O'Neill house will take place on Thursday, October 25, at 6:30 pm.
Susan is spearheading an effort to have a bust of Rose enshrined in the "Hall of Famous Missourians" inside the Missouri State Capitol. She is also interested in having the Kewpie doll declared the official State doll of Missouri. That should please Columbia Hickman high school alum, who chose the Kewpie doll as their school mascot.
For more information on the only one of my relatives whose house I have to pay eight bucks to get inside, go to:
www.roseoneill.org
In 1909, Rose drew her first kewpie doll. In 1912, a German company produced the first kewpie doll, an item that has helped spread Rose's fame far and wide for the past century. She used her wealth to provide free room and board at Bonniebrook to aspiring artists. Thomas Hart Benton was a frequent visitor.
In 1947, three years after Rose passed away, her autistic brother "Clink" burned the house to the ground. Some say it was an accident. Some say it wasn't. We were told Clink could speak 5 languages but couldn't tie his shoes. After the fire, Clink spent the rest of his life in a mental institution in Nevada, Mo.
Rose O'Neill, her mother and father, and several brothers and sisters are buried deep in the woods at Bonniebrook, next to the bubbling creek that inspired the home's name. Rose said the sound of the water running over the rocks helped inspire her artwork, as did the "friendly monsters" she saw at night in the outlines of the trees from the her third story balcony.
Rose was known to locals as eccentric, ahead of her time, an early hippie. According to the caretaker, though Rose was well-liked, local residents considered it scandalous when she went to the movies in Branson wearing flowing Bohemian dresses and open-toed sandals, or even barefoot, her toenails painted bright red.
Rose O'Neill's name became a part of my family tree when my grandfather's sister, Geneva Reece, married Rose's nephew. Rose died in Springfield on April 6, 1944 at the home of that nephew, my grandfather's brother-in-law. That home, now owned by Drury University, has just been completely renovated. According to Susan Scott, President of the Bonniebrook Historical Society, a ribbon cutting and dedication of the Rose O'Neill house will take place on Thursday, October 25, at 6:30 pm.
Susan is spearheading an effort to have a bust of Rose enshrined in the "Hall of Famous Missourians" inside the Missouri State Capitol. She is also interested in having the Kewpie doll declared the official State doll of Missouri. That should please Columbia Hickman high school alum, who chose the Kewpie doll as their school mascot.
For more information on the only one of my relatives whose house I have to pay eight bucks to get inside, go to:
www.roseoneill.org
Bonniebrook today, rebuilt after 1947 fire
Rose O'Neill grave in family cemetery at Bonniebrook
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
A Hero in a Hot Tub
After spending some time hiking the shores of Table Rock Lake State Park south of Branson this morning, a trip to the outside hot tub where we are staying sounded pretty good. The temperature outside was near 80 degrees on this spectacularly beautiful late October day as my wife and I eased into the bubbling 100 degree water of the hot tub. Except for one couple lounging on chaise lounges, the area was deserted. My wife kept a wary eye out for wasps circling the water as I corralled the occasional leaves that floated on the surface.
With about 3 minutes remaining on our 15 minute hot tub bubble timer, another couple joined us and put another 15 minutes on the timer.
"Where you from?" I asked.
"Arizona" replied the man.
"Really? I saw a license plate on the parking lot Monday that said "FORMER POW". I thought it might be John McCain. That wouldn't be you, would it?" I asked.
Turns out it was.
Not John McCain, but Jim Kula, former POW, and his wife, Jane. And he was willing to share his story.
On July 29, 1972, five days after his first wedding anniversary with Jane, a missile removed the tail of the F-4 Phantom John was piloting over Vietnam. He and his co-pilot ejected and were taken prisoner by the North Vietnamese when they hit the ground. They were seperated and Jim was incarcerated at the Hỏa Lò Prison, better known as the "Hanoi Hilton". Jim said he was never physically tortured, though the accomodations might suggest otherwise. Later, he said, his captors told him his co-pilot didn't survive. Turned out he did. He was also told his wife was doing some things back home that were inappropriate for a faithful wife. Turned out she wasn't.
