Guud Nuuz!!!

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Eldest son, Dean, is boots on the ground in Omaha, Nebraska tonight.

This is post #2998, and counting up to 3,000 strikeouts before we call it a career, btw.

He called his Mama.  He was trying to get his car started.  He parked it in a rented garage when he left for Afghanistan a while back, but it won't crank.  It's probably just as well.  An Airman just back in the US after deployment probably just needs to walk, or take a cab for at least the first day or two (if you know what I mean).

And, I think you do.

Thanks to all y'all for your prayers, and concern.

I appreciate it more than you can know.

One back.

One to go.

Just a little news from my war boys...

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Hey y'all!  Hugs, kisses, yada yada yada...

This is post #2997, and counting up to 3,000 strikeouts before we call it a career, btw.

Got some news from the boys in Afghanistan.


My Soldier, #3 son, is doing well.  His Reserve Unit (704th Engineer Co.) has been in country for almost a month now, and their deployment is going well.  We're able to communicate with him every few days either on Satellite Phone, Facebook, or Skype.

This is a photo that someone posted on the Unit's Facebook Support page.  This was before their departure from Ft. Bliss.  That's Phil on the right (front), sporting his standard "dookie-eatin' grin."  I know he's thinking that he wished he was carrying the big gun.  (He's always suffered from weapon envy).


His Unit has enough missions behind them now (Route Clearance) to know where they are.  And, the consensus is that they're well prepared for the job.

Man, they grow up fast, don't they??? 

Fortunately, he hasn't had any Medic work to do on his troops.  He has treated several Afghan citizens (vehicle accidents, etc.), but to this point, his troops have all been fine.  Thank God.

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In other news, my Airman (eldest son) will be wrapping up his current deployment in about a month.  He's attached to the 361st Expeditionary Reconnaissance Squadron.  This will probably be his last deployment.  

He wanted to change jobs, due to changing needs in the USAF.  He likes his linguist/cryptology gig, but the times they are a'changin'.  He applied for the new USAF Cyber Command, and was accepted!  Great news!  He'll be stationed permanently (hopefully) at Lackland (fingers crossed).  He'll be much closer, so we can visit him, and make his life miserable again!

Well, that's about it.  I just wanted to give a little update, and to thank you all once again for your love, support, and prayers for my warriors.  

It means a lot.

Let's see if we can make it to 3,000 strikeouts...

...by using old work.

Maybe we can actually hit 3,000, (if we dig deep enough in to the archives).

A Facebook post by a friend sparked a memory of an old post I did.

I thought it was worth posting again.

Willie.

Thursday Night Quarterback.

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For no particular reason...except that for the world ends tomorrow, and I wanted ONE more post on record when it does, about just how damn great "The Only Sport That Really Matters" is, and about Mr. Paul William Bryant, the greatest football corch ever.  

BTW...my eldest son is named "William" (We always called him by his middle name 'Dean,' but as he became an adult he opted for the 'William'...so I respect that), and the youngest of the four boys is "Paul.")

Coincidence? 

I just report.  Y'all decide...


 

I AM Papaw...

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Hey y'all!  Hugs, kisses, yada yada yada..

I frightened myself this afternoon.  I happened to look at my rapidly aging self in the bafroom mirror, and saw my Papaw (Daddy's Daddy) staring back at me.

Now...this is nothing new to y'all that have tormented y'all's selves by boarding this particular Titanic for very long.  But, I really did have another light bulb minute.  I looked at myself, and once again was reminded of how hard geneticals are to fight.  

And, that really ain't a bad thing, I guess.

I saw Papaw in the mirror.

Again.

But this time, it had more to do with how aging has made my face more resemble his.  Heck, I know I've got a lot of his mannerisms, and (not bragging)  his wry sense of humor.  And, I have become accustomed to The Mrs. calling me "Papaw" when I say some expression, or half-giggle like he did.

Anyway...I took a pitcher of myself with my phancy iPhone for proof.

See...

