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"Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind."
Dr. Suess
October 1, 2011
Vacation 2011
Bicycles, Beggars, Angels and Thieves
Bicycles...
Madrid Spain. Unknown to us until workers closed the streets and began putting up all sorts of barricades and signs, we had scheduled a few days in Madrid at the same time as The Tour De Espaina. The Tour Of Spain bicycle race. We were right in the middle of one of the stages in downtown Madrid. Way cool!
And when it's all over the motorcycle cops line 'em
up and take a break.
Beggars, Angels and Thieves
After seeing many beggars on the streets of Spain and Italy, I have come to the conclusion that begging is an honest profession. Now, I didn't say socially acceptable or glamorous or respectable or desirable or profitable or anything else. But I think it IS an honest one. It's simple, you beg and I have the option to give you money or not. It's a mutual agreement just like any other honest business transaction. We both go our separate ways when the day is over. No harm, no foul.
Years ago, while on the island of Barbados, my wife and two other women in our group had their hair braded in corn rows while on the beach there. We learned from these women that their status in society was the lowest of low. Lower than trash collectors that roamed the beaches. Lower even than prostitutes. They were shunned by society and slept in the sand on the beaches where they worked or if very lucky, had a bed in a slum nearby. I could never figure this out. We bought bags of beads and gave to these women to use in their braiding. It seems to me that braiding too is an honest profession.
Having traveled much, I thought I was a savvy tourist. I made a serious mistake.
To the gutless, parasitic, pathetic, puke who picked my pocket as we made our way through the frenzied cycling crowd at the finish line of a stage of The Tour Of Spain, I hate you. You are the lowest of low, a mere shell of a human. You prey on people that bring their hard earned tourist dollars (euros in this case) to your city to spend. You not only spend the money you steal, you ruin peoples vacation by having to cancel credit cards while in a foreign country. By the time that has been done, you have racked up huge bills that must be written off by credit card companies. We all pay the price. And, if the person is dumb enough to have their passport where you can get to it, oh my goodness, what a nightmare! I have never had such a feeling as I did when I felt your slippery, slimy, filthy little hand go into my FRONT pocket and steal my wallet. The feeling was indescribably sick and left me as white as a ghost I'm sure. I will never forget it. It took me days to recover.
But you don't care. You don't care about anything but you. You would (and probably do) steal from your own mother. You are a putrid wretch, a parasite on society. The lowest of low. Lower than a beggar. Lower than a prostitute. Lower than a hair braider on the beaches of Barbados. You live a higher standard of living than a beggar or a hair braider, but you are much weaker than they. The smelliest feces I have ever had the pleasure to smell is the sea lions at the piers in San Francisco. So, to you my dear parasite, you are a giant sea lion turd, floating and smelling in the sea of life. I do so hate you! I believe (hope) there will be a special place in hell where you will burn for the rest of eternity.
To the two Spanish girls in the frenzied crowd. You are both Angels sent on our behalf. We didn't even see your faces. I wish I would have. Thank you for doing what was the right thing to do. You didn't have to. You could have just kept on cheering for your bicycling hero. But you didn't. You took action. You did what was right. It is my sincere hope that your place in heaven was secured by your actions that day. Thank You. THANK YOU.
Seeing the panicked look on my face and hearing me yell to my wife, "I just got pick pocketed", You both pointed to the culprit as he made his way through the crowd and yelled, "it was him, it was him."
Upon feeling my death grip on your scrawny neck, that pathetic excuse of a spine, you turned and handed me my wallet back with the most pathetic look on you face I have ever seen on a human being. Shrugging your shoulders as if to say "I didn't take it. It wasn't me," with my wallet still in your hand. Still in the crowd and with bags in my other hand, you were lucky. I was lucky as well. For had I had both hands free, I'm not sure what I would have done to you. I shudder at the thought. Laws are different in other countries. Looking back on the situation, I'm glad I did not test Spanish law. I thought briefly about ending you career by breaking your slippery, slimy little fingers when you handed me back my wallet. I could have. At the time, the sound of finger bones cracking would have sounded good. After a serious tongue lashing and chasing you back into the heart of the crowd, another cycling fan stopped me and waved his finger in front of my face as if to say, "that's enough". I backed away. We are both lucky. I'm not in a Spanish prison, and you will pick pockets another day.
One month later, I'm over it. I thank my Heavenly Father for the way it turned out and at the same time ask His forgiveness for my thoughts of hatred and violence. I can honestly say that I can never remember thoughts such as are on this page in my whole life, ever. I continue to repent for them.
The rest if the trip...........WONDERFUL!
Coliseum
Vatican
Treviso
Bicycle Heaven. Pinarello.
Every time I go to Treviso, I just have to visit
her.
Venice
Florence
American
Heroes from WWII rest here. It is beautiful and was a sacred place for me.
Chinque Terre
Riccardo on a Harley in the Harley shop in Rome. Only 39,000 euros for the bike.
Typical Europe
The streets are kinda hard to ride a bike on.
Love locks 
True Love 
and Cats!
In Siena, there are still candle holders for street lights. No longer used obviously, but still on the buildings along the streets.