Jim was released on March 29, 1973, eight months of his life he would never get back. He didn't dwell on that as we talked, but on the 8 YEARS some POW's were held. Jim's fellow Arizona resident John McCain was released on March 14, 1973 after serving 5 1/2 years as a POW, including two years in solitary confinement. Jim said the torture earlier POW's, including John McCain, had experienced, had received international publicity that had embarrassed the North Vietnamese and resulted in more humane treatment for later POW's like himself.
Jim and Jane were in Branson for the first time, just like Joe & Terry, our Aussie relatives traveling with us. In 2011, Joe and Terry had visited the North Vietnamese prison where Jim had been held. As we talked, more coincidences began to unfold. Jim and Jane would be in Oklahoma City Saturday night for a wedding. We would also be in Oklahoma City Saturday night on our way to the Grand Canyon for some hiking. Jim & Jane live in Prescott, 129 miles from the Grand Canyon. On their way to Missouri, Jim & Jane stopped in the tiny Oklahoma town of Bluejacket where Jane once had relatives. My wife and I visited the Bluejacket cemetery in 2009 to locate some the graves of some of my wife's relatives who had lived and died in Bluejacket. There is no longer a store in Bluejacket so residents there shop in either Miami or Vinita. My brother was born in Miami. I was born in Vinita. I expect if we had talked longer we would have discovered they were probably distant relatives.
We invited them to visit Jefferson City. It may never happen. But then again, it just might.
If you'd like to read more about Jim's experience as a POW, here are a couple of links I found while I was writing this blog:
http://journalrecord.com/tinkertakeoff/2003/09/26/brothers-recount-pow-experience/
http://militarytimes.com/citations-medals-awards/recipient.php?recipientid=27880
As we talked, the couple who had been at the hot tub when my wife and I arrived got up to leave.
"Just thought you might want to know" said the wife. "We're from Bartlesville, Oklahoma, not too far from Bluejacket." Turns out my wife and I were in Bartlesville for a family reunion last March.
The beat goes on.
With about 3 minutes remaining on our 15 minute hot tub bubble timer, another couple joined us and put another 15 minutes on the timer.
"Where you from?" I asked.
"Arizona" replied the man.
"Really? I saw a license plate on the parking lot Monday that said "FORMER POW". I thought it might be John McCain. That wouldn't be you, would it?" I asked.
Turns out it was.
Not John McCain, but Jim Kula, former POW, and his wife, Jane. And he was willing to share his story.
On July 29, 1972, five days after his first wedding anniversary with Jane, a missile removed the tail of the F-4 Phantom John was piloting over Vietnam. He and his co-pilot ejected and were taken prisoner by the North Vietnamese when they hit the ground. They were seperated and Jim was incarcerated at the Hỏa Lò Prison, better known as the "Hanoi Hilton". Jim said he was never physically tortured, though the accomodations might suggest otherwise. Later, he said, his captors told him his co-pilot didn't survive. Turned out he did. He was also told his wife was doing some things back home that were inappropriate for a faithful wife. Turned out she wasn't.
Jim was released on March 29, 1973, eight months of his life he would never get back. He didn't dwell on that as we talked, but on the 8 YEARS some POW's were held. Jim's fellow Arizona resident John McCain was released on March 14, 1973 after serving 5 1/2 years as a POW, including two years in solitary confinement. Jim said the torture earlier POW's, including John McCain, had experienced, had received international publicity that had embarrassed the North Vietnamese and resulted in more humane treatment for later POW's like himself.
Jim and Jane were in Branson for the first time, just like Joe & Terry, our Aussie relatives traveling with us. In 2011, Joe and Terry had visited the North Vietnamese prison where Jim had been held. As we talked, more coincidences began to unfold. Jim and Jane would be in Oklahoma City Saturday night for a wedding. We would also be in Oklahoma City Saturday night on our way to the Grand Canyon for some hiking. Jim & Jane live in Prescott, 129 miles from the Grand Canyon. On their way to Missouri, Jim & Jane stopped in the tiny Oklahoma town of Bluejacket where Jane once had relatives. My wife and I visited the Bluejacket cemetery in 2009 to locate some the graves of some of my wife's relatives who had lived and died in Bluejacket. There is no longer a store in Bluejacket so residents there shop in either Miami or Vinita. My brother was born in Miami. I was born in Vinita. I expect if we had talked longer we would have discovered they were probably distant relatives.
