Lady By The Log

 Years ago, probably around 1977, I worked at a Youth Camp in the Piney Woods of East Texas. That summer I met a young man about my age named Tim. For reasons of privacy we will just use his nickname, The Goo. (Based somewhat on his last name.) He was an adventurous guy to say the least. I learned that he liked to hunt, trap, and fish, and that is where this story really begins. He told a group of us about an event he had lived throiugh back in his hometown of Marshall Texas, that made me afraid to venture out in those woods that surrounded the camp for miles. 

He was trapping coons in an area of the town that was known for being a rough area. It was located down a notorious road called "Telephone Road." He said the badest of the bad hung out down Telephone Road. Bad things happened there. That wiwill be evident in his story. One night Goo and another young fella were running their traps down Telephone Road. They left the truck parked and started walking. It was about dusk when they started out, so it would be dark soon. Goo said he was in an area of dense brush and trees when he stepped over a fallen log. He felt something unusual under his foot but it was dark so he brought his other leg over the log and bent down to see what he had stepped on. What he found was a frightening site! He had stepped over the log and directly onto a headless body! 

Goo said he ran back toward the truck and passed his buddy who asked where he was going. He didn't say, but he ran past his truck and all the way to the local Sheriff's house. After informing the Sheriff of what had happened, the two of them jumped into the police car and hurried down to Telephone Road. They were met by other law enforcement personell and started to the area of the log and the body. They found the body and determined it to be that of a female, but without the head they had no clue as to who she was. Darkness was full on by then, so they decided to get a fresh start in the mornng. The next day a squad of law enforcement went back to Telephone Road. Goo went with them. It was Tim who found the head, as fate would have it. It was down a fox hole on the trail. It was determined that the body was that of a young woman who had been missing for a couple of weeks. 

We used to tell the kids ghost stories and tall tales on cookout nights, but this one was true. The older councilors would not let us tell this story for obvious reasons. I don't know what ever happened to Goo. I lost track of him at the end of that summer. I hope he has gotten over the traumatic events on Telephone Road. Here we are, some 50 years later and I still don't like being in the woods or even on a trail after dark!

"Who Is It?"

Did I ever tell you about the time I went to a fortune teller? Not for advice or any of that stuff. I was delivering pizza in college! 

It was a fairly quiet night at Pizza Pro in Searcy, Arkansas, and I had been stuck in the store making and cooking pizzas all evening. I told the boss I needed a break and he said, "OK. Take the next run." I did. It just happened to be to "Sister Helen's Palm Reading And Tarrot". I knew where it was because I had passed it many times delivering. Out the door I went.

When I arrived at Sister Helen's location I knocked on the door as usual. A voice from inside said, "Who is it?" 

Now folks...If I ever had a "Here's your sign" moment in life it was then. But I resisted... Almost. I politely said, "I thought you'd know!"

Needless to say, when sister Helen came to the door she was not amused. Worse yet, she stiffed me on the tip! Heifer!

I didn't appreciate her lack of a sense of humor any more than she appreciated my ability to restrain myself from going full Bill Engvall on her. I never took her an order again. Just as well... I hope she saw me in a dream and felt bad!

The Art Of Life

 All my life people have referred to me as an "artist". I never really considered that to be the case. I'd have to be much better at the craft to call myself by that title.  I was just a guy who liked to draw and sometimes entertain using art. At 66 years of age I still like to draw and entertain. I'm still not an artist. I dabble in caricatures and learning new things, but that's about it. 

When I was in high school I had a teacher named B.A. Morgan who was what I would call a real artist. Then there was another teacher, Butch Wills. He was pretty good, too. Mr. Wills gave me my first paddling in high school! That's another story for another time. 

There were also several students I watched and was intrigued by as they drew and painted, but the best one I ever knew was a young red haired girl named Helen Lowrey.  Lawd have mercy, that girl was talented beyond measure! By our sophomore year she was so far above even the teacher that it was flat out amazing. I wonder what ever became of Helen? Our sophomore year we were fast approaching the East Texas Yamboree art contest and I had painted a bald eagle that I was pretty proud of. Helen, of course, had a painting ready to go as well. It was a seascape done in acrylics. I remember looking at it thinking, "Wow. We are all trying for second place." 