John and Kathy were great traveling companions. John can give you a resounding yes vote to his new bionic knee. We walked a bit to say the least.
I think I'm "Touristed Out." Until next time..........................
May 1, 2011
"For God and country, Geranimo, Geranimo, Geranimo!"
To ALL who were involved, thank you just doesn't seem to be enough, but it's all I have.
THANK YOU!
December 17, 2010
On Monday, I traveled to the Navajo reservation in north central Arizona to help some friends with their charity Circle Of Love.
For years, Phil and Susan Robinson have taken appreciated gifts to the children on the Navajo reservation. This year almost 3000 children got some small gifts from Circle of Love. Toys, candy, hygiene kits, blankets, hats, scarves, gloves and school supplies by the thousands made the trip.
Santa made an early appearance and kids of all ages LOVED it!
Phil and Susan Robinson 
At night we helped the kids in the boarding schools make Christmas trees out of coat hangers, lights and garland.
Tradition blends with Disney and a somewhat
easier way to carry baby.
The Navajo landscape is a beautiful
one. 
What an honor it was to serve. I hope I was worth the trouble. I'll be back next year if the Robinson's will have me (us). I want to bring Debbie along next year to share this wonderful experience with me.
Oct 12, 2010
Well now.
Yesterday when I made my "ALMOST" post, I had no idea just how "ALMOST".
Today was my last day of work at Qwest.
I went in thinking I had to work until November first but got a nice surprise. I think my boss pulled a string or two. Maybe not, but I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. Thanks Robert if you did.
Signed a couple of papers, cleaned out my truck, turned in my computer, keys, badge, test sets, put a new voice mail on my cell phone and...done. That simple. Done.
Leaving the yard for the last time as a Qwest employee was a strange thing. Been going there almost every morning for 31 years, and all of a sudden, I won't be going back.
For me, retirement is a different and somewhat scary place to be. It's like walking into a pitch black room and closing the door behind you. You don't know what or who is in the room. Could be filled with all kinds of bad things. Sharp objects, shards of broken glass, nails, knives, acid, liberals, monsters, liars and thieves. Or, could be something darn good in there. Maybe an opportunity or two, or three, a new shotgun, a job that I actually like, ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, Jennifer Anniston.................. Well, it could happen. (LMBFBO)
I'm not sure how long it will take, BUT, I will find the light switch in that pitch black room.
And then we'll see, wont we?
La Dolcezza di Non Fare Nulla.
October 11, 2010
ALMOST!
Wine
September 1, 2010
I don't drink wine.
For two simple reasons.
First, my religion says I shouldn't drink alcoholic drinks, and second, I never acquired a taste for it. I just don't like it. Any of it.
If I did drink wine, I'd surely drink the Merlot from Tinhorn Creek Vineyards in Oliver, British Columbia, Canada. Why? Well, I don't know about their wine, but I do know about their philosophy about wine, and about life. That's why.
In our hotel room at the Blackfoot Inn in Calgary B C Canada, a welcoming basket awaits us as we enter. Wine, chocolate, fruit, tickets to local events that week, etc, etc, all in the basket.
The wine is the last thing to leave the basket (chocolate is first of course) and for some still unknown reason, I read the back label. It reads
"If this wine were human, it would grab you by the hand and insist you dance-- even if no one else was. It would yell "I LOVE YOU" at the top of it's lungs. It wouldn't be afraid of a little elbow grease--especially if it meant helping a friend. It would live by the philosophy: "work hard so you can play hard." This wine isn't human. But you are. So enjoy it with meat or pasta. And when you hear a song you love, turn up the volume -- and dance."
Darned if I didn't bring home a souvenir. Just for the label.
Moments
August 29, 2010
Do you ever have "moments"? Times when things, sometimes odd, hit you like a ton of bricks and really leave you floored? Usually mine come at very opportune times. Times when my mind is open to learn a valuable life lesson. Three come to mind.
First one was many, many years ago in my bicycle riding days. I was on a one day 75 mile charity ride with some friends. I had not trained properly and at about the 50 or 60 mile point, I was a mess. Cramps in both legs, my stomach is churning, my butt is terribly sore, probably hadn't hydrated as much as I should have. For whatever reason I just didn't feel good,,,no I felt BAD! I'm off the bike on the side of the road feeling pretty bad about life right about now. "This was a bad idea anyway, this stupid ride, for what, for who, why? I should be home in front of the TV watching football or, or , or anything but this." Then a guy rides past me and as he passes he asks, "you ok, you need some help?"
HE ONLY HAS ONE LEG!!
"No, I'm ok" I get back on that bike and finish the ride. Cramps, sore butt, upset stomach and all, I finish the ride. And, count my blessings.
Second one is kinda like the first. Debbie and I are in Banff, Canada last week. We're on a short hike to a waterfall. Lower falls 1.5 kilometer and upper falls 2.5, no big deal. Thoughts start to enter my head. "This is stupid. It's just a dumb waterfall. Why am I wasting my time hiking to a dumb waterfall with these other 1,000 tourists? I've seen waterfalls before."