I've got a big old cheek crease right down the left side of my face.  Papaw had that.  And, I swear, that cheek crease has gotten at least 1/2" longer since the last time I noticed it.  

Not fibbin'...  It's growing longer, and longer, and longer, and even more well defined.  Heck, that sucker might reach my left nipple in a few years.

But, I regress.

Papaw had a cheek crease that got longer, and longer, too.  Here is an old pitcher of him when he was still a relatively young man.

See!  He's got a cheek crease!!!  (BTW...for y'all old-time ArkLaTex readers, that is Larry Robinson Studios signature in the bottom right corner...you'll remember).

As he got older, the cheek crease got more well defined, and longer, and such.

See, the cheek crease is more well defined.  And longer.  (That's my beloved Munnie in the pitcher with him.  I miss them both every day).

I was showing my first photo up there to The Mrs. a few minutes ago, and she said, "Please don't post that on anything."  I replied by telling her my story of how I am Papaw.  She kinda' softened up when I showed her the last photo.  "Yep!  The nose...the hairline...but your ears are not quite as big as his were, but the cheek crease is a dead giveaway (she loved him, too)."   Honestly, my first photo doesn't really show it, but the cheek crease on the right side of my face only comes down to the side of my lip.  On the left side, the cheek crease comes WAY down below my lip.

Closing in on my left nipple...

Our conversation ended something like this...

Me:  I look just exactly like Papaw.  Except for the fact that he was 6' 4", and I'm 5' 9", I am him.  And, he was a fine looking man.

The Mrs:   Ummm...he was a very nice man.

Me:  Sigh... 

I AM Papaw!!!

I just pray that I don't drive like he did as he aged.  The stories are legion, but for a man that made his living for almost 40 years, driving a truck for ArkLa Gas...well, his later years were not his best behind the wheel.

 

Good Dawg...

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One of my The Facebook friends started posting Lewis Grizzard videos a few nights ago.

Man!  Did I ever love Lewis!!!

Odd man...talented writer, worst husband in the history of husbandry, conflicted in MANY, MANY ways, and funny as all get-out.

I snagged this one from a friendly back and forth between a couple of guys that REALLY enjoyed the guy's work.

A rerun...and an interesting story behind it...

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Hey y'all!  Hugs, kisses, yada yada yada...

I almost NEVER check my "comments awaiting moderation," but since I'm taking a REAL DAY OFF for a change, I decided to clean up all the comprutuhs, and looked at it.

Seems that there was a comment awaiting moderation from a relative of mine.  I've never met her.  But, she is related by marriage to my beloved Great Grandmother, "Granny Laura," who lived to be 104.  (I had her until I was 34 years old...such a blessing, and I miss her every day).

Anyway, she very kindly asked me for info about where Granny Laura, and her husband, Ross Gilmore Newland were buried, as she is working on a family history of the Farque fambly.  (I g-mailed her the info that she was looking for, and a few extra things about the fambly that she might find interesting).

MAN!  How cool is the internext????  Evidently she found this pile of failure through a The Gooble Search, due to the fact that I have often posted about my beloved Great Grandmother (this picture that I took of her when she was about 90 is my desktop background, btw...)

So, it got me to searching this here Titanic of a blog for stuff I might have wrote about Granny Laura, and her chirrens, grandchirrens, and great grandchirrens.

Man...I came across a bunch of stuff!

There was a great bunch of stuff, but ONE really struck me.  It was an ancient post I did about an e-mail I got from one of her sons, my now departed Great Uncle Earl.  Actually, the post is about my reply to him.

This is it.

It also reminded me that Granny Laura's birthday is coming up real soon, too.


Man, I miss her every day. That's all.

"A Little Bit Country" junk...

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Hey y'all!  Hugs, kisses, yada yada yada...


Editorial note:  I told y'all I was too busy to do much of anything, but while The Mrs. was cleaning out the Living Room to get ready for the new (somewhat ghetto) sofa and loveseat a few days ago, she came across a book I had bought many years ago.  She handed it to me, and I put it in my office, and I picked it up this morning at roughly 0530 HRS, and had me a time looking back at it again.  So, y'all get this loooooooong, boooooooring post.  Don't bother to thank me).


