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This weekend my son, Kellen and I participated in a Cub Scouts function at Arrowhead Lake just 20 minutes from Harker Heights.  I had mentioned to my wife that I would not let Kellen down and be prepared for the outing.  I am happy to say that we attended and had a wonderful time.  It is our third year in Scouting and Kellen is learning things that I know will help him today as well as into the future.  In three years I have been very pleased with the growth that Kellen has shown in attitude and interest. 

It was a typical function with many dens gathering up to spend a little time outdoors but the full intent seems to be to let the kids have  fun all under the guise of learning how to orientate in the woods.  The boys spent a lot of time sitting around whittling on sticks.  All trying to produce that elusive perfect stick to place marshmallows on for Smore’s.  I was surprised at the attention span that the kids had.  You would think that seven young Cub Scouts with knives would be sort of dangerous.  Each Cub Scout knew, that with a knife in hand,  everyone needs to be on their best behaviour.  After questioning Kellen so often as to why he is not listening to me I was glad to see that Kellen is listening most attentively to the Pack leaders.  He made me proud many times during the outing.  His, “Yes, sir,” and “No ma’am,” responses to each pack leader during the day kept me happy.

Since the boy’s were constantly kept busy with one activity after the other it was not surprising that Kellen requested that we hit our bunks around nine o’clock in the evening.  Although I was not particularly sleepy I was glad to see that Kellen was tired.  In events like this if the child is wanting to go to sleep it is a sure sign that he wants to get a good nights sleep to be able to do it again in the morning.  Which we did.

It was dark, wet, and rather cool on the outside of the tent but inside we were two toastie tenderfoots resting within the confines of the tent.  Kellen laying on an air pad and his Father laying on an even bigger air mattress.  I was somewhat embarrassed with the use of the air mattress until I saw a neighbor pull out a full size Queen air bed which both he an his wife were to sleep on.  I am a big fan of being comfortable but a full size queen airbed is a bit much for this old duffer.  My wife has a cot that she uses made with canvas and a sturdy aluminum frame.  When I had a pickup to haul things around it did not matter what one carried with them to the camp.  Now that those days are gone it makes a difference to me what I carry since the HHR made by GM Chevrolet truck division has a lot of fun inisde the cabin of the truck but it does not have a lot of storage space so Kellen and I have to be picky about what we take to camp.  Although as long as he is warm I am sure that it really does not matter to my young tenderfoot Bear Cub Scout. 

To be honest the best thing about the weekend campout for this old duffer was when my son woke up in his sleeping bag feeling a little cold.  I had heard him sit up in bed so I pulled my bedroll from over my head and opened up my sleeping bag.  Nothing else needed to be said.  Kellen scurried over to my bedroll and curled up under my arm and blanket.  There were no more heating problems for Kellen and we both slept several more hours very comfortable and warm.  I treasure the complete trust that Kellen displayed to his Father.  Every parent knows of what I speak.  Some things cannot be described credibly.  The one thing sure is that I want more of those experiences in my life and know that they will come less and less as Kellen grows older.  Hopefully, even as they become less and less he will remember them as fondly as this “old goat.”

Comments (0) Oct 12 2009

IT is raining in Texas.   Wow, we sure needed it!  We are in a three year drought.  My lawn has suffered but my back has been eased because lack of water means the lawn does not grow.  It will now… so the back will soon be suffering.  LOL! 

The rain allowed my battered body a little reprieve from the exertion of walking Kellen to school.  I feel like a mixed martial arts competitor that lost a fight the previous  night.  Luckily,  I do not have a black eye and with luck,  I will finally have that distinctive half moon scar above my right eye.  Although it most likely will heal with little or no scarring what so ever.  I don’t know why I always wanted a scar on my face.  With a half moon scar above the right eye what were they going to call me….Scarface?   I don’t think so.  Cow jumped over the moon face…no.  Half moon face…no.   It probably is just as well.  What good is a scar if one does not have  a good story to tell about how tough and dangerous your life has been?  IT is not like I fought off three attackers while delivering a baby and helping a little old lady across the street…All at the same time.  No,  that is not what happened.  It is not like the military veteran who without regard to his personal safety fought and saved a village in a foreign country without weapons by  taking gun fire from agressors and shielding others with his own body while he quickly and methodically permanently erased all the agressors from the village.  No that is not what happened either. 

IF your a regular reader of this blog you will already be informed as to the situation that I am referring.  Namely going head over handle bars on my bicycle yesterday.  I was so relieved to see it raining this morning.  That meant that I did not have to walk or ride to school with Kellen.  I can walk with relative ease but I do not want to do much since my toes are sore and my shoulder is a little tender as well.  The ride in the rain with Kellen to grade school and Jonathan to High School  allowed me to see the different ways the neighbors enjoy the rainy weather.   There were a lot of cars at both schools because of the weather.  then I observed the walkers that despite the weather were doing what they do.  Go to school.  Some had jackets with hoods, others used a newspaper for temporaryshelter of the rain while waiting for the bus.  Still others who simply ignored the rain and shuffled on to Buffalo despite the dreary weather. 