We come around a bend in the trail and ahead of us is a guy with ONE LEG. Prosthesis left leg all the way up to his buttocks. A cane in one hand and a camera in the other, he struggles up the trail, pausing to rest, take photos, and just "be". I can see it on his face. His life is good right now.
In an instant that dumb waterfall became a scenic treasure. The leaves on the trees greener, the water a deeper shade of blue-green. The air cleaner and crisper. And just look at all these nice tourists who have come from all over the world to experience natures beauty. I start to take photos, breath deep, count my blessings, and "be".
Third one. Debbie and I are sitting in Green's Restaurant in the Blackfoot Inn Hotel in Calgary Canada. It's Sunday morning. We're on vacation, and we are enjoying a truly divine Sunday brunch. I mean this is a S-P-R-E-A-D. Whole ham, crisscross cut skin with cloves placed at the x's, A juicy, rare roast beef as big as your kitchen sink, omelets made to order by a guy in a big puffy white chefs hat. Salmon, potatoes, leg of lamb, french toast with fresh blackberries and raspberries, eggs bennie, endless kinds of fresh fruit, caviar. Pastries, oh the pastries! You name it, we ate it.
As we were finishing and letting our wonderful food settle, a family of four sat at the table next to us. Mom, dad, the oldest a girl about 10 or 12 and the youngest a boy probably 5 or 6. From what I could tell they were Swiss. After a course or two the daughter says something to her father in a questioning tone. Because I don't understand their language to well, I can only guess her question.
"Daddy can I go by myself to get some more food?" "Yes, yes. Go ahead" replies dad.
So she politely leaves the table and goes off to the buffet which is right in my line of sight. She heads straight to the fresh fruit and picks up a large plate What happens next brings a smile to my face and for some reason, a tear to my eyes. She picks up the tongs and on her tippy-toes, starts the selection process. Reaching with the tongs and almost grabbing this piece of fruit, oh no, not that one, I want.... this one, nope this one, ahhh yes this one. Triumphantly placing the first piece of fruit on her plate, and with a smile as big as all Alberta, she literally bounces on the balls of her feet with joy. Next, this one, no no, this one, no, ahhhh this one. Another piece goes onto the plate and she bounces again. This process is repeated several times, over several minutes. It was as if she were choosing a wedding ring, not fruit. When she thought she had enough on her plate, she turned toward her table and holding the plate with both hands and at eye level so as not to spill her precious treat, she "floats" back and sits down still wearing that big smile.
As I watch this young girl savor each bite of her fruit, I feel awash with so much gratitude for my circumstances. My life, my wife, my children, my health, family and friends, good fresh food to eat, clothing to wear, a wonderful home to live in and a warm bed to rest in. But most of all, the one thing that makes it all possible. MY FREEDOM!
I'm so glad I have these "moments".
What If ?
August 17, 2010
What if ? Hmmm. (head tilt and mock frown with raised eyebrows) WHAT IF ??
There's a major event in my life coming up soon that has prompted this question to be in the forefront of my mind. It's serious. Major. Exciting. Life changing. And, honestly, just plain scares me to my very core. Hang on, I'll get to it.
I've been asking myself "what if" a lot lately. On one hand I don't think a person should ask that question. In my case anyway, it tends to bring out all sorts of negative thoughts. What if I die tomorrow, get smashed by a freight train as I travel home from work going down river road in my car, (there are no trains, not even train tracks in St. George) what if there is a major earthquake, what if my wife should be a car accident, what if I should loose my job? On and on.
On the other hand, with the negative, I try to balance it out with equal or even more positives. What if I win the lottery, what if my granddaughters call me on the phone to talk to Gampa, what if I live to be 100 years old and in perfect health. What if ?
So, I guess "what if" is a legitimate question that helps us plan for the future and brings us some sort of perspective if we really think hard about it.
I have asked a million "what ifs" in the past week or so, and the positives outnumber the negatives by so many I can't even tell you.
I am retiring from my job with Qwest Communications.
It's time.
It's been a mutual agreement for 31 years. I come to work, on time, struggle, sweat, try to do what I'm told, drive safely, smile (sometimes forced), climb poles, dig holes, sometimes bleed, fix broken wires, put up with bullshit, listen to mean people take their frustrations on the very one who is there to help solve their communications problems, and...... complain more than I should.
I've worked in driving rain, bitter cold and stifling heat. I've worked in absolutely beautiful places and places that I would call the armpit of the world, at best.
I've worked with some of the nicest people. People I consider friends. I've worked with some people that I just can't stand. And, all along the way, Qwest trades me money for it all every two weeks. It's that simple. But, the money I earn is costing me way too much these days. So, it's just time.
I'm to young to retire. On paper anyway. Oh, I'm not going to retire retire, just retire. I plan to stay busy. I have much to give. Skills, time, service, experience, etc. I still want to be a busy, hard working, contributing citizen of this great country. I just want to do it on my own terms. Debbie and I so look forward to new opportunities that we trust will come our way. We have a few things in mind already.
Speaking of Debbie. What a woman! For 32 years she's been there with me. Often in front leading me by the hand, sometimes behind kicking me, but always at my side. What would I be without her? I shudder at the thought. It's been a wonderful life growing old with her.
Back to "what if" and so sum it all up.
