Happy Birthday Rose and Juan, both born on this day. In this photo you see them on our recent camp out. With the low water Juan hunts arrowheads, petrified wood and lost fishing lures. Rose carries refreshment.
Also happy birthday to brother in law John.
My Granny Wallace was born on Halloween in 1910.
In 1988 I asked Cathy to marry me on Halloween
Labels: family, Happy birthday
Rain is pouring here with tornados in the area. I'm sitting it out.
Here's a photo, made a couple of days ago at sundown of an elk in the game pasture next door. It's a little scruffy looking and has radioactive eyes. My eyes glow like this sometimes, when the moon is right, the tide is in or if I am standing down by the crossroads with a guitar.
Angelina College Division of Fine Arts Concert...
Attended the local Jr. College Band concert, here's the Jazz Band in action.
The no flash policy played a little heck with the focus, but I'm a grown up now, I play by the rules, durn it.
The Chamber Ensemble, with Miguel far right on flute. Someone asked him, "how did you get into chamber music?" His reply was "How do you get out of it?"
That blob between the sax and clarinet player is a stain on the curtain, I wanted it to be the ghost of an old auditorium janitor, but it's not an old auditorium.
The Community band, very good several cute numbers. Mostly an experienced crew, one I was in high school band with, one from my old college band and a guy that was in band with my Uncle Bill.
All in all a fine evening of fun, lots of musicians I knew on stage and many more I knew in attendance to see a fine evening of music.
Labels: band, music, tuba
Big Boy at the Video Store Thinks I'm a Doc...
Lot of folks have been curious about my encounters with the Big Boy that works the local video (a faltering institution, line up at Red Box you cows) store. If you remember my last post, he was suspecting I was a college professor. Seems he sighted me in my hospital scrubs somewhere and now thinks I'm a doctor. He knows I'm something, and I will confess as seen in this picture I am a doctor of catfishing. Our latest meeting of minds went something like this:
I'm standing at the counter and Big Boy announces to the store "We have a doctor in the house." Heads turn everywhere. I only triage the patients who can pay cash money or have micro livestock, non-perishable food items and gently used household goods to trade. I don't want to mess up Obama's chances at health care reform by running some kind of medicare swindle on the federal dime and I sure will not file on any one's insurance card because that is like horning in on Mafia territory. When the treatment line thins down I take my movie to the counter.
Big Boy says "I been watching those movies you rent, trying to up my I.Q." This gives me pause for thought, I don't know if anything like this is even possible.
"That Viking movie," he continues, " you were all wrong about that one, it was bad." This is quite the coincidence, a comment like this since I have recently been in deep study on the subject of narcissism, which when applied to this situation can be summed up as the fact that he sees no reason to disbelieve that all his movie choices and opinions are anything less than awesome. I am really sorry that the Viking movie has been a set back to him but I have learned you really can't discuss these things with a narcissist, you just have to deal with them and the way I try to deal with Big Boy is explain what kind of health care worker I am.
After I explain, he's sitting in a low chair, hands on belly hanging between his knees and he says, "Good maybe you can tell me how I can lose 20-30 pounds, I been eating at Subway (it's located right next door) four or five times a day and it's not helping."
I say, "Well since that's the case I suspect that's a baby in there and you need to see my wife the L & D nurse."
By the way, that's not Big Boy behind me in the catfish picture. I don't have a photo of him yet.
...I only slept with the guy one time...
...and on the next bromantic get away he had his old fingers all over my bass guitar. Who ever said breaking up was hard to do had some keen insight into human relationships, rock bands and borrowed guitars.
Mary recently borrowed my old skint and worn acoustic guitar and took it back to school with her. Hope it's as good a friend to her as it has been to me. Sitting around a camp fire under tall pine trees with friends and family is as good a way to cut your chops as can be found anywhere. Next thing you know it's up on the risers, idiot
/saviour/savant/clown/hero with a five piece band looking at your backside and large closed back Fender speaker cabinets blowing up your big (man am I ever glad those came back in style) legged jeans.
Rose, Mary and Cathy work out the tunes.
Labels: bromance, electric guitar, family
Got camp set up at the lake this weekend. Here's Pop, Geneva and Cathy girding their loins to make an assault on the catfish population. The tent is where me and Cathy are sleeping, maybe when we grow up we will be in a big trailer. Sunrise over Big Sam. That's our boat at the shore, in the background you see another boat that's been on that spot each morning, which some of you readers may remember as the location of some very hot white bass action about 20-25 years ago. If Cathy gets tired of catching catfish I'll ask permission to fish there. Pop and Geneva have racked up some personal bests this trip. I think they have caught more fish that ever. Here they are with a double, Pop's fish being the biggest he has caught on a trip with us. Fishing was spotty this morning, a tough east wind, only managing this big one a bunch of dinks. Saturday was better, 40 cats to 3lbs, a bunch of throw backs and a big fish fry with us four, Juan and Rose, Mary and Miguel in attendance. Some cats went to the freezer, Pop and Geneva are embarking on a long trailer trip, need supplies, a bunch were fried for family visiting and today I had left over grilled fish tacos swimming in my belly. I am at the house because I must work tomorrow and will rejoin them for one more overnight in the afternoon.
