"Trophy Bucks, Coyo-dogs and Bozo the Clown...

After nineteen years of serving my country with the United States Navy in various places all over the contiguous forty-eight, I headed back home to Texas to serve out my final four years.

When I left, in 1976, Texas was a one-of-a-kind place. When I got back, I realized Texas was still a one-of-a-kind place, only different this time. They say, “things come and things go” and that’s true about any place, even Texas. I came back to a Texas that had a state lottery. I bring that up because I remember as a young man hearing the politician’s vowing to never let that happen in the Great State of Texas. But things change and some things came to Texas and some other things left.

One of the things that went away were the laws in place that to us, were ordinary and every day happenings back then. The “Blue Laws” had gone the way of the “ice box”, the Model T and hand cranked telephone. These laws were in place to prevent folks from purchasing certain “labor” devices on the Sabbath, or Sunday. You couldn’t buy pots and pans, or eight track tapes or even panty hose. I still haven’t figured the panty hose one out. But none-the-less, those aged, almost Mosaic-seeming laws went to the wayside.

But one thing that disappeared that I wasn’t expecting, were all the friends I grew up with. I guess I just thought they’d all stay right there in that little Central Texas hamlet and work the peanut farms, dairies and pecan groves until they died. But like me, the biggest portion of them moved to the Metro-mess (Dallas/Ft.Worth) or other cities nationwide and got married and settled down.

Why is that so monumental in my mind? Well, I’m a deer hunter and all of the folks I knew with deer hunting land had moved away. I know that sounds trivial, but I can remember those high school days of hearing my friends say “I got an eight point out at Beattie” or “took a nice ten point on grandaddy’s land in Hico”. They are all gone. But not to fret. There are other alternatives for us hunters that don’t want to buy into the “country-club” deer lease programs.

First and foremost, The Impulsive Texan is a thrifty-minded soul and can’t see putting out $750 per gun to go hunting. Second of all, The Impulsive Texan holds a position in a local government that hasn’t seen a pay raise in, count-em, four deer seasons. Yep, four years with no increase in pay, but inflation hasn’t stopped moving. But on the positive side of that, I have an amazing job in a great town. Thank you Lord, for the blessings you bestow on me.

The alternatives I speak of are the public hunting lands that we as Texans and Americans have access to…for now. We have the National Parks, the Corp of Engineers properties, the State of Texas Type II lands and the National Forest Service, of which, the LBJ National Grasslands are a part of. There are two National Grasslands and both are wholly contained within the State of Texas. God bless Texas.

My wife and life and hunting partner, Terri, have kind of adopted a small parcel of the Grasslands that we frequent quite often. It’s only an hour away, it’s small and loaded with live oak trees and the native Texas grasses that the lands derived their name from. It’s a beautiful, peaceful place and we love going there.

There are advantages and disadvantages though to hunting public property, but for us, the Grasslands is all advantages. There aren’t a lot of deer there, but guess what there aren’t a lot of either? Hunters… So even though we don’t see many trophy bucks or the masses of deer that private leases hold, we get something better and that’s privacy and safety.

Each year Terri and I enjoy time away between October 1^st and the last weekend in January, by going to the Grasslands with hopes of harvesting a “public domain animal”. And each year, even though we see deer, there is always some reason why we didn’t harvest an animal. Usually it’s bow season and the animal is 75 yards away, or it’s after November 1^st and you can’t harvest a doe and they are the ones that walk within roping distance of you. It’s usually quiet, uneventful and peaceful up there in our little hunting hamlet. But all of that changed this weekend. Yeah, it was one of those weekends.

On most weekends up there, we rarely see a soul, but this Saturday morning, we saw three souls we wish we hadn’t. It’s a cool, breezy, Saturday morning and I’m somewhere in between the state of sleep and being awake. I’m sitting in my chair, head bobbing, when suddenly I swear I dream that someone is whistling a tune. Well, it turns out, it wasn’t a dream. I open my eyes and to my right, I see a young man, walking along in a yellow safety vest, whistling his favorite tune with a cup of coffee in his hand. I seriously don’t believe what I’m seeing. He’s on the other side of a stand of trees and suddenly makes a left like he’s going to come into the clearing that I’m watching over. Like Hades he is! I stand up and put my hands up in a gesture of, “What in the name of green-horn stupidity are you doing”. He immediately saw the orange vest and my .50 caliber Wolf Black Powder rifle that was pointed in his general direction and quickly melted back into the trees. At the same time, my cell phone lit up. It’s Terri screaming at the top of her lungs “Who the h#11! are those idiots that just walked through my hunting site???? I told her that I had no idea and she said they disappeared into the woods and thankfully we didn’t see them again the entire weekend. I think they got the message.

