One Man's Junk is Another Man's Treasure

I look forward to junk mail.  Yep, you heard it right.  Before, most of it went straight to the trash.   I got to analyzing what I was getting in the mail.  Most of it was credit card applications. I have been a member of American Express since 1984 and don't need another creditor.  While discussing this problem with my friend, Jay O'Neal, he suggested how to handle this issue.  If the junk contains a prepaid, self addressed envelope, he simply mails the empty envelope back.

I thought about that and since I am a retiree with a part time job, I certainly have time to open all of this junk mail.  Now, I have added to my morning coffee, paper and Suduko the task of handling the junk mail from the day before.  I usually write them a nice little note, thanking them for their interest and put it in the mail. 

In so doing  I am providing the US Postal service revenue and more job security for the postal workers as well as the clerks that have to process the envelopes at their final destination.  Since most are mailed to destinations in the US (Today's batch was returned to DE, NY and UT), I am boosting the US economy.
Unless, of course, they are just loaded on a boat and shipped to Mumbai.  But,  I am a "glass half-full" guy!

By the way, have you ever noticed the interest rates on some of those credit cards? 



I'm talking baseball....Mickey and the Duke...

Back to the Day Care Centerat "The Backstop.

In addition to playing sandlot baseball every day of the summer, The Boys of Highland Avenue also collected baseball cards.  Yep, these are the same cards that our Mothers threw away when they cleaned the attic/closet, etc when we went off to school.   The same ones we attached to our bicycles to make noise.  The same ones that would be worth a lot of money today if we would have kept them.

In the 50's baseball cards could be bought for a penny and each one included a piece of bubble gum.

With a nickle you could get five cards and five pieces of pink bubble gum.  Today cards cost a lot more and there is no gum.  The bubble gum was not of good bubble blowing quality and after getting the taste from it you would normally throw it away.  In the hot, humid Texas summers it could make a big mess on your shoes if it didn't hit the trash can.  Not everyone threw their gum away.  My little brother had begun a collection with his purchases. Somehow, he had managed to chew 25 or 50 pieces of gum into one large ball.  He kept it in the refrigerator at home and on game day he would retrieve it and put it in his mouth.  It gave the appearance he had a wad of tobacco much like Nellie Fox.

On one of those hot days my brother, Chub, and his bubble gum "wad" were at the back stop for our daily game.  Since he was about three years younger than the rest of us and could catch the ball, he got to play first base.  The game progressed with Chub on my team and George Fortune on the other.  George batted left handed.  When he came to bat, the outfielders (2) moved to center and right as left field was now out of play for him.   Chub was day dreaming when George hit a screaming line drive down the base line.  The ball caught Chub above the left eye.  He hit the ground like a sack of potatoes.  With blood gushing from the wound over his eye, he looked up and said,  "Where's My Gum".    Bobby Kinnear retrieved the "wad" and when Chub got home from the doctor with about ten stitches in his head, the "wad" was waiting for him in the refrigerator. 

If we had a museum at "The Backstop", the gum would be on display



We Held a 2-1 lead, then...

It was 1964 and we were sophomores in college.  The only Modified Sports Competition (MSC) on TV was a black and white program called Home Run Derby.  Computers were primarily vacuum tube systems that occupied large rooms.   Information was input via ticker tapes or punch cards.  You had to know Fortran, Algol or some other weird language to communicate with them.  Therefore, Fantasy Football was nearly impossible with the use of a slide rule and steno pad.  It was about ten years before the TV show "Superstars" would be aired.   But, we had already invented our own version.

Bobby Katz and I had befriend Frank Stahl of Ohio and Mike Johnson from Nederland, Texas.  All of us had been high school athletes and still had the competitive juices flowing.  We developed our own version of superstars and picked teams to compete.  The competition would consist of 10 events, some modified (field goal kicking) and some regular sports (golf) and some track and field events among others.

