Thursday, September 29, 2005

9-29-05

Hey, we're on a roll now. Three straight days.

Survived the trip to Fort Smith last night. Ate at Logan's Roadhouse. Excellent rolls. Had a little sirloin. So-so. Usually is better. Well nourished, though. Did not go to bed hungry.

Got to see some excellent lightning strikes. After eating, had to go to JC Penny's, you know, where America goes...uh, I can't remember their slogan. They were having quite the sale. Suckered us out of too much money but Daddy had to have some new jeans or the world would see more of my posterior than they would like.

I wasn't all that worried. The wife was pretty set on getting some new jeans as the other ones were worn out. I look at it as skidmark protection.

There was some pretty serious rain on the way back between the greater Rock Island Metropolitan area and the outskirts of Poteau. We were sliding all over the road.

After we got home, found out the electricity was out. Stayed off another hour or so before it came on, went off, then came on for good. No word yet on whether the hospitals are worried about a baby epidimic in nine months.

Everybody always likes to complain about the utility companies. So do I, at least as far as price, but I must give it to OG&E. We didn't call and complain about the electricity. At least the wife and I didn't. The boys might have since they were busy playing computer games when the juice got zapped.

But a lady from OG&E actually called to make sure we had our electricity. I didn't know utility companies actually had people that could talk on phones.

I slept most of the way to Fort Smith so sadly, I didn't come up with anything brilliant. I doubt if I'd been awake it would have made much of a difference, either. But while eating some peanuts and throwing the hulls at other people when they mistakenly looked the other direction, I had a thought.

Actually, it was a complaint. I heard somebody say "I googled it." Uh, can't you just say you did a search for it on the computer? How the heck do you "google" something.

That almost sounds like something you'd hear out of an R-rated movie. I can just imagine some teen with bad acne asking another teen the following: "Uh, what'd you do last night?"

"Not much," the other future leader of our nation would respond. "Had a date with (please insert name here)."

"Cool," said the lonely boy who probably hasn't had a date in his life. "How'd it go?"

"Pretty good, we googled for quite a while!"

The other boy is astounded. He had no idea the girl would google. She certainly didn't look like the type to google, but you just can't tell about a person by outside appearance. She was obviously a googmpho.

So after that thought, I ask everybody to please refrain from saying they "googled" something.

Got a letter from a local attorney. It was a statement. Under amount due, it said nada. So this person sent me (or actually our employer) a statement saying nothing was due. That cost him 37 cents.

Enough for today. Rather cool this morning. Almost a little, well, never mind.

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

9-28-05

Ahoy mateys and...what exactly are female mates? Matessess? Shemates?

Oh well, who really gives a flying fooey. I never have before, given a flying fooey and actually don't know how to give one.

Maybe another use of words would be more appropriate.

Speaking of a word that makes me think. It's "blackmail". Why is it called that? If an African American can kidnap somebody and demand a ranson, maybe then I can see it being called that, although I still don't get the "mail" part of the end. I guess at one time ransoms came through the mail.

If a white person kidnaps somebody, shouldn't it be called "whitemail". So, what if an Asian person kidnapped somebody? Should it not be a, well, I don't know what it should be called. What I think it should be called would have many Asian-type person protesting outside my hacienda.

We are finally supposed to get a little cooler weather tonight and tomorrow. It's still in the mid-90's but is supposed to have a high of 73 tomorrow.

Cool.

And now for an update on the pet situation:

I feel sorry for my dog, Maggie. She's had Harley as company all these years and since he passed away, she's all alone. Plus, she's 12 and isn't quite as exciteable as in years past.

Daisy is still bloated. No puppies yet. If she doesn't poot them out in the next day or so, we'll probably have to take her to the vet.

No school today. Something called Professional Day. Actually it's Give The Kids A Day Off School So They Won't All Skip School And Go To The Fair Day. I'm not a real big fan of the Arkansas-Oklahoma State Fair in Fort Smith. We went a few years ago and it stunk. Therefore, it shall stink forever. That's my excuse as to why we don't take the chitlins and go.

Plus, the rides usually make me want to upchuck. I also wonder how they came up with that word. Did some guy name Chuck vomit so bad that everybody was standing around hollering and encouraging him to give some more? "Up Chuck!" Probably not.