Feeling the morning hunt was pretty much ruined, I headed to the van to get something to eat and for a bottle of water. I’m sitting in the van, munching on the homemade mixture of nuts, seeds and other goodies, when movement catches my eye to the right. Coming down the trail, exactly the one that I take in and out of the woods, was what appeared to be a dog. Harmless enough, right? Well it gets to the barbed wire fence that I had just crawled under not ten minutes before and starts sniffing. I know it smells me, but usually domestic animals don’t hesitate so long on the human scent.

I then realized, this dog is probably a ferrel coyo-dog or a mut hybrid coyote-dog that came to be when a wild coyote and a domestic became pretty close friends. I had never seen one before, but in all appearances, it looked like someone’s cattle dog was lost or it had been dropped off on a desolate county road. I sat and pondered a minute or so if this indeed was a coyo-dog. As it circled the van in search of whatever she had scented, she stopped right by the driver’s door, where I was sitting enjoying a snack. Now most quality cattle dogs are the breeds that have off-color or multi-colored eyes. But I instantly knew the little lady wasn’t a domestic dog by the copper-colored eyes that I had seen many times before on coyotes. She was a coyo-dog and she was hungry.

Since she didn’t seem interested in leaving the area where the scent of food was, I pulled my pistol from under the seat, chambered a round, grabbed a large piece of jerky and slowly opened the door to find out if this was the victim of a heartless owner or an actual coyo-dog. Well, it didn’t take long to figure that out. She immediately bolted and ran for cover in the woods across the County Road. She stayed at what she thought was a safe distance and wouldn’t even react at all to my endless “Here puppy, puppy, puppy” beggings. I laid the jerky on a piece of concrete that was holding up a road sign, grabbed my things and went back into the woods to my stand.

At nightfall, I headed back to the van and the jerky was gone and the little Coyo-dog was in her spot across the road 45 – 50 feet away. She didn’t move as I put up my gear and headed down the trail to find Terri. Before I left, I put another small piece of jerky on the concrete and headed out.

Of course the jerky was gone by the time we got back to the van some 20 minutes later and I could see her eyes glowing when I shined the flashlight at her as she lay down on the little hill across the road. But no amount of whistles, calling or motions to “come here girl”, by me or Terri, worked to get her to come closer. So I put out another small piece of jerky and headed back to the hotel. The next day, when I thought the day couldn’t get any stranger, it got stranger and in a big hurry too.

It was Sunday afternoon and Terri and I are back in our stands, hoping to see some straggler deer walking around in the afternoon. What happened next defies all explanation and it could ONLY happen to me. Once again let me say, there are advantages and disadvantages to hunting public land.

As I sat quietly, the sound of a circus-clown horn suddenly pierces the afternoon air.You know the ones they have on the little cars they drive into the main arena??? Yeah, that kind of horn!!! What the???? Seriously???? As I am sitting there not believing what I’m hearing and trying to separate confusion and insanity, that horn blew on and on and on. I’m thinking, what in the name of creation is Bozo the Clown doing in the woods, right in the dead middle of deer season??? Turns out, the house next door to the Public Hunting Land was having a birthday party for either Junior or Suzy and Bozo the Clown and part-time Deer Scatterer was the main attraction. I can honestly say, I exercised more sound judgment in that moment than I ever have in my adult life. I came with in mere seconds of being guilty of Capital Clown Murder in the First Degree.

But a bigger disappointment than being treated to a circus act in the middle of hunting season happened next. I had been in my hunting blind, in the same place for two years, with never seeing an animal to harvest, except those of course, that I couldn’t at the time due to the hunting rules. Each weekend I would see the animals passing through the woods in a thicket about 75 – 100 yards to my left but it wasn’t clear enough to squeeze off a shot. So I decided Sunday afternoon to get a little closer and leave my blind for the last hunt of the weekend. I had settled in to the new spot and was waiting for nightfall to come and hopefully I would see a deer close enough to take. What happened next was absolutely amazing.

