I moved to East Tennessee in 1966. During the first year I was there, the local news would feature some remote moonshine still that the Revenuers had busted up in the mountains of Tennessee, North Georgia and Alabama. I eventually got to know some locals and a couple brought me some "black pot" moonshine. I don't know what that meant, but was assured that it was the good stuff and would not make you go blind.
I have never been much of a drinker, but I did sample some of the local products. I can honestly say, I didn't care for it. To me, it tasted like real strong Saki. One of my co-workers brought me a gallon of "shine" from Alabama. He delivered it in a plastic one gallon milk jug. I brought it back to Texas on vacation and gave it to my Dad. He took it to a local lab and it was analyzed to be 90 proof.
After 14 years in Tennessee, we moved back to Texas. I had not thought much about home grown whiskey until I got a call from an old Tennessee friend some years back. We will call him Wes.
Wes and several of his brothers had grown up on Mowbray Mountain just North of Chattanooga. They exposed me to a culture you don't see very often in Texas. All were hard working men, that got jobs in the city but never left their mountain roots. Wes was driving through Texas on his way to visit his military son in California and said he would like to see me. I was thrilled and offered to put him and his wife up for a few days.
They spent two nights and I showed them the "Southeast Texas" Sites and culture. Had a most enjoyable visit reliving the 60's and 70's in Tennessee.
When it came time for them to leave and say our good-byes, Wes said, "I got something for you". He pulled out an old Jim Beam bottle that was full of Moonshine. To demonstrate the quality of the gift, Wes took a sip, made an awful face, stomped the floor and replied, "Smooooth!" I never found out for sure. I asked Wes how in the world he got that stuff since Moon shining was almost a lost art.
Wes said that it was pretty hard to find. When he started planning his trip, he visited a couple of old mountain men. One said that he only made it for special occasions and to come back in a month and there would be such an occasion. The other one he approached told him, "Wes, I don't make that stuff anymore. You know, that you can make a lot more money growing dope".
PROGRESS in the Mountains.
I kept the bottle for several years at our beach house and offered any visitor a sip. No one ever took me up on it. That stuff was so strong that it survived Hurricane Ike.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Sunday, November 11, 2012
What We Need Is A Great Vision
I remember reading the book "Black Elk Speaks". In the book the Great Oglala Sioux Holy Man described his vision. I don't remember much about the vision other than it had something to do with "Blue Men" and the destruction of the earth's resources. I also recall that the Sioux Chief, Crazy Horse had a vision about a white owl protecting him or something like that. These visions to Native Americans were powerful motivators.
As I was thinking about these visions, it dawned on me I could recall only two Great Visions in my lifetime. One was J F Kennedy's goal of putting "A Man On the Moon" in ten years. An entire nation was energized and the technological benefits from the Space Program have been immense.
The other great vision was that of Martin Luther King. His "I Had A Dream" speech provided REAL "Hope and Change" for the World's Greatest Nation.
Today, we have no such Vision. All we have are personal agendas and party line voting. The most recent Presidential election just confirmed that.
What we need is a great Vision! Something that can energize a nation. Something can provide long term, lasting benefits to our entire country. Not just benefit certain demographic or political groups.
I have a proposal:
The Mission would be to generate enough energy such that our entire country becomes an energy exporter. The implementation strategy would include the use of all known sources of energy; green and hydrocarbon. The primary focus would be in utilizing the abundance of natural gas and the development of the technology and infrastructure to support this and other types of energy utilization.
It is my belief that this effort would create many new jobs as new technologies were developed and implemented. The trade deficit would be reduced by exporting products and technology. Without any dependence on trade with foreign countries such as Venezuela, Saudi Arabia, etc., we would be able to make better decisions without regard to impacting our economy.
I have this personal vision of being able to power my well water irrigation system with wind energy,
solar energy providing the electricity to operate my natural gas compressor in the garage while it refuels my pick up overnight.
As I was thinking about these visions, it dawned on me I could recall only two Great Visions in my lifetime. One was J F Kennedy's goal of putting "A Man On the Moon" in ten years. An entire nation was energized and the technological benefits from the Space Program have been immense.
The other great vision was that of Martin Luther King. His "I Had A Dream" speech provided REAL "Hope and Change" for the World's Greatest Nation.
Today, we have no such Vision. All we have are personal agendas and party line voting. The most recent Presidential election just confirmed that.
What we need is a great Vision! Something that can energize a nation. Something can provide long term, lasting benefits to our entire country. Not just benefit certain demographic or political groups.