We invited them to visit Jefferson City. It may never happen. But then again, it just might.
If you'd like to read more about Jim's experience as a POW, here are a couple of links I found while I was writing this blog:
http://journalrecord.com/tinkertakeoff/2003/09/26/brothers-recount-pow-experience/
http://militarytimes.com/citations-medals-awards/recipient.php?recipientid=27880
As we talked, the couple who had been at the hot tub when my wife and I arrived got up to leave.
"Just thought you might want to know" said the wife. "We're from Bartlesville, Oklahoma, not too far from Bluejacket." Turns out my wife and I were in Bartlesville for a family reunion last March.
The beat goes on.
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| Prisoner of War Medal awarded to Jim Kula |
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
A Branson Stairstepper Workout Mother Nature's Style
The only hiking most people are aware of on Branson's 76 Highway strip is that from their car to shopping, eating or show-hopping. But if you are so inclined, you can get a great workout just a stone's throw from Dick Clark's American Bandstand Theater.
The entrance to the Lakeside Forest Wilderness area is 100 yards south of 76 Highway on Fall Creek Road. If you are looking for Mother Nature's version of a stair-stepper workout you can find it there.
For those interested in just a "walk in the woods", there is 1.3 mile ridgetop trail described as "moderately easy". If you are game for a more difficult workout, you can find that on the 2.0 mile roundtrip hike (it seems MUCH longer) that descends a bluff overlooking Lake Taneycomo and then proceeds along a narrow ridge to several caves halfway down the bluff. That's the trail we chose.
After a pleasant, level walk of several hundred yards through a typical Ozark forest, the trail suddenly begins a sharper descent toward Lake Taneycomo. Then the bottom falls out and hikers are confronted with a 315 step staircase hewn into the side of the mountain. A plaque with the heading "THE FOLLOWING WORDS ETCHED IN STONE, AUGUST 10, 1938" is mounted there beside the trail. It reads:
"LET THOSE WHO TREAD HERE NOT THINK THAT THESE STEPS WERE MADE NOT OF MORTAR ALONE BUT OF SWEAT AND BLOOD AND AGONY."
BEGAN AUGUST 5, 1937 - FINISHED AUGUST 10, 1938
Seems like there is one to many "NOT's" in there, but what the builders lacked in grammar, they made up for in the sheer determination it took to complete the stunning rock staircase that descends from breathtaking beauty to a (literally) breathtaking climb. By the time you reach the top again, you will have just a taste of the sweat (a lot), blood (a little, thanks to a stray strand of barbed wire), and the agony (tempered by the ecstasy of the scenic beauty) that the builders spoke of.
Joe, Terry and I made the descent while my wife, with three knee surgeries in her not-too-distant past, walked the level ridgetop trail and then waited for us at a picnic table with her trusty Kindle.
By the time we returned from our 90 minute excursion with a climb of 315 steps (each way) behind us, I was drenched in sweat. Maybe that's why the insects chose to attack Joe instead of me. Walking in front, Joe suddenly began waving his arms above his head. "I think the mossies (mosquitoes) are getting me!" he said. Must run in the family. Joe is my wife's cousin and mosquitoes consistently choose her blood over mine when they are hungry.
Personally, I don't think they were "mossies". I think they were an annoying, but harmless, breed of insect known in the Ozarks as "DPG's" (dog pecker gnats).
If you go, take a bottle of water, wear shoes not prone to slipping, and take along some insect repellent to discourage the mossies & dpg's. Also the ticks and chiggers. It is the Ozarks, you know. There is no entry charge to the Lakeside Forest Wilderness Area.
The entrance to the Lakeside Forest Wilderness area is 100 yards south of 76 Highway on Fall Creek Road. If you are looking for Mother Nature's version of a stair-stepper workout you can find it there.
For those interested in just a "walk in the woods", there is 1.3 mile ridgetop trail described as "moderately easy". If you are game for a more difficult workout, you can find that on the 2.0 mile roundtrip hike (it seems MUCH longer) that descends a bluff overlooking Lake Taneycomo and then proceeds along a narrow ridge to several caves halfway down the bluff. That's the trail we chose.