Mike and I formed one team and Bobby and Frank, The Yank, the other.   After the first three events of golf, bowling and 2 on 2 basketball, Mike and I held a 2-1 lead.  The fourth event was the one that would make history and be talked about in the annals of MSC for years to come.

#4. HITCHHIKING:

The plan for the hitchhiking contest was designed such that each team would be dropped off in Winnie, Texas at a designated spot at 1:00pm on consecutive Sundays.   They had to get to Alice Keith Park in Beaumont.  A distance of 25 miles.  The team with the quickest time would win event #4.

The stage was set.  Bobby and Frank would go the first Sunday.  Mike and I would drop them off and drive back to South Park and await their arrival with stop watch in hand.  At exactly 1:00pm we left them on Hwy 146.  IH 10 was not complete and the shortest way back was a two lane highway, known then, as the Beach Road.  We were about five miles down 146 when a honking car passed with Bobby and Frank hanging out the windows waving at us.   They were waiting for us when we got back to the park.  Mike and I conceded the victory and didn't even take our turn.

The Superstar competition ended in a 2-2 tie.  The other events were never held.  I don't recall why.  I think Mike got a girl friend and the rest of us went bowling.

Bobby and Frank The Yank set a record that still stands.  It rivals the fetes of Cal Ripken, Nolan Ryan, Ernie Nevers, Richard Petty and Linda Lovelace.  The days of hitching a ride to the picture show are gone forever.

Modified Sports Competition

What are Modified Sports, you ask?  They are competitive events where, by necessity, the Process, Systems and/or Structures of an established game are changed to allow competition, or, you just invent a new game.  For example, our sandlot baseball game was a modified sport because we never had 18 players.  Therefore, right field was a foul ball, no catcher so no stealing, etc.

Other than the the sandlot games at the George W. "Buddy" Fortune Backstop, we played Tennis Ball, Full Contact Basketball, Touch Football, Pass Patterns and numerous invented games we will discuss later.

Tennis Ball was developed by  Craig Christopher and played in the power line right of way behind his house.  Because of the amount and shape of land only two bases and home plate were used.  A tennis ball was used instead of a baseball and the basic rules of baseball were applied.

Full Contacted Basketball was invented by Gene Coleman and played on a six foot goal with an undersized basketball in his backyard. No dribbling and NO fouls. A lot of busted lips, black eyes and bloody noses resulted.

Touch football was played every Sunday at Alice Keith Park.  Everyone knew there was a game and just showed up. It was an All passing game.  You had four downs to complete three passes for a first down. Everyone on offense was an eligible receiver.  There was a short period of time (circa 1963-1964) that we moved the game into the high school stadium. During this time we had some black athletes from nearby join the game.  Several of the players went on to play in the NFL (Bubba and Lawrence Smith, Johnny Fuller).  This game only lasted a couple of months as the school officials locked up the stadium so we couldn't get in.  At that time the area was still segregated and I always felt the field was locked because some local adults objected to us white kids of Highland Ave. playing with blacks, but never heard anyone admit it.  I played in this weekly game until I graduated from Lamar and moved to Tennessee.  I understand it continued many years after that. 

Other times, games were invented for the circumstances.  In order to satisfy our competitive juices whiletraveling on a road trip each person would select a particular animal specie and we would count road kill.   Whoever had possums usually won. However, rabbits, armadillos and raccoons could be competitive.

Over/Under bets are always popular. Number of home runs hit in a college game, how many minutes late someone will be, number of trips someone will make to the bathroom,  etc.

While attending a NASCAR race a female C&W artist was scheduled to sing the National Anthem.  My friends got up a bet on whether or not she would display cleavage.  Then they argued over the results.

Once I even challenged my son's friend, Steven Roby, to a fete of strength or maybe it was an endurance event.  In any case, Steven, who was an under aged teenager at the time kept bugging me to give him a beer.  We were riding back from a weekend at Crystal Beach and I told him if he could hold his hand in the ice and water of the cooler for two minutes, I would let him have a beer. Steven proved his "manhood" and made it to the whistle. 