Then it happened. Overnight there was a fire in the art room. I don't remember if they ever determined where it started, but it burned up all the entries we had for the Yamboree contest.  

That was the same school year my dad passed away from cancer. Quickly. Unexpectedly. Gone, leaving a hole in my life. I tried filling the hole with school work, art work, even my part time job at the local grocery store. I loved that job. It helped the most. Unfortunately, all good things come to an end. So it was with my job at Gray's Grocery. I went to work for the summer at a Christian youth camp I had attended years before. It was something I needed right then. That summer I fell in love with Camp Deer Run and I fell in love with God. I realized that He was the only thing that could truly fill the hole in my heart. Here I am, some 59 years later, still loving that magical place we simply call "CDR". I even met the girl I would later marry  there at camp! Tell me God ain't good!

That summer I learned a lot about life. Mostly I learned that God is in control, no matter what. I am convinced that that summer at camp is what gave me what I needed to move on with life without my dad. It wasn't easy, but it was possible. 

Just as Helen was the best artist I ever met, God is the greatest healer I have ever come across, bar none. She entertained me. He sustains me! I look around at His handiwork and see the greatest artist and craftsman imaginable. More than that, I see the God who pushed me to make it when I wanted to give up. I wanted to crawl into a hole and just stay there. That's just a part of life, not the whole of life. He is the whole of life. The creative genius behind the universe. The artist of life. 

Summer of '68.

 It was the summer of 1968. One year removed from the famed "summer of love". I was 8 years old and having a ball. Litterally. I had just started PeeWee League baseball in Gladewater, Texas. I would go on to play for several years and leagues. PeeWee, Little League, Pony League and Mustang League. I LOVED it! That being said, I feel like I should point out that I was only average at best, and that took a while to get to. I never even made the conversation when the powers that were were picking All Stars. But I played and had a blast! That summer (68) I could usually be found holding down the fort in right field. Right field, where they sent you if you were just a hair better than the worst player on the team. It didn't matter to me where I played as long as I got the chance. 

I can honestly say I was more than a little distracted standing out there in "outer Monrovia", since there were very few left handed kids to worry about hittng the ball to me. I had to pretty much entertain myself until we went in to bat. And I did so very well I might add.  One particular night will live on in infamy.  Some kid hit the ball off the end of his bat and it came slipping and slopping out to my area. I was oblivious.  It happened to coincide with the passing of the 8:30 Union Pacific Train. I was wrapped up watching the big locomotive pass and never saw the ball or heard the other players yelling at me! The center fielder had to run to right field and throw the ball in. Needless to say, that story has followed me for nearly sixty years. I laugh now, but I was horrified back then when I had to face the Coach and my teammates! Neither of those was as bad as listening to my older brother replay it for me and laugh...and point, too, as I recall! On another occasion,I attempted to throw a runner out from left field. Unfortunately I tried throwing the ball side armed. It had been raining earlier and the ball was wet. You know what happens to a leather ball when it gets wet? It gets slicker than snot on a door knob. The ball flew out of my hand and went straight sideways and out of the ball park into traffic passing on Pacific Street. Talk about embarrassed?! But, as time went on I got better and those mishaps were fewer and fewer.  

By the time I was 17 I had discovered that if I didn't have baseball practice in the afternoon I could pick up a few extra hours at work. That meant more money. That meant more fun. I said "Goodbye" to baseball and thus began the next forty-five years of working full time. It wasn't always fun like baseball, but it allowed me to do things a mediocre baseball player could never do. 

These days my shoulder is shot. Rotator cuff is worn to bone on bone. I can't throw a ball more than 5 feet, and even then it is severely painful. But I will always have the memory of those summer nights in the old ball park. Right field, trains, side arm throws and all. It was a great childhood.

It Sure Is Hard!

I made a deal with someone the other day. My half of the deal is I gotta give up Coca Cola. I love my Coca Cola. The fully leaded kind. None of that sissy Diet Coke for me! I have a long standing love affair with the fizzy drink and it's artificial coloring and sweeteners. For the past 50 years I have enjoyed anywhere from 4 to 20 of them per day. Every day. (The 20 a day was long ago when I was about 18.)  I am surprised my kidneys have not rebelled against me to tell you the truth!