Then again, vomit is not a very nice name. Just saying it, if you can keep from picturing the act is not good. "Pardon me, kind sir, while I go vomit" just does not have a good ring to it. Not that "hurl" or "yack" is any better.

"My stomach does not feel better and is about to unload" is about the best way to say it, I guess.

That's enough for today. Have to make a Fort Smith trip this evening. Boo. Hiss. Hopefull it's without chitlins.

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

9-27-05

Don't touch that dial. This is the same one that at one time was Craig's Bloggage. I decided that sounded like something like a heart attack or constipation.

Thanks to RJP for the suggestion of the title. Since I was going with a new title, I also decided to change the look at the same time.

RJP also suggested the name "From My Mind's Eye". This is his explanation for the title: A phrase by Frasier Crane in an episode of Cheers. Cliff Clavin states something stupendously stupid and Frasier excuses himself by saying "Pardon me while I go and poke out my mind's eye."

Works for me, I guess.

My weenie dog, Daisy, still hasn't spit out her puppies yet. She looks bloated. Naturally, Daisy is built a little low to the ground but if she keeps putting on weight before the puppies come, her teats (notice that word?) will get caught in the grass.

I keep expecting to wake up every morning and have puppies. The wife and kids are looking forward to it. I'm rather passive. I know they will wake to keep at least one and we're over our quota of pets.

Our little web site hit 15,000 hits earlier today. Not bad for one month. Yesterday, it had over 1,000 hits.

Somebody asked me the other day why I do it. I really couldn't answer. It is something I believe is needed and people enjoy. For a lot of us, there are some good memories in that site. The old hometown has changed a lot over the years but the pictures and stories can take us back to a time when this was probably a better place to live.

I really believe it means more to a lot of people living off than it does for people here. But I could be wrong. That has happened before. But not nearly as frequently as my wife says.

But I also hope that this can help motivate people to make a difference. If nothing changes, Heavener will continue to get worse. That is what happens when your best and brightest have to live somewhere else to get the income they deserve. We need to figure out a way to keep some of them here, or at least make them want to come back here when they retire.

It is time to go away for the day. May you have a good one.

Thursday, September 22, 2005

9-22-05

I've always found it strange that when a person is young, they can't wait until they get older. I'm not talking nursing home home, more along the lines of 30 and 40.

I remember thinking about how simple life would be at this age. Lots of money, a job you enjoy and all fun, that's what I expected.

Turns out that isn't exactly what most people get.

Then when they get to be this age, they long for a return back to the younger and simple days where they had no responsibilities and few worries.

It just doesn't seem right. But I guess there are a lot of things not right in this world we live in. We wind up regretting decisions that we made at an earlier age that can't be reversed. So we look back to these life-changing events and wish we had done this, instead of that, or chose something else over what we decided was the way to go.

Our parents try to teach us right or wrong, for the most part. They also try to give good advice, my problem was thinking I knew more than they did.

It's something I see from kids a lot these days. They think their parents are telling them something to be mean or something, instead of because they have been through something similar.

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

9-21-05

I don't remember the exact date when I met him.

It was sometime in January of 1994. I came home from Tulsa and found him and three other new-born puppies born to Maggie, a half birddog and half beagle dog I had gotten the year before as a puppy.

Maggie was not much at getting kept in a pen back in those days. She got in head, escaped from my backyard and a few months later, she had puppies.

I really don't know who the father was. All I know was he was a quarter birddog, a quarter beagle and half who knows what.

He and his liter mates were placed in a box where Maggie and I could keep a close watch on them. He stood out from the others because of his tendency to rattle off noise while sleeping.

I decided he sounded like a little motorcycle and named him "Harley". The three other puppies were given away.

I tried to give Harley away, but didn't have any luck. My brother took him for one day, but they both decided that wouldn't work and Harley was back the next day, joining Maggie as my dogs and friends.

He wasn't real fond of strangers or other dogs. Harley was pretty much a one-person dog. He and Maggie were about the best dogs anybody could ask for.

All they asked for was some food and attention. During the first few years, they were inside dogs, until I got married and they settled in outside.