There were many other modified sporting events of competition invented on the spot and still are today.  Usually the competition is among really good friends and the winner has bragging rights until the next event.  In fact, Fantasy Football, is a modified sports competition. 

All of the above were real and conducted in SE Texas.  However, they all pale in comparison to the Greatest Modified Sporting Event Ever.  I will share this in my next blog

I can do it, I can do it, I can.....

After years of making New Year's Resolutions to improve my health, wellness and mind, I finally gave up in 2007.  I had one goal for that year and it was to personally watch 100 baseball games.  I hate to report that I was only able to watch 88.  The following year I slipped to 83.  I have been accused of riding around at night looking for lights. 

As 2011 kicks off I do not plan to set any quantitive goals.  But, I do plan on watching as much baseball as possible.  The first game on my schedule is 2/22/11.  Lamar plays Rice in Houston at 4:00pm.  I plan on being there.  This is one resolution I can keep.

By the way, I am overweight, out of shape and lazy, but I do work the suduko puzzle every morning

Three Hurricanes In Four Years.

THE RITA TRIP

Details: (Written 9/26/05 after returning home the day Rita passed through East Texas)
This may be rather lengthy as I had nothing else to do and the computer was the only thing working.

Tuesday Rita was looking like it was going to center punch Bob Jantz in Corpus Christi and we were feeling sorry for them. Later that day as the track moved more toward Matagorda Bay, we decided to go to the beach and board up the cabin. Remembering what Pop taught me, I filled up all of the vehicles and all of the available gas cans. I gathered up all of the scrap lumber I could find at the warehouse and we headed out. The job took longer than first anticipated and the temperatures were at record highs, so we spent the night at the cabin planning on finishing up the next morning.

Wednesday the storm was still looking like Matagorda Bay. We finished the work, gathered up our valuables. (Photos, Satellite receiver, wall hangers and a large bag of Doritos) and headed back to Beaumont. We felt the cabin was in danger, but did not plan on leaving Beaumont. Jennifer was concerned but I assured her that I had ridden out Carla in 1961 and Rita was taking the same path at about the same intensity. No sweat, unless you went outside as it was 99 degrees. We held our family meeting and decided we would delay any decision until Thursday morning to see if any new developments occurred.
Thursday the track had started turning and Galveston was in Rita's cross hairs. We had agreed to take one of Mike's Arizona friend's Mother with us if we left. Decision time. We decided to finish our preparations, run some errands and meet back at the house around noon to leave. I received a call from my brother, Chub, asking us to bring his Mother-in-law with us. We had received offers to stay in Dallas, College Station, Tyler, Lufkin, Joaquin, Hemphill, Garland, South Carolina, Tennessee and Florida. The traffic was awful; even on the back roads, so we decided to take the destination of least traffic resistance.
Around 2:30pm we left with three vehicles, Linda with the ladies and Mike's dog, Jennifer with her dog, Reno, and me with Joe Fred. Garrett’s house in College Station was a good choice as they looked to be the least vulnerable. When we left Bevil Oaks and got to Hwy 105 the traffic was backed up to our subdivision (College Station Eliminated)
The next two best choices were Lufkin and Tyler. Now we had to decide which way to go. We knew that Hwy 69 out of Beaumont was already a parking lot from our morning chores, so that route was out. We decided to take the back roads to I -10 and go east. When we got to Hwy 12 outside of Vidor it was backed up on the freeway, so we kept going. Highway 87 was a possibility but when we got there it was a log jam. So we continued east into Louisiana. Tennessee, South Carolina and Florida were now viable options. Just across the Texas line we took LA Hwy 109 to Starks. Great move Wright! No traffic, Yee Haw! Good decision, you are the man Jimbo! Oops, five miles from Starks it was Wal-Mart parking at Christmas time. We were committed at this time, but tempers were getting edgy. Did I mention it was 100 degrees? The first time I have ever been on a highway and actually looked for the shady spots as it was all stop and go. Once we got to Starks the traffic picked up and moved pretty well.
Did I mention that I had not refilled my truck after the trip to the beach? No problem, I had five cans of gasoline in the back. It was a good thing because there was not a station with gas for 150 miles.
We continued to take the North bound Louisiana highways that ran parallel to the Sabine River. This worked well except when one of them turned into a dirt road and at one point a forest fire was burning next to the road. A couple of pee breaks and about six hours later I was getting really tired. We came to LA Hwy 6 West of Many, La and decided it was time to get back to Texas. I didn't think I could last to Tyler and it was still 4-5 hours off. This turned out to be a good decision as we had minimal traffic all the way to Lufkin. By luck we found a gas station that had gas and we all topped off, (I filled up) Got to Lufkin around 10:00pm. Linda's niece, Lisa and her Husband, Kenneth were very gracious hosts.
Friday morning we learned that Beaumont was looking down the gun barrel of Rita's fire power. Chub came from Dallas and picked up Mrs. Knight. Jennifer and I went grocery shopping. It seemed that every person that evacuated the Gulf Coast was in Lufkin. The stations that had gas to sell had lines for blocks. It was reported that a couple of shootings occurred there over line cutting, etc.
We hunkered down Friday night and watched Shepherd Smith reporting from Beaumont. Boy were we glad that we left Bevil Oaks. It was looking really bad. I had quit worrying about the beach house and focused my worrying on our home.
Saturday morning I awoke to no electricity. What about "Shep"? The winds started increasing steadily as the early morning went on. My niece had parked her Brother David's brand new pick truck across the street in their neighbors drive. You know what comes next, Yep, the big tree fell on the new truck. David is in Mexico with his new bride. I think it would be best if we wait awhile to tell him.