After a pleasant, level walk of several hundred yards through a typical Ozark forest, the trail suddenly begins a sharper descent toward Lake Taneycomo. Then the bottom falls out and hikers are confronted with a 315 step staircase hewn into the side of the mountain. A plaque with the heading "THE FOLLOWING WORDS ETCHED IN STONE, AUGUST 10, 1938" is mounted there beside the trail. It reads:
"LET THOSE WHO TREAD HERE NOT THINK THAT THESE STEPS WERE MADE NOT OF MORTAR ALONE BUT OF SWEAT AND BLOOD AND AGONY."
BEGAN AUGUST 5, 1937 - FINISHED AUGUST 10, 1938
Seems like there is one to many "NOT's" in there, but what the builders lacked in grammar, they made up for in the sheer determination it took to complete the stunning rock staircase that descends from breathtaking beauty to a (literally) breathtaking climb. By the time you reach the top again, you will have just a taste of the sweat (a lot), blood (a little, thanks to a stray strand of barbed wire), and the agony (tempered by the ecstasy of the scenic beauty) that the builders spoke of.
Joe, Terry and I made the descent while my wife, with three knee surgeries in her not-too-distant past, walked the level ridgetop trail and then waited for us at a picnic table with her trusty Kindle.
By the time we returned from our 90 minute excursion with a climb of 315 steps (each way) behind us, I was drenched in sweat. Maybe that's why the insects chose to attack Joe instead of me. Walking in front, Joe suddenly began waving his arms above his head. "I think the mossies (mosquitoes) are getting me!" he said. Must run in the family. Joe is my wife's cousin and mosquitoes consistently choose her blood over mine when they are hungry.
Personally, I don't think they were "mossies". I think they were an annoying, but harmless, breed of insect known in the Ozarks as "DPG's" (dog pecker gnats).
Monday, October 22, 2012
Choosing a Chariot to Carry You Home
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| Gary Presley and son Eric, front and center (better known as Herkimer and Cecil)
As I type these words I am sitting on a hotel balcony in Branson, Mo., courtesy of Joe and Terry, my globetrotting, timeshare-owning Australian kin. The setting sun is coloring two thin rows of clouds a brilliant pink as it dips below the treeline in the west. Red sky at night, sailor's delight. Pink sky at night? Don't know about that sailor, but there are definitely no complaints from me as the sun disappears on this almost achingly beautiful fall day.
As I walked around the parking lot earlier today it seems every State and Canada has sent a delegation to Branson this weekend. And that's not counting our car which could and should sport an "AUSSIES ON BOARD" bumper sticker. Three cars from Ontario joined cars from New Hampshire, Virginia, Florida, Iowa, Nebraska, Colorado, Texas, Illinois, Arkansas, Oklahoma, Texas, Tennessee, South Dakota, Wisconsin, Minnesota, Indiana, Louisiana, Michigan, Ohio and Kansas. A car from Arizona bore a license plate that said "FORMER POW". If John McCain is missing I think I may know where he is. Heck, there was even a sprinkling of cars with Missouri plates on the lot.
On Friday night we introduced Joe & Terry to Branson's own Herkimer and Cecil at Presley's Country Jubilee. Paul Harvey referred to the Presley's as "Founders of Branson's entertainment phenomenon." Gary Presley graduated from Springfield's Hillcrest High School a year ahead of me. His wife Patty was my age and had the misfortune to sit in front of me in algebra.
A crowd of predominantly senior citizens packed Presley's Theater on Friday. Bumper-to-bumper traffic filled the streets in all directions as we navigated the short distance from our hotel to the theater. Once inside I purchased some glazed almonds and pecans for Joe & Terry to sample and we headed to our seats. They had traveled 9500 miles to see the show. I figured the least I could do was spring for some nuts. As we waited, busloads of senior citizens from as far away as the east coast filed in and filled the seats in front of us. One of the first songs the Presley's performed Saturday evening was "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot (comin' for to carry me home)." Later, as Gary played "Wipe Out" on his electric guitar, an old guy on the third row had a medical emergency and was taken from the theater. As he left I wondered if the chariot really HAD come for him.