I was sitting in a crouched position with my rifle propped up on a “trigger stick” and it was pointing off to my left. Suddenly, off to my right I hear movement. I look slowly to the right and it’s a small, three-point cull spike buck and it’s right there! When I say right there, I mean right there. I was crouched under a cedar tree and it was at the edge of the limbs, not 11 feet away. I’m in camo and it’s getting dark, so the little guy never saw me. But, there was one big disadvantage to this situation, he’s so close that if I swing my gun around, he would be gone before I could pull the hammer back. Also, if he knew that a human was around, he or his older brothers, uncles and granddaddy would never come back. So, I sat and watched this encounter unfold for at least 10 – 12 minutes. He gingerly made his way out from around the tree, but he never would clear enough for me to get the gun in to position for a shot. He must have sensed something was wrong, because he stopped for just a split second, looked straight into my eyes, made an about face and slowly disappeared into the woods from where he came. After that, I gathered up my gear and headed to the van to come home.

I went on down the trail to help Terri get her stuff packed and to the van and the first thing she tells me is, “I saw him, he was here”!!! I knew immediately “who” she was talking about. We have an old, devious buck out there that we have fondly named “Ole Number Seven”. He’s probably a 12 point or more and has been around for possibly 7 – 9 years or longer. That’s a pretty long life for a buck.

Terri commences to tell me the story of how he came to the edge of the clearing, but would never step out far enough for her to get a shot off. He stayed in the trees and didn’t give her a chance to shoot. That seems to be the story of our hunting trips.

I asked her, “which way did he come from”? She answered, well, he came from the grassy area right in front of your stand, I was wondering why you didn’t shoot at him. Oh wait, you moved tonight, didn’t you”? I felt the nausea move over me instantly like a blanket. I moved away from my hunting blind and the king of the woods walked within 35 feet of where I was sitting? Seriously? I needed water, I needed to sit, I needed to throw up. I couldn’t believe I missed out on the deer of a lifetime, because I grew impatient. Seasoned hunters will tell you, “If you see deer coming through an area, sit tight and be patient, you will get a trophy deer”. Well, I guess I need a little more seasoning… maybe a little seasoned salt rubbed into the wound would help right about now. I still can’t believe I broke a cardinal hunting rule.

As we walked back and to get my mind off of Ole’ Number Seven, Terri and I were talking about the coyo-dog that I had now named “Tramp”. We had gone to a little diner for breakfast earlier in the day and picked up a can of dog food. I had given it half of the can earlier in the day and as we were leaving, I put the rest out for Tramp hoping she would find someone else to feed her, because we couldn’t come back for at least two weeks.

We drove back to Decatur reliving all of the weird things that happened that weekend and were having a good laugh about them as we pulled into a combination 24 hour fast food/bathroom/gas and national fast food chain restaurant/gas station/restaurant. Yeah, one of those places. I headed to the ordering line and Ms Terri headed to the ladies room. When she came back, we ordered two combo meals, staples of any large, national chain of fast food restaurants. This is a can’t fail plan, right? Wrong.

It’s been a long time since I’ve eaten at this place, but the patty on my burger was about the thickness of piece of bologny. It was supposed to have this wonderful char-broiled flavor, but I swear I didn’t taste the meat at all. Terri was just as disappointed with her order. She got the “Jr” version of what I ordered and when we got to the table, I thought she’d ordered a breakfast biscuit with sausage. The bun was about the same size as a small biscuit and the meat looked exactly like a sausage patty. Just a word to all of my friends, neighbors and family, don’t EVER pass up a What-A-Burger for any other kind of burger, EVER. We choked down a bite or two and gave up and headed to the door.

Now, we didn’t even take the time to change clothes so we’re still in hunting camo from head to toe..hunters, right? As we get to the van, a nice looking, well dressed young man in a starched shirt and docker-type slacks wearing those cute little tassled, loafer-type girlie shoes asked, “Well, did you catch anything”? Awkward silence…I had to hesitate for just a second and replay the question in my mind that he’d just asked. We’re in camo and he asks if we “catch” anything? I can’t tell you how hard it was for me to answer that question. Good judgment finally won out after three seconds of question processing time and I answered “No, we didn’t get a thing” and got into the car.