So here I am, now two weeks into this cold turkey cut off. It is haaaaaard folks! I am drinking water from a place in Greenville called The Drop, or Drip, or something like that. It is billed as "alkaline water". Supposed to have a high Ph and other minerals in it and be good for you. So far I can't tell much difference.  It costs about the same as regular bottled water, so I am not complaining. I AM complaining about not having my cold, bubbly fix every day! But it's for a good cause. More than one good cause actually.

I have been needing to lose weight for years. Nothing worked. Fad diets were just that. They didn't work. Fasting didn't do a lot. Some, but not a lot. I even ordered some of the powder drink mix that I once used several years ago to lose. Couple pounds is all I shed. That and forty bucks. So I finally listened to my wife and decided to try giving up the Cokes. They are full of sugar ya know? Yesterday morning I stepped on the scales and I am at 277.1 lbs. Down from 284.4 when I began. That's 7.3 lbs!  I'm happy as a pig in mud with a traugh full of fresh slop!

At the current pace I should hit my desired goal weight of 200 lbs. in about a year. Bummer. A year! LOL. I can do it. I hope to be able to walk more in the coming few months as I lose the extra weight on my knees and hips. I will be joining a new gym that has an indoor walking track. It has many more features as well. I was sold when they told me they had a sauna!! I get two weeks free when I sign up, so I will be signing up this week. Probably tomorrow when I am in Greenville. I am excited to sweat! LOL. I just hope the high heat in the sauna doesn't cause problems with my heart. Wish me luck! 

Meanwhile...I sure could use some icy refreshment in a 12 oz. can. GIT THEE BEHIND ME SATAN, AND QUIT APUSHIN'!

I need Geritol. Make it a double!

 If you know me you know that I am an avid poster of videos on YouTube. (https://www.youtube.com/dannywmeeks) I love creating stuff, so it was only natural that I do it! 

This morning I posted a video that has already gotten a first comment. The comment was sort of unusual and out of left field, as they say. It simply said..."Thanks Grampa."  Grampa???? GRAMPA?! I was stunned for a second or two, then I started to wonder where the person got that idea. I know I am sort of old, at 66, but "Grampa"? Come on man! 

I guess I am technically old enough to be someone's grandfather. I know folks who became grandparents by the age of 40. But I'm still young and handsome!I can't be anybody's "grampa". No. I refuse and refute the guy's claim! 

Now...If you'll excuse me, there is a tall glass of Geritol waiting on me in the kitchen. There may also be some roast left over from lunch if I can find my dentures!

Fee For Stupid

 You may not be aware of it, but "stupid" comes with fees. Today I stopped by the bank to grab a couple of ten dollar bills for my upcoming haircut. As you know, you have to have your driver's license with you to make transactions at financial institutions. That is where the problem started. I turned my wallet inside out and emptied every pocket and opening. My DL was nowhere to be found. I have no earthly idea where it went, but it has most certainly disappeared.

Fortunately, I had my conceal carry license with me which had my DL number and my photo on it. I finished up with the bank lady and headed over to get the haircut. After leaving there I went straight to the DMV to see what my next step was going to be. As I walked into the DMV I noticed a sign that stated "You must have an appointment for business inside." Uh oh... I went on in and I got lucky. They were not busy at all and I was able to fill out a couple of forms and have a seat in the waiting area. I didn't have to wait long before they called me back to the unseen area where the magic happens. Thumb prints, signature, and photos. Then they hit me...FEES! Cost me $11 for being stupid enough to lose my DL!

I didn't argue about the fees, though. I was more than happy to pay the $11 for the right to hold and carry a piece of paper that would temporarily keep me out of jail in the event of a roadside conversation with the Po-Po! Having worked in the jail here in Hunt County, I am well aware that they can and will "run you in" for no DL! I was not interested in that sort of thing. 

So here I sit mumbling to myself about the lost DL and the fact that stupid comes with a fee. If you happen to see my old DL, please toss it in the trash can...Sort of like I did with that eleven bucks!

Have a great weekend! We'll Holler atcha!