After the show I introduced cousins Joe and Terry to Gary Presley. In 1967, my Dad sold Gary a Volkswagon to drive back and forth from his day job in Springfield to his night job entertaining ever-growing crowds in the then-brand new Presley Theater on Highway 76, the first theater on what is now "the Branson Strip". Whenever I see Gary he always asks about my dad and mentions the VW he purchased brand new from him for a whopping $2000 in 1967. This time a big smile came to his face as he mentioned that VW. "I just bought another red 1967 VW just like your dad sold me!" he said.
Good for him!
That "other chariot" will get here soon enough for the Classes of '65 and '66. 
1967 VW Beetle
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Sunday, October 14, 2012
A Bit of Heaven Beneath a Sport Bra
A warm October wind scattered leaves across the Hy-Vee parking lot as I walked briskly in search of caffeine this morning. I slowed as I neared the automatic doors to let a twenty-something female enter ahead of me. I was immediately reminded what an amazing material spandex is as I followed her through the door and into the line at Starbucks.
As I glanced over her shoulder to see what type of coffee was brewing, I made an intriguing discovery. (Note: I am a firm believer that Yogi Berra was right when he said “You can observe a lot just by watching.“) Tattooed between her shoulders was "Proverbs 2?: 5-6. It wasn't actually 2?. Part of the tattoo was obscured by the “X” of her sport bra strap. As I waited for the first person first in line to finish her very detailed instructions of exactly what she wanted in her “skinny latte”, two questions crossed my mind:
1. Isn’t “skinny latte” an oxymoron? and
2. I wonder what scripture was important enough for this woman to have it tattooed on her back?
Finally my curiosity got the better of me. “Excuse me, I was just wondering what verse in Proverbs you have tattooed on your back.” Smiling, she moved her bra strap to one side so I could see: Proverbs 27: 5-6.
“Faithful are the wounds of a friend. Bitter are the kisses of an enemy” she quoted. An unusual but insightful tattoo choice. I was hoping she might share the story that motivated her to have it tattooed on her back-side, but just then she got her order. With a beverage in each hand she turned, smiled, and left the building.
I am a fan of the book of Proverbs. Even more so now. Divided into 31 chapters, it’s possible to easily glean some nuggets of wisdom by reading one chapter each morning while drinking a skinny latte or whatever else kick starts your brain.
Some of my favorite verses from the book of Proverbs are:
26:17 - Getting involved in an argument that is none of your business is like going down the street and grabbing a dog by the ears.
26:20 - Without wood, a fire goes out; without gossip, quarreling stops.
4:23 - Be careful how you think. Your life is shaped by your thoughts.
11:25 - Be generous and you will be prosperous. Help others and you will be helped.
But if I was going to choose one verse to have tattooed on my backside, it would be Proverbs 14:4:
“An empty stable stays clean, but much increase comes by the strength of an ox.” (Loose interpretation according to me: You can accomplish more if you are willing to deal with a lot of BS. Or OS.) I have found that bit of wisdom especially pertinent in my life.
Proverbs 4:7 in the Good News Bible says “Getting wisdom is the most important thing you can do.”
Even if it’s partially concealed under a bra strap.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Boldly Going (and eating) Where No Man Has Gone Before
Neil Armstrong, first man to walk on the moon, died on August 25, 2012. Mr. Armstrong, who was known as "a test pilot's test pilot", took the ride of his life as Commander of Apollo 11 which touched down on the moon on July 20, 1969. I remember where I was. Do you?
As the nation mourned the loss of this hero, a man who had cheated death many times, his family made the following statement:
"For those who may ask what they can do to honor Neil, we have a simple request. Honor his example of service, accomplishment and modesty, and the next time you walk outside on a clear night and see the moon smiling down at you, think of Neil Armstrong and give him a wink."
Will do.
Felix Baumgartner
Another daredevil, Felix Baumgartner, was thwarted by high winds on Tuesday in his attempt to take "one small step for a man, one humongous leap for the same man." Felix had planned to be lifted 120,000 feet above New Mexico by a helium balloon and then jump out of it. On October 14, 1947 Chuck Yeager became the first person to break the sound barrier. He was in an experimental Bell X-1 aircraft at the time. Mr. Baumgartner’s plan is to also break the speed of sound, just without a plane. Medical experts say one risk of Felix's jump is the potential for ebullism. If this happens, Mr. Baumgartner's blood will first turn to gas and then begin to boil. If that unfortunate event should occur, perhaps his family will request that "the next time you boil water, think of Felix and give him a wink."