So, a bunch of us are sitting around after work one afternoon having a "session." Knowing my age, one of my co-workers asks about my decision to retire in a frantic voice. "What if you run out of money?"
In an instant the answer comes to my mind and I reply with a question of my own.
"What if I run out of time?"
No one else says a word.
La Dolcezza di Non Fare Nulla.
Lucky Beans
June 28, 2009
Do you believe in magic?
I had breakfast with an old friend George Martin yesterday. I feel guilty I haven't called on him for such a long time. His wife of fifty seven years, Mary, passed away a couple of weeks ago and when I called him to express my condolences, we talked about getting together. We finally did.
George and Mary were very well connected in their day. George had a major role in the start of Petersen's Hunting Magazine, and then was the editor for the two magazines the National Rifle Association puts out. They lived near Washington DC, and George was "forced" to work his days in DC. Consequently, they knew and were friends with many very big names in the gun/shooting/hunting world as well as the political world. Let's just say they rubbed shoulders with some VERY influential people.
I didn't know it until yesterday, but Mary was an assistant to Nancy Regan at the white house.
Both George and Mary were hunters. Pure and simple. I say were because Mary is now gone and George's eyesight seriously limits him now. George told me they made twelve trips to Africa to hunt big game. George has taken "The Big Five" minus the rhino, and Mary's Kudu is still close to the top in the Boone and Crocket book. Mary loved to hunt as much as George did.
George started to tell me a story about an incident that took place in the Regan years in the White House. I won't tell the story because I don't feel I should, but I will tell what lead up to it.
Many years ago when you went on safari, the trackers and the local tribe would present you with a "lucky bean" the night before your hunt. The "lucky bean" is a small hollow bean that the locals would cut the top off. They then carve a tiny, and I do mean tiny, animal figure out of elephant ivory. They placed the figure inside the bean and plugged it with a tiny cap also made of ivory. Obviously by the name, it was supposed to bring you luck on the hunt. Over the years, George and Mary had collected a several of these "lucky beans".
Mary had given one of these "lucky beans" to President Regan (before he was elected president) along with a letter explaining the significance. President Regan called Mary to thank her for her gift. He seemed to really have a keen sense of the tradition and magic of the lucky bean. He told her that he would always keep it with him as he traveled.
As George finished the story, a big smile came over my face. You see, I too have a "lucky bean". Directly from Africa. Here is my lucky bean story.
Many years ago I went to repair a telephone line in a condo building in down town Salt Lake City. As I rang the doorbell, a small man answered. He was so hunched over, he had to tilt his head to the side as far as it would go, and then look at me out the corner of his eye. His wife soon appeared to help him. He later explained that he had broken his neck years ago and couldn't straighten his posture.
"Come in, come in" he said. "So good to see you. We've been waiting for you".
As I entered the room, I saw that it was decorated with very cool African items. Statues, pictures, wooden masks, spears etc. They were everywhere!
"Looks like you have been to Africa once or twice" I said."
A big smile came over the old mans face. You could tell I'd hit a nerve. Mr. Evan Wright explained that as a nineteen year old young man, he was one of the very first missionaries from his church to be sent to the African continent. He also explained that he had been back to visit every year since. Nineteen years old at his first visit, and probably in his seventies or eighties at the time of my visit in their home. You can do the math.
As I worked to repair their telephone problem, he told me many stories about his experiences as a missionary. I could tell by some of the stories that Africa in those days was a very primitive and wild place, As he explained, many wild animals would consider humans to be a tasty meal, and he and his companion were so far out in the bush, it would be days before anyone even knew there had been a problem. Whatever village you were visiting at sundown, you stayed for the night in the relative safety of the village compound and close to the fire. Necessary tradition.
Many stories later Mr. Wright asked me if I was married and if I had children. I told min I was married and had three children. "Honey, go get the lucky beans," he said to his wife.
As his wife went for the box, Mr. Wright told me about the traditions of the lucky bean. He explained that before he left to come home from his mission in Africa, he purchased 5,000 lucky beans. In those days the amount of money he paid for those lucky beans could have purchased a new automobile upon his return to his home town. He explained that he had set a goal to distribute those 5000 lucky beans to new friends he had made in his lifetime and he wasn't going to die until they were gone.
I can't imagine spending that much money, especially as a 20 year old young man, on lucky beans instead of a new car. Shows you how smart Mr. Wright really was. What I would bet is, he had (has) no idea what an impact he would have on the lives of the recipients of those lucky beans. I am certain he has no idea of the impact he has had on my life. He simply couldn't.
Mr. and Mrs. Wright gave me five beans, one for each member of my family.
I'm certain Mr. and Mrs. Wright are both gone now. They were very old when I met them many years ago.
I want you and them to know of the significance their gift to me has been in my life. A simple, hand made little bit of tradition, given to a new friend. Something almost unheard of in our complicated and hurried world these days.
There is something magical about lucky beans. Maybe it's because of the heartfelt spirit of friendship that the beans are given. Maybe it's because they come from the African continent. Maybe it's because of the talisman spirit of those who made them. All I know is there IS something magical about my lucky bean.
I believe!
Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Wright. I will never forget you.