Several years ago...let me check...okay, it was in 2004, legendary Country Music DJ & once host of "The Louisiana Hayride," Frank Page, decided to release his memories of Elvis' days on The Louisiana Hayride.


Now, The Hayride never quite made it like The Opry.  I guess you could say that it was like "AAA" for the guys/gals that were hoping to make it to the "Majors in Nashville" back in the 1950s.



But, The Hayride did become known as "The Cradle Of The Stars."


Anyway, I heard that Frank had finally got his thoughts together, along with about a bazillion pitchers he had on file.  And, he and Joey Kent had put together a collection of it all...and that they were going to do a big book-signing at The Southern Maid Donut shop on Hearne Avenue (that was Elvis' favorite donuts in history).  And, you can trust me on this one...I grew up eating Southern Maid donuts (only available here in NW Louisiana), and THERE ARE NO DONUTS ON THE PLANET AS GOOD AS "SOUTHERN MAID DONUTS!"  I swear, if you've never had one, I can not describe 'em to you.


I think that they are about four million calories apiece, and if you can stop with two, you're from another planet.  Seriously...this Krispy Kreme Krap that everybody raves about tastes like Sadie's dookie compared to Southern Maid.  


(Crud...looking at the current Southern Maid Donut computer page, it seems that some outfit in Texas has took 'em over).


Crud...


Anyway...Frank decided to do his book-signing deal there, and I went over and got me a copy.  Actually, I bought three of 'em.  One for me.  One for Mom & Dad, and one for Aunt Shirley (seein' as Aunt Shirley...(the Mrs.' Aunt) was a HUGE Elvis fan back in the 50's).  Frank signed them all, and me and him had a good visit about old times.  He remembered my beloved Granddaddy really good (seeing as Granddaddy advertised his appliance and furniture biz often on KWKH), and vaguely remembered my Daddy (but he was really honest, and said he only "remembered the name.")  Frank is an honest man.

Just sayin'...

I told him a story about an exkreemly funny phone conversation I heard him do when I was probably about 25 years old.  The grand man laughed out loud when I told him how it all went down.  

It had to do with a 28 year old woman who called in to his morning radio show on KWKH.  She had had 12 children in 11 years, and wanted to ask Frank if she should "write a book."

Frank said, "Ma'am...I think you should READ a book!"

Frank laughed like a hyena when I told him that, and said that he really didn't remember it.  But he said, "I should probably write that one down for the archives."


Such a Southern Gentleman.


Anyway, I decided to fire up the scanner, and show y'all some pitchers from the book.


Don't bother to thank me.


This here is an ad introducing the up and coming star that was probably mimeographed, and nailed to light posts, or maybe put in The Shreveport Times.  I'm not sure.

Good to know that he had a dis-

stinctive and unusual style!

  Just sayin'...

This here is a photo of Elvis and his crew on The Hayride.  I was thinking that without "Lucky Strike" cigarettes sponsoring The Hayride, Elvis might not have hit the big time.

 HA!  That's gotta be a young James Burton on lead guitar.  Gotta be. (He's a local boy, so I know it's him).

So, where I'm going with this is with one of the pitchers Frank put in his book.  I had forgotten about it, but saw it this morning while I waiting on the bees wax to do it's thing, so I could get started on my own biz.


I'm pretty sure I've told y'all that my beloved Daddy's best boyhood/life-long friend was David Houston.  We called him "Uncle David," even though we were of no relation.  He and Daddy did everything together as kids, and remained close until David died at the age of...well...crap!...the Wiki page IS NOT RIGHT!  Uncle David was NOT 57 years old when he died!  He was older than that!!!

I just know it!

He and Daddy were both born in 1935.  I KNOW that Uncle David died in the first full year that me and my fambly lived in Colorado.  Counting fingers and toes, and back subtracting...Phil was born in 1991...and he was two years old when we went up there...and, Daddy is 77 now, and Uncle David died the first full year that I lived in Colorado.  