In the area of risky behavior, Edward Archbold was known as "a bit of a show-off", "the life of the party", and "up for anything." Perhaps that's why he decided to compete in a Florida cockroach eating contest last Friday. I believe that would fall under the "up for anything" category. The good news is that Edward won. The bad news is that he died shortly after. Police are investigating whether it was the cockroaches that got him or the superworm eating contest in which he competed BEFORE the cockroach eating contest that got him. Babe Ruth was once rushed to the hospital with severe abdominal pain after he consumed 8 hot dogs and an apple between innings of a game. "I think it was the apple that did it" Babe said later.
An attorney for Ben Siegel Reptiles, the business that sponsored the contest, issued the following statement: "The consumption of insects is widely accepted throughout the world, and the insects presented as part of the contest were taken from an inventory of insects that are safely and domestically raised . . ." Ben Siegel Reptile's Facebook page offered the following condolence: "All of here at Ben Seigel Reptiles are sad that we will not get to know Eddie better, for in the short time we knew him, he was very well liked by all." I think it would have been a nice touch if they had added "The next time you eat a cockroach (or superworm), think of Eddie and give him a wink." Personally, it seems ironic to me that Eddie possibly became worm food by eating worms for food.
You'd never do anything foolish like eat a cockroach, you say? Even a “domestically raised cockroach? Yeah, me too, But that was before my wife called my attention to a news report that Stir Fry 88, a place we have occasionally dined, and Famous Cajun Grill (been there, too), both in the Columbia Mall food court, were just shut down. Mexico, Mo. resident Summer Harding complained to the Columbia Health Dept that her daughter found a cockroach in the Strawberry Chicken she ordered from Stir Fry 88. Mistakes happen. She obviously received Cashew Cockroach instead of Strawberry Chicken.
Which sounds like a dish Eddie Archbold would have loved.
The Late Eddie Archbold Wearing a
strangely prophetic t-shirt.
As the nation mourned the loss of this hero, a man who had cheated death many times, his family made the following statement:
"For those who may ask what they can do to honor Neil, we have a simple request. Honor his example of service, accomplishment and modesty, and the next time you walk outside on a clear night and see the moon smiling down at you, think of Neil Armstrong and give him a wink."
Will do.
Felix Baumgartner
In the area of risky behavior, Edward Archbold was known as "a bit of a show-off", "the life of the party", and "up for anything." Perhaps that's why he decided to compete in a Florida cockroach eating contest last Friday. I believe that would fall under the "up for anything" category. The good news is that Edward won. The bad news is that he died shortly after. Police are investigating whether it was the cockroaches that got him or the superworm eating contest in which he competed BEFORE the cockroach eating contest that got him. Babe Ruth was once rushed to the hospital with severe abdominal pain after he consumed 8 hot dogs and an apple between innings of a game. "I think it was the apple that did it" Babe said later.
An attorney for Ben Siegel Reptiles, the business that sponsored the contest, issued the following statement: "The consumption of insects is widely accepted throughout the world, and the insects presented as part of the contest were taken from an inventory of insects that are safely and domestically raised . . ." Ben Siegel Reptile's Facebook page offered the following condolence: "All of here at Ben Seigel Reptiles are sad that we will not get to know Eddie better, for in the short time we knew him, he was very well liked by all." I think it would have been a nice touch if they had added "The next time you eat a cockroach (or superworm), think of Eddie and give him a wink." Personally, it seems ironic to me that Eddie possibly became worm food by eating worms for food.
You'd never do anything foolish like eat a cockroach, you say? Even a “domestically raised cockroach? Yeah, me too, But that was before my wife called my attention to a news report that Stir Fry 88, a place we have occasionally dined, and Famous Cajun Grill (been there, too), both in the Columbia Mall food court, were just shut down. Mexico, Mo. resident Summer Harding complained to the Columbia Health Dept that her daughter found a cockroach in the Strawberry Chicken she ordered from Stir Fry 88. Mistakes happen. She obviously received Cashew Cockroach instead of Strawberry Chicken.