December 13, 2008
It has been a tough time for my family as of late. My sister Judy passed away on November 22 after a long and courageous battle with cancer. I (we) miss her every day. Without going into detail, and to understate, Judy has had a rough time. Cancer is ugly. IT SUCKS!
I am proud I am Judy's brother. I'm so thankful my sister was the kind of person she was. She was so kind, so sweet, and such a good person. Judy worked hard in her career and in her retirement, took care of my father and mother until their passing. She volunteered so much of her time to others. She donated money to several organizations when she really didn't have all that much extra. She was just a sweetheart. Sixty four years old was too young. The world is a smaller place without Judy. I LOVE YOU.
October Vacation
In October, my wife Debbie and I went to New England to see the leaves and spend some time with a friend of ours that lives in Maine. We flew into Boston, rented a car, then headed to our hotel. We spent a couple of days seeing the sights in Boston, then headed north into Maine. We spent a few days in Maine, then a few in New Hampshire and a few in Vermont. From Vermont, back to Boston and home. All I have to say is GPS technology is fantastic!!! I thought it would be a good time to buy a GPS for the car and it was. With no agenda, we just typed in the next place we wanted to go and took our time getting there. SWEET! Photos just don't do justice to New England in the fall (my photos anyway), But here are a few.
2008 Family Vacation
July 12, 2008
We went on a family vacation to Island Park, Idaho. Our three children, our son in law and our two grand daughters were all there.
We rented a cabin near Mac's Inn that was the perfect size. Everyone had their own bed and even their own bedroom.
We had a great time. We went to Yellowstone (I had forgotten how beautiful that place is), floated down the river, played Wi, the boys and I took tons of pictures, and I even read a book, something I have'nt done in a long, long time. It was very nice, for me at least, to relax, enjoy my family and recharge the batteries. Getting out of the heat was nice too.
Here are some photos
I sincerely hope we made some good memories for our kids and grand kids. As I get older these memories of family time together become so much more important. I mean, family time has ALWAYS been important, but now it just seems even more so. I guess that's typical to feel that way as a person gets older and realizes the shortness of time. Thank you all for being there. Lets do it again soon, OK kids?
July 10, 2007
Africa
How do I explain to someone how meaningful and life changing our trip to Africa was?
I don't,,, I simply can't.
First an overview. This could take a while, so stop right now and go get yourself a cold drink. Relax. Breath deep.
Africa is the most amazing place I have ever witnessed. The trip there probably took a year off my life. The hardships the people must endure there are immeasurable. The pollution and filth in the large cities, the corruption in government, the POTHOLES, no streetlights, no running water, not even clean water to drink, no electricity, no plumbing, no shoes for almost all the children, not enough to eat. All of this, and for two old, soft Americans, just the flights to get there,,,,,
But the people! The rural landscape! The wildlife!
But mostly the people!
Our team consisted of 19 people, all women except myself and one other man, and he, like the rest of the team was MUCH younger than my wife and I. We were the parents, maybe even the grandparents of the group. We visited 17 schools while in Africa. We taught "square foot gardening", basic hygiene, tooth brushing, AIDS/HIV awareness and prevention. Our team purchased 8,000 toothbrushes and gave one to each student we taught. We ran out however and had to buy 4,000 more.
Square foot gardening is a gardening technique utilizing compost instead of soil and much can be grown in a very small space. We actually built some of these at the schools so they could grow some food for the children to eat during the day. As it is now, the children are in school from 7:00 0 - 8:00 am until usually 4:00 to 5:00 pm. You add the time it takes for the children to walk, YES WALK, to school (sometimes several kilometers) and it makes for a long day without anything to eat. What they get now, if anything at all, is a cup of porage. Hunger is still a problem for the children. They value their education so much there.
Seeds are like gold to the men in Kenya and Uganda. These men lined up in a huge line to get just a few seeds we had left over from our square foot garden lesson. They were thrilled with just this many seeds each. All had big smiles.
We handed out several thousand toothbrushes. If I gave you a new car, you would not be as happy and as thankful as these children were. Really!
This young man is truly happy, his butt is covered and he has a new toothbrush in his pocket.
This is a typical class room in Uganda (shown are each end from middle)
The Headmasters office outside, inside (dirt floor), and the sign on his door.
There is a program in 14 countries in Africa called "Stay Alive." It was started by the Reach The Children (RTC) organization. It teaches aids/hiv awareness and prevention in the most brilliant way possible. It is spreading like wild fire throughout Africa. This is good! Every school we went had signs, posters, paintings right on the outside of the buildings like these;
I truly believe that if this program continues to spread as it is today, this younger generation in Africa could get the aids problem under control. Everyone thinks aids/hiv is THE problem in Africa. Don't misunderstand, it is a huge problem, but we were told at different hospitals there it is number sixteen (16) on the list. Malaria is the number one killer in Africa. We (not me) outlawed DDT to spray for malaria carrying mosquitoes because it has some bad side effects, but now we are killing tens of thousands of people, maybe millions of people each year, because we can't control the mosquitoes, thus the malaria. This is a huge problem.
We painted a school. This kinda sucked, no, it DID suck. African paint thinner is nasty stuff!