They didn't much care for it, but they never complained. Unlike me. I missed my dogs.

Harley was an average-sized dog. Not built for speed and certainly not a show dog. Most of his hair was white but he had some black and brown mixed in. He loved to chase things, whether it was a ball, stick or whatever was handy.

He always surprised me by his ability to catch a frisbee in the air. Same thing with popcorn. There are many a shortstop playing in the major leagues who could have taken a lesson from Harley.

When he laid down on the kitchen tile, Harley would stick his front legs out to the front and stick the back ones straight out the back. Most dogs didn't share this sleeping position.

He loved to take walks in the pasture. Harley was the one who would always stay with me while Maggie tended to run off and chase whatever game could be found. I remember once when Harley caught a rat. Apparently the rat didn't like getting caught and scratched or bit Harley, who wasn't fond of getting bit. He tossed the rat up in the air about 10 feet high, then realized the rat was going to land on him and sped off.

Harley and Maggie slowly aged together, losing some of the puppy-like attitude, but never the loyalty of a good dog.

He always knew where I was whenever I was in the backyard. Harley would sit and watch me, always making sure everything was okay.

I could tell Harley was not doing well lately. Just a few weeks ago, I saw that he was getting really skinny. I altered his food, hoping that would help. He lost his appetite last Wednesday. Harley had been sick before, but always bounced back.

This time, he didn't. I was at a football game Friday night and worried about him. At halftime, I got the feeling something happened. Naturally, I blew it off as a worry.

As soon as the game was over, I hurried home and went out to check on him. Sometime while I was gone, he had crawled into his doghouse. Harley had been trying to get out when he passed on. Half his body was in the doghouse, his head and upper torso was outside.

I called his name, hoping it was a deep sleep, but knowing it wasn't. I touched him and realized that Harley was not in pain anymore.

Under a full moon, I buried him close to his pen, where Maggie stood, watching every move I made and wondering why Harley was no longer keeping her company.

A grown man should not be affected by the death of a dog. A person, yes. But not a dog. I guess I'm not grown in many ways as a part of me died that night, along with a friend I will never forget.

Monday, September 19, 2005

9-19-05

Just living the life, I am.

That is, the country and western life. No, I'm not wearing boots and spurs. But my life has resembled some crying in your beer country song over the weekend.

Here's how it would go: (My lyrics!)

"My weekend was a country and western song"

Went to a football game Friday
my team got its rear kicked;
That was bad, I thought,
then I found my dog Harley dead;

(Chorus!)

I've lived a country and western song
all this dadgum weekend.
It's been going on, way too long
Maybe some day my heart will mend

Yep, the Wolfies took it on the chin
Then the Sooners got beaten at the other end
If that ain't enough, my mower done broke down
and then I got my burned and now am a redneck.

(Chorus)
Yep, I've lived a country and western song
all this dadgum weekend.
It went on way too long,
I hope my heart'll mend

Our AC went kablooey
while we had plenty of company tooey!
I miss my dog, Harley
and that ain't no fooey!

(Chorus)
I've lived a country and western song
all this dadgum weekend.
It went on way too long,
I hope my heart'll mend.

It's a good thing I don't drink
or I'd be a leaning over the sink.
I didn't enjoy this one bit
at least I didn't find a zit.

Thank you, you've been a great audience!

Friday, September 16, 2005

9-16-05

The message was not easily understood. "You need to check your blog that you wrote yesterday.*

It was in regard to my blog on 9-14-05. I figured it was because of the topic as I had talked about laxatives, using the bathroom in strange places, etc.

I must have offended him. But then I read the blog and realized I had offended myself. In an area where I meant to say I'm just glad that I'm not a female and don't have to squat to wee-wee, I left out the not.

It made the sentence out that I was actually a female. Oops. Got that baby corrected rather quickly, I did.

Dang keyboard. It's obviously the keyboard and computer's fault. Maybe some gremlins inside the computer messing with me because I read things while typing and then reread the blog. I did not notice missing something that important, of course, or I would have changed that el pronto.

That isn't the most embarrassing moment of my middle-aged life. It's really hard to decide where and what I have done that is the most embarrassing.