Which sounds like a dish Eddie Archbold would have loved.
The Late Eddie Archbold Wearing a
strangely prophetic t-shirt.
Friday, October 5, 2012
Winter Storm Names - Khan You Dig it?
The Weather Channel has announced a plan to give parity to winter storms by naming them just like the National Weather Service does for hurricanes and tropical storms. They have chosen to name the storms mainly after mythic Greek gods, though if we make it to "K" (God forbid!), the name selected is Khan, as in Genghis Khan. Mr. Khan was a Mongolian conqueror and emperor of the Mongol empire. It is estimated that 16 million men throughout Asia carry a Y-chromosome indicating they are descended from him. When Mr. Khan wasn't fighting, it seems he spent most of his leisure time doing the horizontal mambo.
Well, I have a suggestion. Instead of mythical characters, why not name the storms after all-too-real winter medical conditions? I will forever associate our 2011 Groundhog Day blizzard with the bronchitis I got as a souvenir from the 20-inch snowfall I spent hours trying to remove from our driveway.
Here is The Weather Channel list of names followed by my suggestions:
A - Athena - Greek goddess of wisdom, courage, inspiration, justice, math and all things wonderful.
B - Brutus - Roman Senator and assassin of Julius Caesar
C - Caesar
D - Draco (Athenian legislator)
E - Euclid - Greek mathematician, father of geometry
F - Freyr - Norse god associated with fair weather
G - Gandolf - character in a 1896 fantasy novel
H - Helen (Helen of Troy, daughter of Zeus)
I - Iago (Enemy of Othello in Shakespearean play)
J - Jove (English name for Jupiter, Roman god of light and sky)
K - Khan (Mongolian conqueror who originated phrase “Who’s your daddy?”)
L - Luna (divine embodiment of the moon in Roman mythology)
M - Magnus - European name for Charlemagne the Great, Carolus Magnus
N - Nemo (means “nobody” in Latin; means big bucks in animated movies about an abducted fish)
O - Orko, thunder god in Basque mythology
P - Plato, Greek philosopher and mathematician
Q - Q, as in the Broadway Express subway line in New York City
R - Rocky, a single mountain in the Rockies.
S - Saturn, Roman god of time and namesake of planet Saturn
T - Triton, messenger of the deep sea, son of Poseidon
U - Ukko - Finnish god of the sky and weather
V - Virgil, Ancient Roman poet
W - Walda, German name meaning “ruler”
X - Xerxes - 4th king of the Persian Achaemenid Empire, Xerxes the Great
Y - Yogi, people who do yoga.
Z - Zeus - Mythical Greek supreme ruler of Mount Olympus
Note - Four of these names are found on the menu at Arris Pizza.
Now for my suggestions - not quite as high-falutin’, but I don’t think anyone will need an explanation, like they might with Ukko and Walda. All are associated with winter ailments and much more identifiable to the average person than Freyr or Euclid.
A - Achy
B - Bronchitis
C - Cough
D - Dizzy
E - Emergency Room
F - Fever
G - Guisendheidt
H - Headache
I - Infection
J - Joint pain
K - Kleenex
L - Laryngitis
M - Mucous
N - Nauseous
O - Oops (usually associated with winter storm “Trots“)
P - Pneumonia
Q - Queasy
R - Rash
S - Snot
T - Trots (see “oops”)
U - Urgent Care
V - Vomit
W - Whooping cough
X - X-ray
Y - Yuck
Z - Zombie
Many thanks to my wife for her assistance with this blog. Although the temperature has not yet dipped below freezing, she has experienced 22 of the 26 items on my list just since Labor Day. Don’t worry trots, oops, vomit and rash - I’m sure she’ll get around to you before we move the clocks forward next Spring.
Maybe even before we move them back this fall.
| Genghis Khan |
Here is The Weather Channel list of names followed by my suggestions:
A - Athena - Greek goddess of wisdom, courage, inspiration, justice, math and all things wonderful.