I have a proposal:
Become Energy Independent by 2022
The Mission would be to generate enough energy such that our entire country becomes an energy exporter. The implementation strategy would include the use of all known sources of energy; green and hydrocarbon. The primary focus would be in utilizing the abundance of natural gas and the development of the technology and infrastructure to support this and other types of energy utilization.
It is my belief that this effort would create many new jobs as new technologies were developed and implemented. The trade deficit would be reduced by exporting products and technology. Without any dependence on trade with foreign countries such as Venezuela, Saudi Arabia, etc., we would be able to make better decisions without regard to impacting our economy.
I have this personal vision of being able to power my well water irrigation system with wind energy,
solar energy providing the electricity to operate my natural gas compressor in the garage while it refuels my pick up overnight.
Friday, September 7, 2012
This, Bud, Is For You!
Back in the late 1970's in Chattanooga, I had started running to improve my endurance for off road motorcycle events. To provide some incentive I set a goal of running in the Chickamauga Chase that was held every year. It was a 15K (9.3mi.) run on the roads of the Civil War battlefield of the same name. Overtime I eventually got more interested in running than motorcycles. The physical benefits were fantastic. I met many people through the events and initiated numerous others to become interested and take up the activity. One of those eager "proteges" was a co-worker named Bud Wisseman. I had about a year up on Bud when he got started. At that time running shoes were still in the early development stage and you couldn't find a pair of Nike Air Max at the Foot Locker. Heck, you couldn't even find a Foot Locker or an Academy for that matter. I had a running friend in Houston that introduced me to New Balance, but I had to order them from Massachusetts. I sent a sketch of my foot and bought a pair of NB 320. Wow! They sure beat running in my Chuck Taylor Converse All Stars.
I recall sitting in my office with Bud and going over the drawings necessary to get a good pair of training shoes. Bud was rather slow at first, but extremely persistent. A bunch of us would meet at various locations and team up for our routine runs. Usually pairing up by pace and the desired distance we wanted to run on that particular day. I recall running on a rather warm day at Chickamauga. Bud was in a group behind me. We had already finished when Bud came in. He looked terrible. I asked him what happened and he replied, "Some rednecks in a pickup had passed and threw a chocolate shake on him"
Well, Bud was an engineer and very meticulous. Like most of us he kept records of his runs. He kept increasing his distances and improving his times in local 5, 10 and 15K runs. In December 1979, I transferred back to Texas. Earlier in the year I had run two of my best races; a 40:01 10K and a 15K in about 62min 42sec. After moving to SE Texas, two deteriorating knees and oppressive heat slowed down my running until I was advised by my orthopedic surgeon to give it up. And I did.
Bud on the other hand kept plodding along.
Periodically I would hear from Bud and that he had stayed with his running. He was running every day. He would call when he reached a particular milestone. At one point I was vacationing back in Chattanooga when I attended a pizza party for Bud to celebrate his 10.000th mile. I had not heard from Bud in probably 8 to 10 years. Last week, out of the blue, my cell phone rings and it is Bud.
He has stayed with his running but slowed down a bit on his times, but not his distance. But, that is somewhat understandable. After all, Bud is 74 years old now. After a most enjoyable discussion, I learned that Bud has now run over 55.000 miles since that day in my DuPont office. He has not missed a day of running in over 25 years. That's 9130 days in a row. If I heard him correctly he has run 24 Boston Marathons and if he qualifies this year, he won't need to qualify any more and will be listed in the permanent records. He's come a long way from that chocolate shake bath at Chickamauga Battlefield Park. He will probably live to be 100 if he doesn't get run over by a truck on Hixson Pike.
As for me, I haven't run in 25 years and after two knee replacements and 70 pounds, I probably won't.
But, after our discussion, I decided to get off the couch and I started a walking program. So far I have walked a mile ever other day since our discussion. At that rate I will be 365 years old when I reach 55,000 miles. Bud, your milestones are safe. You are my Hero
I recall sitting in my office with Bud and going over the drawings necessary to get a good pair of training shoes. Bud was rather slow at first, but extremely persistent. A bunch of us would meet at various locations and team up for our routine runs. Usually pairing up by pace and the desired distance we wanted to run on that particular day. I recall running on a rather warm day at Chickamauga. Bud was in a group behind me. We had already finished when Bud came in. He looked terrible. I asked him what happened and he replied, "Some rednecks in a pickup had passed and threw a chocolate shake on him"
Well, Bud was an engineer and very meticulous. Like most of us he kept records of his runs. He kept increasing his distances and improving his times in local 5, 10 and 15K runs. In December 1979, I transferred back to Texas. Earlier in the year I had run two of my best races; a 40:01 10K and a 15K in about 62min 42sec. After moving to SE Texas, two deteriorating knees and oppressive heat slowed down my running until I was advised by my orthopedic surgeon to give it up. And I did.