Never mind.  The Wickedpedia is right.  It was that year.

Crud... (But, The Wickedpedia is RIGHT about the "multiple issues" deal.  A bunch of that junk is WRONG!  I know, a BUNCH of that is wrong.) 

Anyway,  Uncle David became a minor country music star.  He had a few big hits, and brought Barbara Mandrell in to his team, and a few others that got to be MUCH bigger stars than him.  




And, when I saw this in Frank's book, it made me snort.

Elvis Presley, Johnny Horton, George Jones, Johnny Cash and the Tennessee Two, and Uncle David...for the admission price of 60 cents for adults, and 30 cents for chirrens...


Heck, I'd have paid the 60 cents just to see Hoot and Curley!

The boyzzzz came for dinner tonight.

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So, it's kind of a "deal" between The Mrs., and her boyz.  They've got a regular date night on Thursday.  #2 son is off work, and has no classes late on Thursday.  #3 son is free nights.  And, the young man that lived with us for several years (not our biological son...but refers to The Mrs. as "Mom") is off work on Thursday night, too.

The only one of her boyz that can't make it is #1 son.  He is out of country, so it's pretty well out of the question.


So, they all gather up here at Andy's Place for some home cooking at the table they love the best on Thursday nights.  

#4 son really looks forward to having his "big brothers" back at the table, and immediately rushes to the kitchen when he hears the side door open.  His eyes light up, and he easily falls in line with all the hee-hawing foolishness of former years.


He misses them being around.  It's evident.

I can't really say that I miss having all the boys here all the time.  But, I can say that I do enjoy Thursday night...a reminder of the goofy funniness of living in what The Mrs. always termed "a boy's dormitory."


The Mrs. is the champ!  She stretches her brain, and culinary skills to figure out (or create) something new, and delicious for her boyz almost every Thursday night.  


There are rarely leftovers.  


So, while we were in the midst of uproarious hilarity, #2 son laid this one on me.


"Dad, did you hear about the blind guy at Walmart?  This blind guy walked in to the Walmart on Airline Drive.  He grabbed his seeing-eye dog by the tail, and started swinging him around over his head!  People started screaming, and the manager came running.  He tackled the blind guy, and the Assistant Manager held the poor dog until he could get his balance.  The Manager finally picked the blind guy up, and asked him, 'What in the world do you think you're doing?'.  

The blind guy seems puzzled, and says, 'WHAT?  I was just having a look around!' "


(Okay...so it's not as funny in the telling as it was in the hearing.  But trust me, it was funny.  It was one of those "ya' had to be there" deals).

Ever had a day that started off EXTREMELY BAD, and went downhill from there?

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Yeah...me, too.

But, I have learned that bad days don't last, or wear on you unless you let them do it to you.


The jury is out on this one.


Naw...just kidding.  Even with all the suck that my early confrontation with 1/5/12 brought (and the jury really IS out on the early suckage of the day), it was all good.  

I got to stretch myself physically/mentally/emotionally/whatever.

I'm thinking that MUST be good for me!  Surely, it MUST!


And, I got to see a beloved FRIEND that I haven't seen in a coon's age...got a hug around the neck from her, and somewhat caught up.


Somewhat.  Not nearly enough.


Man...

Thanks for the Memories, Cowdad!

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Our OLD friend, Cowdad (who we have NOT heard from in a coon's age) sends along this video.  Sure, it's 10 minutes long, and I rarely post anything longer than 2 minutes (unless it is yours truly doing a V-Log), but I watched the whole dang thing, and enjoyed the heck out of it!

And, if you can get past Baba Wawa, there are some hot chicks in there, too.

A great man was Mr. Hope... 

So, The Mrs. got a phone call that made her heart sink...

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This morning, The Mrs.' telephone rang.  The number was unfamiliar, but she answered it anyway.


There was a man on the other end of the line that started with something like, "Hello Mrs. Reeves.  I'm Sgt. so-and-so with the 100th-somethin' or another squadron."