Their parents are gonna hate us. They were white where they weren't supposed to be!
We visited one rural hospital and gave them four suitcases of medical supplies. The director, and staff were thrilled! Two of the best, memorable, touching, things happened while at this hospital. One now, and I'll save my most inspiring, most memorable moments for the end. First some photo's
The lady in the center of the last picture is named Medina. She works for RTC (Reach the Children) in the Uganda office. She went to the hospital with us that day. When we dumped out the supplies on the table, she said nothing as we sorted through the supplies. When we discovered we had about twenty blood glucose meters, (to test for blood sugar) she made a soft comment to Melanie and Debbie that her mother has diabetes and on the rare occasion she tests her blood, she has to take a bus for almost two hours to the nearest clinic to be tested. "She knows when she's not feeling right" she said. Upon hearing that, we reached into the stack, pulled out the best, latest, easiest, model we had and along with four boxes of test strips, gave to her to give to her mother. This humble, hard working, sweet lady was so thankful to us. She just couldn't get over that we would give her mother one of these! You had to be there, but this was a defining moment in my life. I will never forget it.
We did have a couple of days to see the sights. We went to the Maasai Mara, a wildlife park where the Massai tribe live out their days tending to their herds of goats, sheep, but mostly cattle, and trying to keep the lion's, hyenas, and other critters from eating their bank account.
Maasai folks with young part of their heard.
On the left. My buddies! The one in the orange is "Jonathan". He is fifteen years old and goes to school outside the Mara. He wants to become a doctor some day and return to his village to take care of his people. Cool kid! We really hit it off. On the right. The women of the village dance for us.
In my hand is a bag of knives, clubs and a spear I bought as souvenirs. The tribe leader told us the money they get from tourists goes to send the children of the tribe to school, Jonathan assured me this was the case as he is living proof, and were that not the case, he would not be able to attend school as his parents could not afford to send him. After much bargaining, and the money paid, I put my arm around Jonathan's shoulder as we walked back to out van and said, " you guys ripped me off didn't you. You killed me!" He just smiled the biggest smile and said, "yeah, we're pretty good at that." I don't feel at all bad that I got "ripped off" knowing the money really does go toward education.
I do feel bad that all of our souvenirs were stolen! (see epilogue please)
Cheetah right after a kill. This dude was very close to us, VERY CLOSE!
L to R top to bottom Zebras, this male lion was very close to us too, did not use a telephoto lens for this shot! Elephants on the move, crested crane, ya'll don't want to get too close to this big boy, we never could get close to the giraffe's, AND YES, HE IS DOING WHAT YOU THINK HE'S DOING.
My wife Debbie and I traveled to Kenya and Uganda, each for a week. We went with an organization called Reach the Children. We went to do humanitarian service there. We took our anti-malaria pills, our cameras, our bottled water, our donations, our good intentions, and we went. We went for an adventure. We went to "save the world!"
Little did we know it was us to be saved.
Africa changed our lives. We both agree that outside of our marriage of almost thirty years, and doing our best raising our three wonderful children, this was THE most defining, most rewarding, most meaningful thing we have done in our entire lives. We are changed. We can't tell you how we're changed, you will have to do what we did and see for yourselves. Yes, It's that complicated.
Did we make a difference? Don't know. I think so because we taught and contacted so many people, but it's hard to say. With that in mind; The Starfish Story.
A young boy walks down the beach every morning after the tide has receded, tossing stranded starfish back into the water. An old man sees him doing this for several mornings and then approaches the boy and says. "Young man, you will never make a difference, there are literally thousands of these starfish that are stranded, you just can't possibly make a difference." The boy reaches down, picks up a starfish, tosses it into the ocean, then looks at the old man and says, " I made a difference to that one."
We went to Africa with some of the best people our country has to offer. (See epilog please) I know, I know, there are hundreds of thousands, millions, of great people in the United States of America. We were with some of the best, the most giving people I have ever seen. In closing, this story sums up and defines our entire trip.
While visiting the hospital in rural Uganda, we visited the maternity ward. There we found several mothers with brand new babies. You need to understand that this place seemed to me like just a place to come to not have your baby at home. Not a lot of doctoring and nursing going on here. One of the women was lying on a bed with a vinyl mattress with no sheets. If you want sheets in the hospital, you need to bring your own, because the hospital can't afford them. She had a light blanket over her. We passed out our new born kits that we brought from America to all of the other mothers there and toward the end of it all I saw members of our group gathered around this particular mothers bed. Being one of only two males in the room, and feeling a little out of place anyway, I watched from a distance. Turns out this lady's husband dropped her off to have her baby. He told her he would come back the next morning. He never came back. She had her baby C section the day before. She was lying there with NO clothes for her OR her baby, both were naked with just a light blanket over them, the woman's clothing bloodied from child birth and thrown away by the hospital. This woman and her baby had literally nothing, no food, no clothing, nothing! The baby had no diaper and had soiled itself and the mother. The women in our group took out the hand wipes, towels, anything they could use and began to clean the mother and baby off. Then they dressed the baby in diapers, gown, socks and a hat, from one of the new born kits we had, and presented this little one back to it's mother. Then, two of our team members that had tights on under their skirts, took off their skirts and laid them beside the mother, another gave her an extra shirt, then another shirt appeared. One girl asked if the woman had any underwear, she said no. Three of the women in our group went into the restroom and removed their underwear and gave to that lady. For us Americans, that may seem quite odd. Some may even find it disgusting to give someone "used" underwear. However, let me assure you, when you have literally nothing, no clothing period, no food, no home, and no one to love you and take care of you, "used" underwear along with other used clothing was nothing short of a miracle to this woman.