Now I have to be honest here. The urge to jump into the deep end of the “smart-aleck pool” almost got the best of me. Had it been ten years ago, my answer might have been something like, “Well, there we was. I was sittin’ in my sixteen-foot homemade fishing blind, when off to my left I saw the wake of a deer-fish moving through the grass. I took my trusty “Ugly Buck Stick” and made a perfect cast, five feet in front of him into the tall grass. Since he was in the rut, he immediately pounced on the Deep-Diving Deer Blaster  and gobbled it up. I fought that sucker for nearly ten minutes and at the end, he jumped three feet in the air and slung the bait out of his mouth and disappeared back into the brush”. Here’s your sign buddy, we were hunting! Bill Engvall would have been so proud of me!

Yes, we had a great laugh at that one. As we headed out of town, Terri started searching frantically for her phone. She said “We have to go back. I left my phone in the bathroom or at the soda fountain where I was getting the drinks”. So, 15 miles out of Decatur, we make a U-turn in the median and flew back to town. For ten minutes we looked for that phone, we asked patrons and employees alike if they had found a phone. Nothing, nada, zip…we get back in the car convinced that she’d lost her treasured “Text-O-Master” phone, when she sheepishly looked at me and said, “Uhmmm, my phone was in my upper pocket, I only checked the lower one”… the sound of silence.

I can honestly say I’ve never had a weekend filled with so much action with non-hunting intruders, a touching encounter with a wild animal, missing the buck of a lifetime, Bozo the Clown making a twisted impression, lost cell phones and tassled loafer wearing she men. Could anything else happen to top all of that? As we drove on, I remembered, have to work tomorrow.

Happy Thanksgiving and a very, Merry Christmas!!!!

The Impulsive Texan

"I may not get much done, but I sure am slow"...

Thanksgiving in Texas, 2011

It seems like only yesterday that we were smack dab in the middle of trying to beat the heat of a record Texas summer and drought. Not only were we trying to get through that dry, hot period, we had no thoughts of November 24, 2011.

But now summer has slipped by us for another year and the weather has cooled down and some of us have even received some very welcomed precipitation. The grass has greened up, my Bradford Pear trees have decided it's March instead of November and they have set forth a colorful display of buds and blooms. But make no mistake, it’s the Thanksgiving season and I personally have been waiting all year for this day.

Without a doubt, Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday of the year. But that is strictly because of substance and not meaning. The most meaningful would be Christmas. At Thanksgiving there are no worries about what presents to buy, no ugly sweaters to wear that Aunt Gladys thinks you look so good in or no nieces and nephews fighting over little Billy’s new G.I. Joe with the Kung Fu Grip. No, it’s all about eating, visiting and enjoying the blessings of our lives.

As an eater I get my taste buds ramped up for Thanksgiving starting around October 1st. After all, when October hits, it’s less than two months until the ultimate feast. I have cranberry dreams of hot, juicy turkey, creamy gravy slathered all over my plate and loads of sage dressing piled high. My mouth begins to trickle with anticipation early on for those tempting treats of gastronomical delight.

When the day finally arrives and the guests start showing up, I’m anxiously awaiting the toll of the bell, or whenever Terri tells me to say the blessing. After all, I wear the pants in my house, but only after I’m finished with the laundry. So the call goes out, everyone gathers around and I ask everyone to bow their heads as we give thanks to Almighty God for the feast of abundance we are about to receive. After the blessing and the “amen”, it’s a mad dash for the kitchen to load up on the buffet of seasonal goodies. MMMmmm…there’s Terri’s roasted turkey stuffed with fruit, a wonderfully, moist sage dressing, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes and green beans and potatoes…oh yeah, there are plenty of potatoes. To go with all of those potatoes, there is creamy gravy, corn, rolls, sweet iced tea and a counter full of different pies, cakes and goodies. We all sit and eat non-stop as we visit at the table and talk of blessings and events of the past year.

Later on in the living room, while the family is staring glassy-eyed at the TV trying their best to fight off the Tryptophan groggies and watch as Americas team finds another way to lose, my nose picks up the scents wafting from the kitchen once again. Stuffed to the gullet already, my mind convinces me that it has just enough room for a hot roll, crammed full of turkey, sage dressing and that OH so yummy homemade cranberry sauce. So I sneak to the kitchen with those cranberry dreams playing vividly in my mind, only to find a line forming behind the partially dismembered turkey carcass. Gluttony...the only one of the seven deadly sins that is talked about openly in church or at home.