B - Brutus - Roman Senator and assassin of Julius Caesar
C - Caesar
D - Draco (Athenian legislator)
E - Euclid - Greek mathematician, father of geometry
F - Freyr - Norse god associated with fair weather
G - Gandolf - character in a 1896 fantasy novel
H - Helen (Helen of Troy, daughter of Zeus)
I - Iago (Enemy of Othello in Shakespearean play)
J - Jove (English name for Jupiter, Roman god of light and sky)
K - Khan (Mongolian conqueror who originated phrase “Who’s your daddy?”)
L - Luna (divine embodiment of the moon in Roman mythology)
M - Magnus - European name for Charlemagne the Great, Carolus Magnus
N - Nemo (means “nobody” in Latin; means big bucks in animated movies about an abducted fish)
O - Orko, thunder god in Basque mythology
P - Plato, Greek philosopher and mathematician
Q - Q, as in the Broadway Express subway line in New York City
R - Rocky, a single mountain in the Rockies.
S - Saturn, Roman god of time and namesake of planet Saturn
T - Triton, messenger of the deep sea, son of Poseidon
U - Ukko - Finnish god of the sky and weather
V - Virgil, Ancient Roman poet
W - Walda, German name meaning “ruler”
X - Xerxes - 4th king of the Persian Achaemenid Empire, Xerxes the Great
Y - Yogi, people who do yoga.
Z - Zeus - Mythical Greek supreme ruler of Mount Olympus
Note - Four of these names are found on the menu at Arris Pizza.
Now for my suggestions - not quite as high-falutin’, but I don’t think anyone will need an explanation, like they might with Ukko and Walda. All are associated with winter ailments and much more identifiable to the average person than Freyr or Euclid.
A - Achy
B - Bronchitis
C - Cough
D - Dizzy
E - Emergency Room
F - Fever
G - Guisendheidt
H - Headache
I - Infection
J - Joint pain
K - Kleenex
L - Laryngitis
M - Mucous
N - Nauseous
O - Oops (usually associated with winter storm “Trots“)
P - Pneumonia
Q - Queasy
R - Rash
S - Snot
T - Trots (see “oops”)
U - Urgent Care
V - Vomit
W - Whooping cough
X - X-ray
Y - Yuck
Z - Zombie
Many thanks to my wife for her assistance with this blog. Although the temperature has not yet dipped below freezing, she has experienced 22 of the 26 items on my list just since Labor Day. Don’t worry trots, oops, vomit and rash - I’m sure she’ll get around to you before we move the clocks forward next Spring.
Maybe even before we move them back this fall.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Current Forck Farm Report: Bone Dry and Broke Down
Could be.
Shortly before 1 pm on Tuesday I picked up my grandson and we headed for the bottom land near Cole Junction where the Forck farm is located. When we arrived, giant pieces of machinery were parked around a grain bin and a tractor shed but not a soul was to be found. My grandson and I entertained ourselves observing the machinery as I showed him the corn that had already been harvested and the soybeans still awaiting harvest.
Finally, I gave PeeWee a call. The news was not good. No combine ride was on the docket because they were "broke down". Before long PeeWee's son, Kelly, arrived with a welder, an acetylene torch, and the largest wrench I've ever seen. Wasting no time, the welder fired up his torch and Kelly stood by with a giant wrench. After watching for awhile, I decided Gavin and I had best let Kelly and the welder work undisturbed so we left. It's been a rough year for farmers, what with drought and breakdown. A ride in the combine could wait for another day. After all, Gavin is only 4. A career decision can wait a few more days. We went to the next important item on our to-do list: get an ice cream cone.
And then to the third: make a jack-o-lantern.
Thanks for the offer, PeeWee. We will take a rain check on the combine ride. Farming is a tough business. John F. Kennedy once said “The farmer is the only man in our economy who buys everything at retail, sells everything at wholesale, and pays the freight both ways." My own personal experience is that farmers, not necessarily by choice, must have a strong work ethic. Edgar Watson Howe noted that "Even if a farmer intends to loaf, he gets up in time to get an early start." And Bill Bryson once said "There are only three things that can kill a farmer: lightning, rolling over in a tractor, and old age." That list may seem abbreviated until you consider that, what with all the challenges associated with farming, farmers sometimes get old at a pretty early age.
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