This brings to mind the days after school of my youth.  A September day which has the smell of harvest permeating the air.  The latest cutting of hay laying on the ground.  Each farmer chomping at the bit to get into the field to bring in the harvest.  The corn fields are quickly turning from the beautiful emerald green to the golden autumn color which will appear soon ater the first frost.  On those days coming home seemed boring.  Work has ground to a halt.  Only the tractor that feeds the cattle will be operated today.  With the hired men confi9ned to the farm yard there is little need of a ten year old boy.  So with five buckle boots on each foot, my father’s well worn full length rain jacket slightly dragging in the Iowa mud, and my Mother’s favorite garden hoe this tenyear old went out to the yard to divert the water so it would drain all the little puddles into one big one.   Little did I know that my innate ability to find the low spot of the yard would soon get me in big trouble with my Father.  Boy did I have a good time.  When my Father finally saw what I was attempting to do he had a minor melt down.  HE started waving his arms as soon as he got out of the car.  I did not realize,  when I first spotted him,  that he was upset.  I really thought he was happy to see me.   So I waved back.  Instead of invoking a smile it brought about even more frantic movement from my Father’s arms.  Now this motion I understood.  IT is the international parental sign meaning “WTF”!!! 

It was the best of times…. moving mud is fun…To the worst of times…paying for moving all that mud.  How was I to know that we did not need extra water to go to the low spot of the yard?   My Fatherexplained it to me between wacks to my butt that the yard did not need my help to make it worse.  “Ya but..”  I said to him.  Not much else would come out of my mouth.  I got a pretty good lickin that day from my Dad.  Yet it is somehow worth it now that I remember all of the little details of the moment.  On one hand you have a ten year old boy that had the best intentions in mind.  A ten year old that had a memorible  experience re-dedicating drainage from one area to another with the intent of doing something that was not only good but it was adventurous as well.  Because I felt that I had discovered the headwaters of the Missouri or the first to find the Northwest passage.  All the men that worked on the Hoover Dam did not have anything over this adventurous litle boy.   My Father also explained that I did not need to dig a trench through the high spot of the yard because the movement of the water would cut through the soil and cause erosion damage.  If now were then, I would attempt to try to convince my Father that what I was doing was just what the men of  the Erie Canal did but with erosion.  Yes,  I know it would not work  but I would give my kingdom to see the look on his face as I try to explain it to him if given the chance to do it again. 

I never did tell my Father what I had intended to do that day.  Like I said all I got out was a “Ya but” and my Father finished the whole thing with a definitive directive to never attempt to do that again.   I never did but seeing the children of Harker Heights, Texas walking and playing as they went to school brought about memories of what fun can be had in the rain.  The other thing that is good is the fact that I have these good memories of being disciplined.  I never did do it again.  But when I finish this blog post try to visualize seeing  a 57 year Father of one eight year old son communing with his deceased Father standing together in the back yard puddle  in the rain creating the new Northwest Passage for Harker Heights, Texas.

Comments (0) Sep 12 2009

I am OK.  That is the punch line from an opening sequence from abTV show in the 80’s called “Hercules”.   As the show starts we have Hercules and his side kick walking down the road when all of a sudden the earth shakes and you hear this deep resonating and forceful voice demanding action be taken or heads would roll.  Curious, Hercules and his companion venture forward toward the voice.  It is here that a picture of a four story Cyclops man shackled at the ankle with only a very short chain tetherattached to an anchoring link inset into the ground.  When seeing the duo the Cyclops spoke again.   This time with even more temerity and rancour in his voice as he threaten the two men with harm if they did not stop to  help him free him .   Of course Hercules was not even the least bit disturbed by the words of the shackled Cyclops and said as much to the monster.  This in turn made the Cyclops outraged. He stomped his foot and the earht shook momentarily.  He growled and roared and quickly advanced upon the duo, who at this moment must have been experiencing some fear and trepidation as this menace advanced  on them with intent to do harm.  But the duo  stayed their course and waited for the onslaught of the menacing Cyclops.  All of a sudden there is a screen shot of the earth shaking again.  There was a thunderous crash and the voice of the Cyclpos gasping as the duo dust themselves off from a plomb of dust.  Then there is heard…a not so menacing  but somehow humble voice in the background, after a very pregnant pause say,  “ I am OOKKKAAAAYYYYYY.  I AM ok.  I’m ok….?  The duo walks on by the Cyclops just out of his reach.  Of course the Cyclops is now singing a different tune and is now pleading with the duo to help him out.  End of story.