I pray that everyone has a wonderful and memorable Thanksgiving Day and a very special and Merry Christmas. Seasons greetings to you all from La Puerta del Cielo in Egan, Texas!

The Impulsive Texan

"I may not get much done, but I sure am slow"...

October 31, 2011...a "jumping" night for sure with the Jesse Jennings band

My family, having never been out of the stratosphere crazy for the Halloween tradition, decided to visit the little city of Keene, Texas, which is only two miles up the road from La Puerta del Cielo (my piece of earth). They put on an "alternative" celebration for Halloween, as do most small towns. I heard about "Starfest" in Keene from a friend that lives in Keene and he recommended it highly. So, my wife, daughter and two granddaughters decided to head into town and check out the festivities.

Now remember Keene is a small town with less than 4,000 or 5,000 people and about 3/4 of them attend Southwest Adventist University (SWAU) as students. So when we arrived we were amazed at the turnout, because it looked like all 4,000 residents showed up!

They had an acrobatic group performing, games for the kids, helicopter rides for the bigger kids, a small train for the youngest ones along with all of the games that children enjoy, like throwing the football through the hoop, shooting baskets and Skee-Ball. They also had paint ball shooting put on by the Fire Department and some of the city employees dressed up in costume for the occasion.

Before we ate, all the girls wanted to get their face painted. The Keene Police Department did a great job and they obviously did a lot of painting as evidenced by the number of little girls and not so little girls that were sporting colorful applications applied by the local policemen and women.

For a small town, the food selection was out of this world. They had egg rolls, BBQ sandwiches, nachos, pizza, empenada's, taco's, burritos, and a whole selection of desserts and drinks. The wife and I opted for the chicken and cheese empenada's. They were fantastic. The daughter and her children went for the empendada's and chili-cheese fries, minus the chili and onions.

After we ate, the granddaughters caught a ride on the little buggy train. It took them around the campus of SWAU and back to where they started about 10 minutes later. The girls were giddy with excitement when they returned and obviously enjoyed the ride.

It was going on 8:30 and it was time for the girls to get to bed and ready for school the following day. They left and my wife and I walked around a bit more and being the music fanatic that I am, my ears picked up on some pretty lively live music being played. We walked over and sat down in front of the stage and began listening. The Jesse Jennings band was tight and the sound was reminiscent of the music I grew up with in the '70's, but it had a country twist to it. Sort of like Lynyrd Skynyrd meets Cross Canadian Ragweed with a side of Shooter Jennings thrown in for spice.

We listened to the band until they completed the set and started packing up. I walked over and introduced myself to front man Jesse Jennings and told them how great I thought they sounded. They are a local group out of Fort Worth and worth the visit should you go and see them. And what surprised me is that Jesse grew up in Dublin, Texas, home to the only Dr Pepper plant that still uses Pure Cane Sugar in their recipe and a stones throw away from my hometown of Comanche, Texas.

In closing I'll just say that we had a great time at Starfest and we plan on being back next year, especially if they bring out another band like Jesse Jennings. I've included a link for them so you can check out these guys. So go give them a listen, I think you're gonna like what you hear.

http://www.myspace.com/jessejenningsband




"I may not get much done, but I sure am slow"...

Death, Taxes and Texas Rangers

A good buddy of mine  I worked with for over five years and a heckuva Texas singer/songwriter, Deryl Dodd, updated one of his hits to reflect the current sports mood here in Texas recently.

His song, "Death, Taxes and Texas", was a Top 5 hit in the State of Texas. Well, with the winning ways of the Texas Rangers, ole Deryl decided to update the tune to show his support of the best baseball team in the American League. It's now called, "Death, Taxes and Texas Rangers".

 Take a listen and see what you think. Also, if you see that Deryl ("Double D") is playing anywhere close to you in future, do yourself a favor and go out and catch one of his live shows. He's one of the last of the true Texas Honky Tonk Heroes playing today and he puts on a heckuva show.

Thanks for a catchy tune Deryl!

"I may not get much done, but I sure am slow"...