Bud on the other hand kept plodding along.
Periodically I would hear from Bud and that he had stayed with his running. He was running every day. He would call when he reached a particular milestone. At one point I was vacationing back in Chattanooga when I attended a pizza party for Bud to celebrate his 10.000th mile. I had not heard from Bud in probably 8 to 10 years. Last week, out of the blue, my cell phone rings and it is Bud.
He has stayed with his running but slowed down a bit on his times, but not his distance. But, that is somewhat understandable. After all, Bud is 74 years old now. After a most enjoyable discussion, I learned that Bud has now run over 55.000 miles since that day in my DuPont office. He has not missed a day of running in over 25 years. That's 9130 days in a row. If I heard him correctly he has run 24 Boston Marathons and if he qualifies this year, he won't need to qualify any more and will be listed in the permanent records. He's come a long way from that chocolate shake bath at Chickamauga Battlefield Park. He will probably live to be 100 if he doesn't get run over by a truck on Hixson Pike.
As for me, I haven't run in 25 years and after two knee replacements and 70 pounds, I probably won't.
But, after our discussion, I decided to get off the couch and I started a walking program. So far I have walked a mile ever other day since our discussion. At that rate I will be 365 years old when I reach 55,000 miles. Bud, your milestones are safe. You are my Hero
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Good Dog, Joe Fred
During 2011 I lost my dog, Joe Fred. Joe Fred was 14 and the best dog I ever had. A chocolate lab that weighed about 90 pounds with an even temper. He only barked at the deer in the pasture and an occasional stranger. Occasionally, he would corner a rabbit or squirrel. I don't know how he ever moved fast enough to catch them. Must have caught them asleep in the yard. He could jump the fence, but would only do it if you were on the other side and he felt left out. He would ride mainly in the bed of the truck, But, if it was raining, he rode in the cab while my wife rode in the back.When Joe Fred was still a pup, we had just bought a beach cabin on Bolivar Peninsula. The cabin was a "fixer upper" and was in a state of remodeling. We had no air conditioning and left the windows and doors open at night. That first summer a "red tide " had caused a massive saltwater catfish kill and they were all over the beach. I awoke one morning with Joe Fred licking my face. I instantly detected a very foul odor. I looked on the floor and Joe Fred had brought me one of those rotting catfish. As the years went by we spent a lot of time at the beach. He was my constant companion. If I tried to fish in the surf, he would swim out to where I was standing.
Joe Fred and his litter mate and sister, Reno.
A good dog is hard to replace.
Monday, July 16, 2012
Scars Are Tattoos With Better Stories
Last week one of my co-workers got a new tattoo. It was her second tattoo. The first one she got about nine months earlier. The interesting thing was she was 49 years old before she got the first one and the second came a week after her 50th birthday. She told me that once she got the first one, she just had to get another one. I have heard many people say, that once you get one, you immediately want another one. Her boyfriend isn't too thrilled and she plans to hide them from her Mother.
My office mate has several tattoos. The last one was designed to honored a friend that passed away at an early age. It included images that celebrated their special relationship.
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| Dragon |
Half of the tattoos are on women and half on men. Most are not visible unless you ask to see them
As for myself, I have no tattoos, just scars. Once while sitting in my chair while wearing shorts,
my daughter looked at my knees and said, "Dad, if you had one more scar, we could play tic tac toe.
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| Scars from five surgeries. Two football, two from being clumsy and one from a knee replacement |
Friday, June 15, 2012
The Smoke Must Have Been Going Straight Up
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| Drew and Cynthia on their wedding day |
Some time during every one's life they will meet someone special. Someone you call "friend". One of those people in my life is Drew Kimura. A devoted family man, excellent work ethic and a love of the outdoors. He has been an avid surfer most of his life and likes to fish. It was the fishing that inspired this story.
We worked together for a number of years and he was always trying to get me to go fishing with him.
I like fishing, but am not overly enthusiastic about it. My idea of a good day fishing is sitting on the bank in a lawn chair and hoping that I don't catch anything I will have to clean. I like to throw 'em back.
One day Drew came to me and said let's take a day of vacation tomorrow and go fishing. The smoke is going to be going straight up. This meant that there would be no wind and supposedly the fishing would be good. I agreed to go and signed up for a day of vacation.
We met somewhere before daylight. I mean, it was really early and really dark. We drove to Bolivar Peninsula and planned to start fishing about daylight at Rollover Pass. It started raining on the drive down there. When we got there we started to fish between down pours. At one point I said, "Drew, you know, if we left right now, we could get back to the plant and not waste a vacation day". Being
the optimist, he said, "No, it's going to clear up". So we kept fishing.