One that always pops up is the first speech. It was in a speech class at Carl Albert State (then Junior) College. I decided to give a speech on the proper way to tie a knot on a fishing hook. Naturally, I chose my fanciest lure, a new one that had a set of three hooks at the front and the back.

I was not good at talking in front of people then. Now, I could care less. It can't get any worse than what happened that day. There were probably 15 people in class along with the teacher.

My bladder was about to bust I was so nervous. So I get up in front of the class and start talking and showing them how to make sure you tie the knot so no fish can get away. I tie the knot and then to display the greatness of my work, I pulled on the string and the lure popped free and dropped down to the ground.

Most classes had tile and that would not have been a problem. This one had carpet and once those little trebel hooks get into something, it's almost impossible to get them out of the fibers.

So I'm totally making an anal orifice of myself. I'm still trying to talk while leaning over trying to pull the hook free. This continued on for several minutes. I got desperate and started trying to yank the dang thing free. I suffered the first hook to the skin about that time.

That was followed by several others. I was sweating and panicking and bleeding like the proverbial stuck pig. After a little more time embarrassing myself, like I had not done enough before that, and said "I'll be back".

I went to the bathroom and stalled the massive flow of blood. Finally, I came back to the class. I stayed the rest of that day, then dropped it the following day.

But wait, that's not all! This one might even be worse. At least I can blame the following one on alchohol, that had nothing to do with the stuck lure.

We were over at a friend's house for his traditional New Year's Eve party. He always used to use a deep fryer and cook a turkey.

I was a little intoxicated that night. No, really. Yes, it was sad but true. I was probably weebling and wobbling on the front porch when I backed up, knocked the fryer over and spilling the gobbler and the oil all over the front porch.

Yep, I felt like a real doofus. But wait, there's more! I continued moving backwards in what seemed to be slow motion, tripped over the ledge and fell backwards to the ground. I nailed a perfect sommersault that would have made a gymnast proud and staggered to my feet.

I believe the host used the 10-second rule and placed the turkey back in the fryer and saved the day. I don't know how I kept from seriously burning myself or causing an explosion.

That was the end of that party.

It's almost the weekend!

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

9-14-05

You can chalk this up to determination. Earlier today, I wrote the most poignant blog of all time. Really, it was that good. But as I edited the masterpiece, our electricity went out.

Thus, I lost my blog. Yes, a blog is a terrible thing to lose. Now you're stuck with this.

Just a few minutes ago, I was sitting at the desk in my office. We had a customer, some old man who I don't know, standing at the teller line. Since it is lunch hour, we have a split crew. Only one teller was on the teller line and she was back looking something up.

I heard a distinctive noise and looked up, shocked and appalled to see the man had one leg raised and was cutting some serious cheese. It sounded like a machine gun going off.

He cut it short just before the teller returned. I could not tell if there was any lingering smell so maybe the stench was light. Most women can smell one anytime a guy has pooted in the last month, you know.

Speaking of gas and their offshoots, my little nephew was spending some time with us the other day. My wife gave him a bath in our whirlpool tub. She left him alone for a few minutes then came back and I heard "James!"

After figuring out there really wasn't anything seriously wrong, I tuned out the rest of the conversation, as the supreme court has ruled is allowed by all men. Turns out the water currents must have done something to his little tummy and he made a deposit in the bath water.

Yep, we had a floater. I have no idea how the waste material was handled. I kept expecting somebody in a chemical suit to show up. Usually, I am the recipient of all activity of this order, but somebody else must have stepped up to the plate.

I decided the water must have some kind of laxative quality, or something like that. Must be like Books-A-Million does to me.

I can't hardly step in the place without it hitting me. I'll be glancing at a book or flipping through a magazine when the tummy stirrings hit. I'll do the duck waddle walk back to the bathroom, barely arriving before high tide hits.

Now, it's always good to get rid of the toxics in a body, I just don't understand what makes this happen. Plus, it's bad to go there because they won't allow reading material in the public facilities and there is seldom any literature written on the walls of the stall. That's just not right. A man has to have reading material while transacting that kind of business.

Luckily, I'm fairly regular in that area. Yes, I know you're relived to hear that. I do know people who have problems in that area. Especially people who aren't able to relieve themselves when they're away from home.