Labels: family, pontoon, swimming in my belly
Looks like a nice fall weekend coming and the acorn crop on the trees along the game fence next door looking good this year with big green fatties falling thick on the ground. This little six point has been there to get fat scooping them up. He was a little jumpy as I made his picture, but after I backed off he came right back up to eat. I guess the elk in the background don't eat acorns.
One morning this week it was spooky foggy and there were three does eating along the fence as I left for work. Pretty sight against the fog back drop, too bad I did not have my camera handy.
Maybe I Should Have Called This Post...
More Trooper Graduation...
Juan's Trooper graduation was held at a venue outside Austin call the River Bend Centre. Here's a shot of the stage with dignitaries during the opening flag ceremony. It's some kind of big church, denomination uncertain by me, large campus of buildings with all windows facing spectacular Hill Country views with this chamber pictured sitting 5000-10,000 my best guess.
Just down the hill the Colorado River winds peacefully past. This scene caused my imagination to get a bit carried away. I could just see myself descending from the mezzanine where I sat to the stage from whence I was carried or escorted by men in suits and hats, flags leading and glory waving down the steep incline, every one's hands out to make sure I would not stumble. At the river side I would wade out cloaked in flowing white garments that no one had any way of knowing would float up around my waist in the clear green Texas spring water reveling naked skin. Like I say, this was in my imagination, I have already been baptized and there is a whole lot of "I" in that last sentence. This was Juan's day and I am bet that he was glad I revealed no naked skin.
By the way, did I mention the trumpet that played while I was doing all this ? That part really happened.
The Color Guard was very snappy, may be the best I have ever seen.
Got These in the Mail...
Got my Taekwondo Certificates from the 2009 competition year in the mail last week. This one is a certificate of competitive achievement, 9th in the world for forms, American Taekwondo Association, 50-59 age class. It's for the World Tournament held last June in Little Rock where I competed but did not place in the top three. Points gathered for the year at other tournaments placed me in the 9th spot. With my placing now all of us, Cathy, Mary, Me and Morgan have competed in the Top Ten big show one year or the other over the last 10 years since we began this sport with Morgan doing the best, a second place one year. Cathy did well one year qualifying in both forms and sparing. I also hauled in Texas State Champ for the second year in a row, no tournament competition for this, but just the competitor in each state with the most tournament points each year.
I am not the best and it's doubtful I will ever make world champ, but I am proud to be able to perform at a level that is competitive at national and world events. That's a credit to the instruction received at our school, click the link on the web page side bar for more info. There were also two more from our school to compete Top Ten and make state champs. Sad to say, I won't be state champ this year. New Tournament year began in June and for one reason or another I have been busy with other things with higher priority. There is an up coming regional tournament in Dallas in November and in January or February there is a new national event, held in L.A last year and rotated to Dallas this year for black belts only with the big Las Vegas tournament to follow soon after. Could be a dark horse...
Under a Mushroom Cloud...
So you remember that? Most of you are like me, full, spitting up middle age angst, still tortured by thoughts that we would be safe if we did as instructed and hid under our desks at school (treachery, they always hit while we are busy) in case of atomic attack. I don't really recall all that, a little too young. I do know from a quick thumbing of my Texas Field Guide to Mushrooms that does not help me identify this fine fall specimen I found in my yard this morning but seems to indicate a family that if eaten would make me wish a bomb would go off to relieve me from it's toxic effects.
You do know that nuclear strategy is a science, studied and practiced in the 1940s, 50s, 60s, 70s by skinny unnamed men in suits with cold eye glass frames. The falling of the Wall did nothing to retire this profession. Only difference now is that the men are fat, unaware that they have become too slow and gouty on a diet of organ meats (brain salad, kidney pie, spleen soup and fried liver, we are back to toxic effects) to lumber to the safe hidden bunker. So they stay above ground heavy lidded eyes barely open, "we are interested in stability" they say to newcomers to their grand game.
So if you had to sit across the table from these men, disgusting, both their science and their choice of snacks what would you do? Pull out iphones, twitter, "Hiroshima, Nagasaki, no reply, Tokyo still intact?"
Regular readers here know I am a sucker for tuba music, even to the point I will play it myself if no one else will. Same with photos, here let me hold that tuba while you make my picture. I did not have to do that on my most recent visit to the campus of Texas A&M where there were quite a few folks holding tubas.
May be I can make those manure spreaders feel a little better after the loss to Arkansas yesterday at the new Dallas Cowboy Stadium by putting these pictures up of the tuba section in all their glory. Kind of a contrast, a simple line of tubas, marching military style and a big huge mall like entertainment complex. Rumor has it the scoreboard/TV screen is low, did the tubas pass under OK? Did some kind of ugly music deemed necessary to inspire the average Joe to consume more of advertised products drowned out some fine college band performances?
Maybe it's just the old subversive rearing his head, thinking that a few more tubas and a little less false grandeur and the associated cost might lead to. well who knows what, a health care bill, a cure for disease, poverty, an end to war and who knows what. Might be stretching it a bit tonight, I don't know. I do know that my old horn was made in 1936, apparently a fine year for tuba construction as it still does the job after all these years. May be like the Aggie football team, I am just happy with some consistency.
Labels: manure spreaders, subversive, tuba
"...I know I've seen that face before," Big Jim was thinking to himself
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Cathy's favorite band. They named this blog.
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