At this point, The Mrs. felt her heart drop down to her knees. 


He continued, "I know that you have a family member deployed to Afghanistan.  We are just calling to let you know that if you have any needs we want to know about them.  Please contact us if we can be of help in any way."


That is bitchin', IMHO!!! 


After she gathered herself, The Mrs. told The Sgt. that she truly appreciated the call, and that she had talked to Dean several times, and was really thankful for the call.  


Man...that was REALLY good of the USAF!

Just an update.

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Hey y'all!  Hugs, kisses, yada yada yada...


It's Labor Day, and my birthday.  I be 52.  But, please do not waste good comment typing to wish me a happy one, because every day is a happy one.  Some are happier than others, but happy nonetheless. 


Back on August 13, I had asked y'all to pray for rain, and for a dear friend, Mr. E.


Well, we finally got about 1/3" of rain, and a nice cool-off. Supposed to be in the 50's tomorrow morning.  Sure, it'll get hot again for a while.  But, the worst of it is behind us.  Still need rain.  Lots of rain.


And, news came this morning that Mr. E has gone on to a better place.  Thanks for remembering him, his family, and his friends in your prayers.  I'm gonna miss him.


Y'all enjoy your holiday if you're having one.  Or, enjoy it even if you're not.  Each day has got some joy to lay on ya'.  I'm trying to pick that part out every day, and get the goodie from it.


Well, I gotta get ready, and get to work.  With the state a lot of folks are in today, I'm not gonna gripe about working a holiday.  In fact, just the opposite.  Grateful to have work to go to...

Two Lovers...joined at the hip, and standing in the gap.

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The one on the left, now all these years later, stands in the gap between all of us and our enemies.  

The one on the right still stands in the gap between ME and total self destruction.

(Yeah, when I got home tonight a picture album was on the coffee table.  And, I'm glad it was.)

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My dearest old friend from forever stopped by tonight.

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I wasn't expecting him.


Man, we hunted, fished, frog-gigged, double-dated, and kilt snakes together.


We served in each others weddings.  Stood up with each other, too.


Did everything together.  Learned darn near everything we know together.


Then, we kind of parted ways, and learned a bunch of junk separately.


But, it seems that we learned the same things, though on very different paths.


The Mrs. just happened to have supper ready.  We ate purple-hull peas, fried okra, and hot water cornbread washed down with iced tea.


I couldn't get #4 son to come to the table.  He's shy of "strangers."  Damn shame that #4 son views my dearest old friend from forever as a "stranger."


That's my fault.

Go with God!

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At 0700 HRS tomorrow, #1 son boards a flight from Omaha to Meridian, MS.

 A few weeks there, and then off to I-rack.

Wish I could put my arm around him one more time before he goes.  Might happen.  We'll see.


Do good boy!  And, come home in one piece, would ya'?


Love, Dad

Playing Virtual Charades...

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There's a sermon in there somewhere...

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Hey y'all! As most of y'all know, my eldest son is going through a divorce, and will soon be deployed to Iraq. So he's trying to tie up loose ends, and put this miserable episode from his life in the past.


This was on his The Facebook page today.

I'm not even sure if it'll click up big enough for y'all to read...maybe if you click on it, and then again.  Not sure.  I'll have to post it first to know.


Regardless, thank y'all all for your continued prayers, and concern for the boy man!  It means a lot.

She would have been 120 today...

Hey y'all!  Hugs, kisses, yada yada yada...

I haven't been writing much.  It's not that I don't have a boat load of garbage to fill up this Titanic.  I've just been too busy to write it down.  I'll get around to it.  Probably.  Maybe.  Probably not.

Anyway, our yearly tribute to one of the unforgettable characters in my life must be replayed.

Man, I still miss her.  Every day.  Happy birthday, Granny Laura!

The loves of my life...

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January (or thereabouts), 1981...could have been December 1980.  We didn't put a date on the picture, but that's pretty close.

My gal, and my Airman...

 Those two are tight.  They've been hangin' together a long, long time.

Yeah, I fired up the scanner again...