These young women of our team displayed to me that day the most basic, elemental, fundamental, unselfish, act of giving I have ever seen in my life. They literally gave the clothing off their own bodies to a stranger to make her life better. I'm sure I will never witness anything like it again in my life.
I am changed.
Three starfish were thrown back into the water that day. The woman, her baby, and me.
Epilogue
August 12, 2007
When we boarded the plane in Entebe, Uganda for our return flight home, I had an uneasy feeling. The pessimist in me turned out to be right this time. Things had just gone to perfect for something bad not to happen. When we arrived in Zurich, I asked the lady behind the ticket counter if she could see if our luggage had made it to Zurich. It had not. But, she assured me, sometimes it gets put on a different plane and such, because Zurich was not our final destination. "Don't worry." Well, I (we) did and it turned out to be a legitimate one. We filed a missing luggage form in Las Vegas and waited. Waited, called, waited, tried to understand the voices of the United Airlines baggage claim personnel. India, Pakistan, Hell, who knows! Waited, called,,,,,,,. One of the two bags was found two weeks later and sent to our small airport in St. George. It had been plundered and all of our souvenirs and much of our other things had been taken. Stolen! The other bag has never been found.
Over a month after our trip ended, I returned home from a particularly horrible day at work, to find on our door step a box from one of our team leaders, Melanie. She had written a note inside explaining how she had heard about our souvenirs being stolen and she wished to share some of her souvenirs with us. There were many items in the box, and as my wife and I took each one out, the tears of gratitude and love for Melanie flowed down our faces. We could not believe someone would share their precious memories of their trip with us. One of the items she sent to us is a nativity scene carved out of ebony. Instead of putting it with our other Christmas decorations as we would have done with the one we had purchased, "Melanie's" nativity scene is now displayed on our fire place. We will think of Melanie until Christmas, then our thoughts will turn to the true meaning of the Christmas season, the same thoughts we had as we opened Melanie's gift to us.
Melanie, Thank you. You ARE my hero. When I grow up, I want to be just like you. We love you!
May 27, 2007
Blackberries
If you've raised blackberries and raspberries, you know what a tangled mess can grow up. Tiny treasures of purple and red gleaming amongst dead canes and grim thorns. When you're new to berries, all that growth looks productive. But in time, you realize that a lot of it is just clutter. Non productive sprouts and worthless dead canes have long since stopped being useful. If left too long, the clutter and thorns make it almost impossible to enjoy your garden, to pick the fruit.
I've been doing a little inventory of my life lately and I must admit; I have a "tangled mess" growing up. I have "worthless sprouts", "dead canes" and "grim thorns."
Don't misunderstand. I have a good life, no, I have a great life! My garden is abundant.
I have a wife that I love and respect more every day. I simply can't imagine my life without her. I think she loves me, otherwise she'd have long since left. If it weren't for my snoring and flatulence, I'm quite sure she would love me even more. I have three kids that are all good, honest, hard working, contributing people. They are on their own and doing noble things. I have other family members that share love with me. I have a handful of friends worthy of the name, and many acquaintances that are not. I have a wonderful home and toys, luxuries to be sure.
No, my "tangled mess", is not outward. It is inside. It's stuff like patience, tolerance, understanding, compassion, empathy, forgiveness, kindness and the like. Human emotions are so complicated sometimes. I just hope to be able to prune the "dead canes", the "grim thorns" and "worthless sprouts" from my life, so that everyone, including me, can better enjoy my garden, and pick more fruit.
In the words of good 'ol Popeye,,, "I yam what I yam"
(But working to get better) My life is still.............
April 21, 2007
"The Happiest Place On Earth"
I had just resigned myself to be the pack mule on our trip to Disneyland. I was that, but I also had a great time! There was so much more. Amusement parks, even Disneyland, just are not my thing, but spending time with my family is my thing, and what a wonderful trip I had. I think (hope) we all did.
Now, this is not an advertisement for Disneyland, but I have to admit, I do seem to think this could possibly be "the happiest place on earth."
Disneyland is a place for kids. My grand daughter Abby who is now at the ripe old age of 8,,,,,MONTHS, loved Disneyland. I saw old folks, no, old kids, not even able to walk any more being pushed around in wheel chairs. There were young kids, old kids, short kids, black kids, kids with no legs, fat kids, blonde kids, white kids, grandma kids, Asian kids, dad kids, sick kids, Mexican kids, tall kids, red headed kids, French kids, kids both young and old with every type of disability you can imagine.....and every one of them had smiles on their faces.