They have to go several days without any transactions! My gosh, that must hurt their tummies. I guess they can't handle playing on the road, much like many athletic teams.

I'm just glad I'm not a female. I'd hate to have to take a seat every time I need to go. There are some nasty joints out there. I'm pretty liberal in my use of bathrooms. But I do draw the line on any restroom that offers prophylactics for purchase in the bathroom. I could be wrong, but it's my belief that anybody who wants to make money off selling condoms does not put a lot of priority in having a clean toity.

I've learned many things while visiting bathrooms, especially stalls. I've learned a lot about people, but don't know if it is actually true whether so-and-so provides a good time as I have never actually called the person to verify the this claim.

Plus, I've read many interesting poems and discovered that many people are apparently good or bad at several intimate activities that should be conducted only after marriage.

One thing that always irritates me is when a bathroom has the newspapers in the frame above the urinal. I'll get busy reading the paper and see something I want to read about inside, but can't access the information. I really feel that is a ripoff. If they are going to provide a newspaper to look at, a person should have access to the whole thing.

There is one other good thing about these. I always feel better using these because most people are attracted to reading the newspaper and I seldom get the eerie feeling that the nutso in the next urinal is trying to sneak a peek.

Enough for today. Farewell.

Thursday, September 08, 2005

9-8-05

Had over 900 hits on Heavener Online yesterday.

That more than doubled the previous total. It was rather wild. RJP is going to help with a new banner on the top of every page that looks better than the current one.

This morning was the first time it has been a little cool in the morning since May. I'm listening to some country music over the radio.

I like all kinds of music, including some country. Just can't take the whiney ones where there wife has left them, the dog got hit by a train and the government didn't send the welfare check kind of songs.

The song I dislike more than any other is Louisiana Saturday Night. Whoever wrote that had to be whacked out. Just imagine actually sitting around writing the following lyrics:

Cho: Hey you get down the fiddle and you get down the bow
Kick off your shoes and throw 'em on the floor
Dance in the kitchen 'til the morning light,
Louisiana Saturday night!

Waiting in the front yard sitting on a log,
Single shot rifle and a one eyed dog.
Yonder come the kinfolk, in the moonlight
Louisiana Saturday night!

My brother Bill and my other brother Jack,
Belly full o' beer and a possum in a sack.
Fifteen kids in the front porch light,
Louisana Saturday night!

Kinfolk leave and the kids get fed,
Me an' my woman gonna sneak off to bed.
We'll have a little fun when we turn off the light,
Louisiana Saturday night!


Got a possum in the sack! All right! That is just classic.

Whoever wrote that is probably rich. I don't know how anybody could sing that without tossing their cookies. Yonder come the kinfolk, in the moonlight!

No wonder some other countries no longer respect the United States. This song was actually played over the radio and was popular with some people.

Ugh.

Can you imagine somebody like Pavarotti singing this?

I can't.

That would be worse than being forced to watch a marathon of The Lawrence Welk Show.

Wednesday, September 07, 2005

9-7-05

It's another Wednesday. It should feel like a Tuesday since this is the second day of the week, but instead, it is more like a Friday.

Another hot day to go along with the others. The mornings are cooling off a bit.

For the last few days, I have contemplated writing a story for Heavener Online about the Wolves winning the game Friday for Cody Barlow, who passed away in May. He would have been a senior this year and a member of the football team.

I hesitated at first, not wanting to try and play off an emotional issue and also afraid that it might bother some people.

Last night, I went ahead and wrote the story. It can be viewed at Heavener Online at the top of the home page or can be accessed here. I don't have a picture with him for this link. It was a sad story of a boy with what should be a successful life ahead, cut short way before his time.

This is really one of the few stories I have put on Heavener Online. I've had to spend most of my time trying to get everything lined up. We've had a bunch of people submit stories and that is great. That is what I wanted to see. Now, we just need to keep it going.

I really feel like we have barely touched the surface of this site. It seems to grow more each day. For only being in existence a week and a half, we're getting a lot of hits and that is great. Some of the stuff doesn't even have anything under it yet, but it will eventually.