Around noon the winds had let up and radar was showing a clearing back to Beaumont. I decided to head home. Linda and Jen would wait for me to tell them what I found. I took Hwy 59 south to Cleveland and 105 West to avoid going through some of the hard hit areas and going through Beaumont. The radio was saying the police were not letting people into Beaumont and I could get to Bevil Oaks without going through Beaumont, providing 105 was open. I had made up my mind I was going even if I had to turn around and come back. I couldn't stand not knowing what happened to our house.
East of Batson Hwy 105 was rough. No clearing had been done and there were a lot of trees on the road. Down power lines, but nothing that stopped traffic. I was feeling pretty good about getting home. When I came upon the first road into Bevil Oaks, a tree and a transformer were in the middle of the road and no way could I get across. The second road entrance was passable, for a few blocks. It was evident no road clearing had been done. Even the volunteer fire dept was gone. I was close enough to walk to the house if I had too. (foreshadowing) I managed to work my way around downed trees and electrical lines all over the main road going back to our house. When I reached our street and turned left, all I could see was trees. I got within two blocks of the house and had to stop. Joe Fred and I got out of the truck and started walking to the house. I couldn't see anything but trees down. When I got to the house, I discovered trees down every where. There are at least 70 trees down on our property. But, the house was in good shape. The only damage was a tree that fell toward our patio that had taken down the gutters on the North side of the house. The irony is, this is the same tree that the top broke off in 1986 during Hurricane Bonnie and took off the gutters on my garage. It had grown back out and came back to haunt me again. Tomorrow this tree will get to know Mr. Stihl.

I had to get my chain saw and tractor to clear enough room to get my truck to the house. I had to get the generator in so I could have some electricity.
We are very fortunate not to have any damage. This place is unbelievable and I can't describe to you how bad it is. I am not kidding when I said at least 70 down trees. It looks like a war zone. Once I got my truck in front of the house, Joe Fred got back in and wouldn’t get out. He was a little spooked.
Right now I have the generator running and the computer (phone lines) obviously work. I have no running water but I got a lot of jugs and I have 15 gallons of gas for the generator.

I also have about 8 cans of tuna fish (Babe taught me this). So all will be fine. Linda and Jen will need to stay awhile until we can get some more services. They haven't been adequately trained to pee in the back yard.

