LDKBox

It is Sunday and it is beautiful outside with clouds in the air and  a gentle breeze blowing across the sage and sand of central Texas.  It is one of those days that an old fart like me likes to think of as a good day to do nothing.  To nice to work.  So I have set my sites on the bed in my bedroom while poor little Kellen is stuck inside because there aren’t any friends available to play with outside.  He approached me in my bedroom as I was watching the latest tennis tournament on TV.

“I am bored.” He was not starting out on a good note with that comment.  Personal pet peeve of mine.  I answered, “Well, I like to think of the times that I am alone to be a time spent with someone that is my best friend.  I never(remember I am old)seemed to be bored when I am alone any more.  I do remember the times when it had crossed my lips when I was younger but thanks to the help of my older brother I did not make the mistake of saying it in front of my parents.  Unfortunately Karl did nake mention of being bored and our Father definitely taught young Karl the error of his ways by directing him to proceed post haste into the pasture and collect all the pretty flowers of the dratted weed… the thistle.  It is wonderful little flower that gives new meaning to the saying don’t bite the hand that feeds you.  Poor Karl suffered for a few minutes in the pasture until he was scathed from head to foot.  I cannot remember how many flowers he actually did pick and place in a bag.  No matter… the lesson was a strong one that was learned the first time.

Poor Kellen does not have the aide of an older brother to lead  him through the problems of  young boy as I had had.  His brother spends  a lot of time teasing young Kellen.  It is fun for Kellen but it does not teach him anything other than the fact that his brother is older, smarter, and bigger.  I think that I have tried to convey this same kind of education with my young son, Kellen.  Fortunately… or unfortunatley… he has not made the same immediate grasp of the dire situation that he is in by stating to his father that he is bored.  Remember I am happy to be breathing and laying in a bed.  Boredom only comes to mind when I have nothing to do.  Since Kellen is at my side I really can never say that I do not have nothing to do.  Consequently I want Kellen to understand that the only reason  he is bored is because he chooses.

I hope that Kellen is not as hard headed as his father.  It took me a childhood, three marriages, and cancer to come to an understanding about being bored.  Please young son…don’t do as I did …. do as I say.  Yeah… right…?  I can see some head butting in my future.  I am excited!!

Comments (0) May 24 2010

On Sunday morning I was returning from a bass fishing trip in Decautor, Texas with friends that my wife and I had made when we last had a cruise out of Galveston, Texas in July of last year.  I had a great time.  I  enjoyed the banter amoung the camping fisherman. The eternal campfire was tended with respect and joy as it provided light, warmth, and sustenance for all who gathered around its inviting smokey glow.  It cooked up beans, bacon, onions, and chicken to suffice us until the bountiful harvest of the lake produced fresh bass, perch, and catfish.  Although the camp provided no ameneties other than the lake, fish, and dead wood no one in our camp mustered up nary a complaint.  It was all about the fishing, eating, and friends both old an new.

I was the oldster of the crew.  One member was a cohort in the same trucking company as the the friend that invited me and the last man was an entrepreneur of the housing market.  All were married and all were in their thirties with families.  One had nine children.  (Boy did I take a deep breath when I heard that one!)  The common link between us all was the fact that we were there.  I did not even grab a pole the whole time at the camp.  Between keeping the coffee percolator going and tending to the fire by gathering wood I managed to do very little else while continuing to have a good time watching the antics of good friends on a fishing trip.  Each had an embarrassing story to tell about each other.  Always the last topping the former.  Guffaws often turned to tears because our sides hurt from laughter and our smile muscles were getting a work out as well.

Because it is a natural camping area with out any services provided each participant brought a truck load of items.  In fact I ordered items from Cabela’s last evening just because of the fishing weekend.  One can never have enough cast iron when working around a fire pit.  It will be nice to have my ordered items for the Cub Scout crossover ceremony scheduled for the 14th of May upcoming.

The events of the last weekend gave me hope for the future.  It has been said that everyone needs something to look forward to. Always have a plan for the future.  Our family had a plan for this years vacation and it started the next day after our last cruise.  Now the new trip is planned and paid for through family involvement and self sacrifice.  I purchased the items from Cabela’s with a plan for the future.   Kellen’s Cub Scout crossover ceremony will only be one of many in the years to come.  I plan on being at every campout with cast iron in tow.  I also purchased the items for the next time that I go on a guerilla fishing trip in Decautor, Texas with my cruise friend, his cohort and the entrepreneur.  I have something to look forward to outside of family but still in a warm and fun atmosphere.  I think I finally found some Texas friends.  I am truly a lucky fellow.

Comments (0) Apr 14 2010

I had mentioned previously that I was going to write about people that are to be admired.  Someone to look up to and consider a role model.  I could start off with my Father since he is the first role model.  I could also use my uncles on both sides of the family as role models.  I could also use the Father’s of all of my friends as role models as well….but I won’t.  Not today anyway .. today I am going to write about a man I met in a parking lot.  A man who looks 60 years old, acts like he is 40 years old, and is actually closer to 80 years old.

It was in the spring here in Texas when Willie and I first met.  I had started walking Kellen,  our son, the four blocks to the school in the morning and back again when school dismissed to give me some exercise, to build up some stamina,  and get out into the elements as a much needed break from the confines of the house while in recovery from cancer treatments.  My wife. Ellen,  had been taking Kellen to school in previous years when I was in Alaska working construction.   As I approached the school that afternnon  for the first time I am hailed by the school crossing guard.  She is a friendly sort named Ellen,  as it happens.  She is a wonderful little lady that is gregarious by nature.  Typical German stock.  It was here at the door of the pickup that the crossing guard was sitting in at the corner of the school parking lot that I met my friend Willie for the first time.

He was a slight built man about 5 ft. 8 in. tall.  He was a dapper dresser.  His white cotton shirt was pressed and creased in all the right places.  His blue jeans were not wrinkled and his shoes were shined.  He had close cropped gray hair with deep dark brown eyes that danced with delight when he laughed.  One could see from his movements that his once athletic frame had seen many a baseball, softball, or city league basketball games.  Some things are not easy to hide.  When Ellen introduced me to Willie as the husband of Ellen Hage he reached out his hand in greeting.  I could tell from the grip of his long supple hands that Willie had a quiet confidence of a man who appeared happy and adjusted.  His smile was warm and quite disarming.  His confidence and friendly nature made quick work of any nervousness or awkwardness upon first acquaintance.

It became the habit of the “parking lot crew”. as we later jokingly referred to each other, to arrive early  just to get in some extra chat time before school was dismissed at 2:45 pm.  Willie is a retired car dealer and Korean War Army Veteran.  Since both of us are retired we had a natural commonality.    It was during these conversations that our friendship blossomed.  While waiting for my child to get out of school I meet a man, who most likely I would have never met had I not had cancer, who would become one of those men in my life that I would like to emulate.  Willie is an honorable man.  High praise  that I limit to but a few.  He really is a man that does what he says and says what he does.  A personal philosophy that I have adopted and find it refreshing to know someone of the same ilk .

More on Wille tomorrow.

Comments (0) Jan 10 2010