One thing I would like to try and implement, maybe on the forum or something else, is ideas on how to make Heavener better. We all know the town has some serious problems. A lot of businesses have closed and the downtown is in need of some upgrading.

But there are some good things about the town, especially tourism. This is the nicest part of Oklahoma, but so many people are unaware of what this part of the state offers. With the increasing cost of travel, more people will want to take vacations closer. We can get a part of that with the right plan in place.

But we have to get everybody working together. Everybody is only concerned with what is best for themself, not for the area. The whole county has to get together. In the past, whenever something like this gets started, the emphasis is pushed over to what is best for one town. That town wants everybody's help, but isn't willing to share.

Kind of like a bunch of children I know.

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

9-6-05

Survived Labor Day weekend. That's always an accomplishment as we always have a birthday party for Justin over this weekend.
His birthday is the second. He's 17 now. Very hard to believe. He was only nine when I started dating his mother, who eventually became my wife. Derik had just turned seven.
He tore up the clutch in his truck on his birthday. So he had to spend the weekend working on his truck with parts thrown here and there.
That always looks good in the old front yard. My wife has a big family and most of them came over. I was the cooker, as usual. I cooked so many burgs that we had a grease fire and almost caught the house on fire, or at least the deck.
I'm still not used to being around that many people in a small setting like a house. A mall, yes, but not a house. We still had a good time.
Heavener played its first game of the season Friday. The Wolfies pretty much were blown out at halftime, trailing 34-16. A lot of people left, not that you could blame them. Pocola was in complete control.
But then the second-half started. Heavener took the opening drive and basically shoved it down Pocola's throats. Then, the Wolves scored again. Early in the fourth quarter, they drove inside Pocola's 10 but fumbled.
Finally, Heavener got the ball back with a little over seven minutes left. The Wolves slowly drove the ball down the field and capped the drive with a TD pass with only 1:42 left. It was the only completed pass of the game, but a big one.
Pocola could not do anything with the ball and Heavener escaped with the win, the biggest comeback I have ever seen from Heavener.
A wild game.
College football in Oklahoma does not look very promising after the opening weekend. OU lost at home to TCU, 17-10. Then OSU beat Montana State, 15-10. Ugh. We've been blessed with some really good football teams over the last few years.
Right now, that doesn't appear to be the case.
Heavener Online continues to grow. We've had around 2,800 hits and the site has only been up for a little over a week. Hopefully, more people will hear about it and start visiting. We're continuing to add more stuff every day.
Several people have contributed stories, which were really good. I hope more people start doing this as that is why I started the site.
Gotta work. Adios.

Thursday, September 01, 2005

9-1-05

Holy Batmanure, it's September. Still hot, but there is a touch of fall in the air, at least in the night and early mornings.

During the day, it's still hot. Expected to be hot again today.

Which is why I was surprised to see our youngest son wearing a sweatshirt this morning.

I asked him if he knew it was going to be hot today.

"So?" he answered.

Then I asked why he was wearing a sweatshirt.

"Because I can."

That's his answer lately to any question as to why he has done something or is doing something. I made sure that he knew that it was going to be really hot and asked again, why he was wearing a sweatshirt.

"Cause everybody else is."

I wanted to ask him if he would stick his head in a full toilet if everybody else did, but let it pass. Now, I figure he will lose his sweatshirt. He already had the sleeves rolled up by the time he and his brother left for school.

Enough about that. Gas prices went up a lot yesterday. We are now paying $2.89 a gallon. Have to give credit to one local convenience store. They kept their prices at $2.69 when everybody else had already increased the cost to $2.89 per gallon.

I got four gallons of gas to mow with and paid over $10. The old lawn will not get the same mowing attention as it is used to.

This will hit hard everywhere. Costs on everything will go up. The only thing that won't is the salaries for people who work for other people. I'm just glad that I don't have to drive a long way to and from work.

I am not an economist, but know this will have a bad effect on our economy. This will increase the cost on everything. The fed still plans on bumping the interest rates two more times before the first of theyear.

That would not help. Just my thoughts on the situation. After 9-11, a lot of the people in gas got in deep doo-doo for what happened with the prices, but I don't hear the same uproar this time.