Tomorrow, Joe Fred and I will begin cutting up some trees. If anyone needs firewood, come on down.

Epilogue (11/15/2005)

Bevil Oaks Municipal Water District had the water running in a couple of days although it had to be boiled for food preparation or consumption. I fired up the propane burner and boiled a big pot of water to wash the dishes and give to Joe Fred. He preferred bottled water and refused to drink it. As it turned out it came in handy a couple of days later when I had no water pressure for a shower and used it for a sponge bath on the back porch. Being one of only a few people back in town going nekked was not a problem.
After three days I was running low on gas and decided to see if I could find any in town. Nothing, and I mean, nothing was open. I made the mistake of getting on I-10 and the cops wouldn’t let me exit. I ended up driving to Anahuac to find some gas. I also drove to the beach and found the cabin had survived very well. Only some shingles missing from the roof. Had to sneak back in through some secret roads. After relocating to College Station for a week, Linda and Jen returned home to help. The over/under on how many days they would stay without air conditioning was two. It was still HOT. The electricity was off for three weeks. When it was restored, the air conditioner would not run. At least I didn’t have to keep putting gas in the generator. A few days later our favorite AC man, John Faraci got it working.
All told, we had over 70 down trees. Half of them were completely uprooted. Our fences were destroyed. We managed to get the front, back and sides of the house cleared within a month. I paid some guys from Cleveland, TX to clear the pasture and pile up the debris with their bulldozer, track hoe, bobcat and trucks. They made three very large piles to burn.
Heath Killingsworth helped me make temporary repairs to the fence to contain the dogs. Linda, Jennifer and Bobby Katz became skilled front end loader operators. Many thanks to Kenneth, Lisa and Shelby Lambert for taking our entourage in under difficult circumstances. Kenneth brought his crew down for firewood and cleared a large section of debris. They also drank a large volume of beer that night. Many thanks to all of my new amigos. My neighbor, Tommy Cooley, was a big help the first few days until Exxon-Mobil found out he was home and called him in to work. Theo Baker worked his tail off for three of the hottest days you can imagine. He is the strongest person I know.
The pasture sure looks barren with all of those trees gone. It will take a while to get all of the little things done. We will have to patch the roof, repair fences, replace gutters and do a lot of landscaping. Still got firewood if anyone wants it. We got red oak, white oak, swamp oak, hickory, sweet gum and hackberry.

"...Like A Chicken with It's Head Cut Off"

After watching the recent CMA Award show several weeks ago, I now have a new favorite musical group.  Lady Gaga and The Black Eyed Peas have been replaced with the Zac Brown Band.  They sang a song called, "Don't Be Fallin' In Love While She's Walkin' Away" or something like that.  I decided to check into some more of their music.  One song in particular was about some chickens wandering around the yard and a mean little dog getting after it. (You gotta be from the country to understand this kinda stuff)

 While listening to "Sic 'Em On A Chicken", I was reminded of growing up in the country and seeing my Grandmother catch a chicken in the back yard for supper.  Grasping the chicken by the head and with a couple of quick twists she would pop the heamd off the chicken.  The chicken would then run around the yard for a short time until it fell over and before you knew it we were arguing over who got to eat the "pully bone".

I remember a story my Grandmother used to tell me about my Dad when he was a boy growing up in the country.  There was (probably still is) a disease in chickens called the "limberneck". The chickens lose control of their neck muscles and can't hold their heads up and walk around with their head hanging down.  They would eventually die from this, but more often were quickly culled from the healthy chickens.

While washing the dishes  and looking out the window she saw some of the chickens were walking around with their heads hanging down.  Concerned that they had the limberneck and she was going to have to destroy numerous Sunday dinners, she went outside to investigate.  When she went behind the barn, she found my Dad catching the chickens and trying to "wring their neck" as he had seen Grandmother do many times.  Being just a tot all he was doing was straining their necks.   I don't remember all of the story, but I am pretty sure he got a whoopin'

Corporal punishment was pretty popular back then.