Everyone behaved themselves. When one of the Disney characters came out to greet and sign autographs, a line magically formed. No pushing, shoving, butting in line. Everyone just waited their turn. Everyone was very polite too. With that many people walking and gawking bumps happened. "I'm sorry", "Excuse me please", "Pardon me" was common.
One of the most amazing things I observed is that in three days of being at Disneyland, I only heard a hand full of kids crying. There had to be literally thousands of little kids there in those three days, but I only heard a few cry.
I know why. I heard one dad ask his little girl just after they had a picture taken with Mickey Mouse," Is it time for another treat? Do you want cookies this time?" She clapped her hands, jumped up and down, and squealed "YES, YES." Off to see what wonders are around the next corner, eating cookies! That's why.
The happiest place on earth! Where young and old wear their Mickey Mouse ears, eat junk food, behave themselves, live and laugh out loud!
And in the middle of it all, the Virginia Tech shooting.
I just don't know.
April 12, 2007
WE'RE GOING TO DISNEYLAND!
April 6, 2007
"Lemomade"
"LEMOMADE 25 SENTS" the hand painted sign said.
Hell, I had to stop.
Two kids, boy and a girl, probably brother and sister, had set up quite a little "lemomade" stand.
Normally you see some influence of a mom at these stands. Not at this one. These two were on their own! That should have been my first clue.
Following the advice of my favorite author Robert Fulghum, to "stop at every lemonade stand you see," I pulled over got out of the truck and found out everything he said about "lemomade" sellers years ago in his book still holds true today. Except the price.
"Twenty five cents huh? Isn't that a little steep?" The boy just shrugged his shoulders. Now twenty five cents wouldn't necessarily be steep if the kids weren't selling it in shot glasses. (dixie cups) "Is it cold?" I ask. The girl says "it used to be a couple of hours ago, but I'm not sure now." Whatever. "I'll take two" I said. I ceremoniously drop two quarters from about two feet high so they can see them drop. Both smile big smiles. Then the boy pours two shot glasses (dixie cups) about 1/2 full. "Geeze for buying two don't I get a little more for my money?" I ask. The girl reaches over and smacks him and says "fill'em up you dummy." He does.
By now there is another customer in line behind me and I don't want to hold up business, so off I go with my two shot glasses in one hand, fishing my pocket for my keys with the other. I walked around the truck and as I reached the drivers door I take a small sip of this "lemomade".
WHAT THE @&^%$*^!!!!
Bad decision.
This stuff would take the paint off my truck and melt speed bumps in the road! Looking into the shot glass I can clearly see the florescent yellow syrup they were calling "lemomade".
These kids were obviously beginners. They had not yet figured out how to water down their product to boost profits. They will.
After my vision cleared and I caught my breath again, I got into the truck, set my shot glasses in the cup holders and looked over just in time to see the boy drop the small spoon used for mixing this toxic stuff into the mixing picture. No problem, he just rolls up his sleeve, reaches all the way to the bottom and fishes it out. I thought the next customer was going to pass out cold. It was a lady wearing a business suit, high heels, and driving a white Mercedes Benz. She obviously knew the kids. Women in white Mercedes' dressed like that are not your typical lemonade stand customer. They should be though.
To her credit, she just dropped her quarter in, took her shot glass, and headed for the safety of her Benz. We shared a glance, both shook our heads and laughed. We got our moneys worth.
"Hey, your sign is spelled wrong." I said just before I drove off. "I know, but we ain't got any more paint to make a new one." the boy said.
Yup, nothing has changed.
I waited till I got out of sight, pulled over and dumped out my fifty cents worth of,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,whatever that was. Didn't sleep much that night either!
You just haven't lived till you've stopped at a dozen or so lemonade stands and poked around a bit!
March 2, 2007
What color are your mothers eyes? No...really.... WHAT COLOR ARE YOUR MOTHERS EYES? I'll bet most of you don't know, can't even remember, or never knew at all. When this question was asked of me, I just said "green". Oh they were green all right, but I had no idea how beautiful they were until I took the time to LOOK.
By that time mom was totally blind from the ravages of diabetes and I was just a blurry shadow to her. I looked though. I looked into her eyes and I saw what color they were. I to this day remember not only the color, but the lines, the dots, the waves, everything. It's a precious memory now. Mom has been gone for almost six years. While you still can, look into your mothers eyes. Look into your mothers eyes, your fathers eyes, your husbands, wifes, sons, daughters, friends.....While your looking, tell them how much you care....while you still can.
February 9 2007
I don't read the obituaries! Never have, never will, just for reading sake. Oh, if I know someone who has passed on I will read, but never just to read. Why then did I read this obituary of a man I have never heard of on a beautiful Saturday morning in February?
Robert ........ ........
"Robert ...... ...... passed away peacefully at his home in ........February 7, 2007. We thank God for the gift of experiencing this loving man in our lives. As he grew older, he became ever gentler, more forgiving and wise." On and on.......lots about his service to our country in WWII as a United States Marine. Obviously, he and his family were (are) very proud of his service to our country. I am proud of him too.
"As he grew older, he became ever gentler, more forgiving and wise."
I do hope the same can be said about me.
(ATTENTION),,,,,Robert sir, thank you. May you rest in peace,,,(SALUTE)