Kellen has been sick since last Saturday night so I needed to go to the school and retreive his homework for the day and return to the house.  I seem to have contracted the virus that Kellen had so I am in the dumps and in terrible temperment.  (I know….all of you are thinking…Kirk..?  No Kirk would neeevvveeerrr get angry.  LOL!)  I had been to the school earlier in the morning to get the information needed  for Kellen’s homework but the teacher was in a meeting with the school staff until 8:45 am.  So I left and returned at 8:45 to get the materials from the teacher.  It was at the school office that I was informed that I would not be able to walk through the halls to get the materials.  I am not allowed to walk the halls during school hours.  Yet,  two mother’s of children attending the same school. came to the office and were allowed  to walk those same halls to enter a classroom for observation.  I did not want to enter to observe.  All I wanted to do was talk to the teacher about my son’s schoolwork.  I don’t care if this is for security of the school or not.  I am not happy to have access to my son denied for any reason and at any time that I so desire.  This is not a jail.    I am not a security risk.  Would I sign in if I was a risk?  I have been allowed many times previously to walk the halls but somehow I am not allowed to do that any more.  I am not a happy camper at this point.

The school secretary left me stansding at the info/reception counter to find the teacher and get my son’s schoolwork.  Unfortunately I cannot say if she told me that particular bit of information because I am afraid I may have been not listening when she left the office.  The only thing I knew at that juncture was that I was not able to access my son because of some security measure that is not protecting the school or its students by denying me access.   I am not a threat!  (insert big angry Cyclops wail.)  The people that I was dealing with knew that I was not a threat but enjoyed using their control in an obtuse,  yet…  by the book… way.   I must be losing my touch because in days gone by security would have been called and trouble would have been at my doorstep soon after arriving home.  I guess that I am like the cyclops and the two school staff personnel that I dealt with are  like Hercules the TV show stars.  Even though I spoke in an evil monstrous tone with an evil eye like the Cyclops.  Spewing this and that.  (Not one word of what I said could not be said in the presence of my Mother.) Yet ugly was in the air.  After some tense minutes waiting at the counter the secretary appears with homework in hand and I leave quietly but I am sure that there were fumes still lingering when I left. (Remember this is my story and I can tell it anyway i want.)

Now please consider ,  the big ugly Cyclops(me) is riding his bike back to the house after the school incident.  The folder,  with assignments, and textbook in the right hand.  Somehow this novice biker managed to stay upright for a few blocks with only one hand on the handlebars of a new bike that I had just purchased.  I planned on going slow because of my unfamiliarity.  The excitement was over and I was retreating to the confines of my house.  As I approached the intersection of my home and the thorough fare that I was biking on,  a car,  approaching from my rear traveling in the same direction as I,  made a right turn at the corner intending to travel the same direction as I intended to travel after making the same right turn onto the street.  Right of wieght must prevail.   Under normal circumstances this would not have been a problem. Had I two hands.  Instead,  my only alternative was to clasp the handbrake of the front wheelwith my left hand which in turned toppled me head over handle bars strait to the side walk that I had beentraveling on as I approached the street on which my house is situated.  All in front of the young man in the Mustang,  who… by turning when he did,  through  no fault of his own,  started this Rube Goldberg series of events.  After plopping onto the sidewalk with a thunderous clunk and cracking my skull. scraping my left foot,  and cutting a few fingers  all I could manage to say with the most sheepish of voices was, ”I am OOKKKAAAAYYYYY,  I AM ok!  I’m ok…?  The young man in the Mustang was visibly concerned for my welfare. After asking if I was alright and I assuring him that I was,  he drove away shaking his head only after watching me pick up all of Humpty-Dumpty’s pieces and humbly walk towards my home with Kellen’s school work in hand and me walking the last block to my house bleeding from four or five different spots on my anatomy. .

In retrospect, I must indeed curb these rages that I still have in my body.  I am not a force in life as I once thought.(WHO IS…???) Nobody trembles in my wake.   Possibly this is a sign of maturity.  Although, I will fight you tooth an nail before I would admit it.  Maybe God provided the driver of the  Mustang as my tether, not unlike the Cyclops of which I have spoken,  to put me back in focus to what is really important in  my life.  Quibling about access to my son in school is most likely  not a battle with which I should pick.   Fighting a battle to have access to my son in school to end up  losing access to my son in school because of that battle is not a battle that I wish to engage.  So …I am ok with it.   Now….after making a fool of myself, in front of teacher, a secretary, and a stranger.  Not unlike Mr. Cyclops.  I AM OK…???!!!

Comments (0) Sep 11 2009