I had not even had a bite and was wet and cold. I decided to go sit in the car for a while. Drew climbed out on the pilings, using his surfing balance skills to keep from falling into the surf. He managed to catch a red fish, trout or something. I tried another time or two with no luck. By now we had been there awhile and I was miserable. I mentioned that if we left then we could get back to work and only have to take a half day vacation. Drew was still wanting to fish and suggested that we go to "The Pocket" at the other end of the Peninsula. We did and no better luck. By then I was hating fishing and not too fond of Drew either.
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| Drew catching a wave in his advanced years |
Finally we called it a day and started back. As we drove home it had stopped raining but water was over the beach road near High Island. We turned on the radio and caught the news. The weatherman came on and said that it had rained eleven (11) inches in Winnie that day. I don't know what the smoke was doing because visibility had been limited to 10 feet all day long.
I have not fished with Drew since. He is a good man and still a good friend. He has been successful in his life, has a beautiful wife, great kids and now grand kids. But, I tell you one thing,
"He ain't no meteorologist.
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| No Smoke |
Eliminate The Three Second Rule
Do you ever wonder why some people get sick a lot and others never seem to? Does it have something to do with genetics? What about personal habits? Or, is it just dumb luck? In thirty years of work, I only missed one day due to knee surgery. Some people I know will consistently miss three or four instances with two to three days per instance every year.
I know a couple of people that are almost OCD about disinfecting. They flush the toilet with their foot, use a paper towel to open the bathroom door, read health department inspection reports before selecting a restaurant and NEVER, EVER eat anything they drop on the floor. One person I know would leave a restaurant table to wash his hands if someone he knew came by and shook his hand. Yet, they still get sick. Why?
I have a theory.
Everyone has good and bad bacteria in their body. The good guys fight the bad guys. When germs enter your body, the good bacteria attack it. If the bad bacteria over powers the good, then they get sick.
The super clean people that carry a disinfectant squirt bottle on their belt rarely get germs in their body. This causes the good bacteria to not get much action. As a result they get lazy and puny due to no activity. The good bacteria in a super clean person just lay around on their couch and get weak. They argue over who's turn it is to get up and fight the occasional invader. Eventually, excessive bad germs enter and the "white hats" can't win. The super clean person gets sick.
On the other hand, someone like myself, will eat a French fry that has been on the floor for 30 minutes, wash their hands only when they are dirty, pick their nose, scratch their butt and wear the same shirt two days in a row. If several days go by without spilling anything really good, I will drop a M&M on the floor on purpose.
The good bacteria in someone like myself gets plenty of exercise and are continually growing and getting stronger. It is like they are on steroids. They are aggressive and efficient in fighting the "heavies" and almost always win the battle. Thus, these people rarely get sick.
Therefore, I am recommending that not only should the three second rule be eliminated, but a requirement established that everyone must eat what they drop on the floor. Not only would we have a healthier society, but health care costs would be reduced.
I know a couple of people that are almost OCD about disinfecting. They flush the toilet with their foot, use a paper towel to open the bathroom door, read health department inspection reports before selecting a restaurant and NEVER, EVER eat anything they drop on the floor. One person I know would leave a restaurant table to wash his hands if someone he knew came by and shook his hand. Yet, they still get sick. Why?
I have a theory.
Everyone has good and bad bacteria in their body. The good guys fight the bad guys. When germs enter your body, the good bacteria attack it. If the bad bacteria over powers the good, then they get sick.
The super clean people that carry a disinfectant squirt bottle on their belt rarely get germs in their body. This causes the good bacteria to not get much action. As a result they get lazy and puny due to no activity. The good bacteria in a super clean person just lay around on their couch and get weak. They argue over who's turn it is to get up and fight the occasional invader. Eventually, excessive bad germs enter and the "white hats" can't win. The super clean person gets sick.
On the other hand, someone like myself, will eat a French fry that has been on the floor for 30 minutes, wash their hands only when they are dirty, pick their nose, scratch their butt and wear the same shirt two days in a row. If several days go by without spilling anything really good, I will drop a M&M on the floor on purpose.
The good bacteria in someone like myself gets plenty of exercise and are continually growing and getting stronger. It is like they are on steroids. They are aggressive and efficient in fighting the "heavies" and almost always win the battle. Thus, these people rarely get sick.
Therefore, I am recommending that not only should the three second rule be eliminated, but a requirement established that everyone must eat what they drop on the floor. Not only would we have a healthier society, but health care costs would be reduced.
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| Bring on those nasty germs |
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