Colby's Gold

As I write this, I’m reliving an emotional rollercoaster ride I went on, on Saturday and remembering how a single event totally changed my life and my view of life, forever. My emotional meter ranged from extreme guilt, to joy and to sadness all in the course of three short hours. I laughed, I cried and searched my mind for answers to why I was so overtaken with heart wracking emotion.  After the morning was over, I felt as if I had been on a ten mile hike, with a twenty pound backpack, with no water, in the blazing sun. I was completely spent. But in the end, it was one of the most rewarding moments in my life and worth every emotion I went through. The source of that emotion was the Annual Tarrant County Downs Syndrome Buddy Walk at the University of Texas, Arlington. My wife Terri and I were there to support Colby Bannister, a new friend of the family on Saturday, October 15^th.

We know Colby and his amazing family from my wife’s pageant and community service work. Randall and Rhonda Bannister seem to me, to be a new millennium Ozzie and Harriet, the perfect couple, a tall and handsome husband and wife. They are the quintessential pair that other’s strive to be. Malyn Bannister, Colby’s younger sister is the type of young lady that any mother and father would be ecstatic about should their son bring someone like her home to meet them. She’s tall, statuesque and strikingly beautiful. She’s smart, sensitive, talented and driven and just the kind of young lady I’d consider adopting, should the chance lend itself. I guess if the truth be told, I already have in my own way.

The bond between Colby and his sister Malyn is one of awe, wonder and inspiration. The love they share is so evident and one that you just can’t put into words. I don’t know if the word that describes their bond has been coined yet. Colby and Malyn are inseparable.

When we arrived at the campus the Bannister family met us at the signup area and led us over to their display booth while we waited for the event to begin. The entire way over, Colby and Malyn were hand in hand, laughing, joking and hugging. They stood by each other at the booth and many times during the day, they exchanged hugs and brotherly and sisterly gazes that only brothers and sisters understand. I can honestly say I don’t know of another sibling relationship that deep and connected.

Last year, my wife attended a Special Olympics event that was here in the Dallas-Fort Worth area and she asked if I’d like to go. It was a very rare Saturday that I would have free to just sit around and “recharge”, so I jumped at the chance to stay home and relax, so I told her to go and have a great time. I don’t regret many things in my life, because I believe regrets can hold you back and cloud your walk through life. But one of the regrets I have after attending this weekend’s festivities is not attending the Special Olympics event last year and similar events I’ve missed over the years. I won’t miss another if possible.

Yes, my friends, Colby Bannister has Down’s Syndrome. But he doesn’t seem to know. He’s very outgoing and friendly and has a great hunger for life. But to look at Colby, to watch him, to spend time with him and just soak in his greatness, after a while you look right past the obvious signs of his Down’s Syndrome and at the man that he truly is. He loves to sing and dance and compete in sporting events. And one other thing, Colby is a World Champion Olympian. Yes, you read right, your eyes aren’t deceiving you.

Colby went to Greece (yes, Greece) last year to compete in the Special Olympics and “came home with the gold”. He won the gold medal in the High Bar event and also won two silvers and a bronze in other events. One might think that it wouldn’t be hard to win a medal in an event like the Special Olympics. But in the immortal words of Bart Simpson, “au contraire mon fraire!”, the Special Olympics ain’t no cake walk. Remember, this was the Special Olympics Competition held in Greece… the country where the event began centuries and centuries ago? Special needs people from the entire planet were competing. Colby went up against competitors from countries all over the world and was a world class competitor and winner.

Special needs folks don’t have the strength and endurance that “normal” people have, but their spirit of competition and winning is just as big and some would argue, bigger. You won’t see anyone at this event breaking the world record for the discus toss, the javelin throw or the 100 meter dash. But what you will see is the raw, driven hunger to win for no other reason than for winning and competing. How many Olympic competitors do you know that would pass up the huge endorsements just for the sake of competition and winning?

Before the walk began, there were awards given out, pictures taken and a great visit by all. I milled around the crowd and took dozens of pictures of some of the people that have forever changed my life. There was the young teen girl that was chosen Homecoming Queen, and another that was a pageant winner and a young man that is a full-time coach on a high school football team. There was a young teenage girl in the middle of the field, dancing away by herself to the popular song “All The Singles Ladies”. But she wasn’t alone long, because in one of the classiest gestures I’ve ever witnessed, an entire squad of young prep school cheerleaders joined her in the middle of field and asked “do you mind if we dance with you?” They pushed aside any concern of ridicule, embarrassment or teasing that might be brought on by friends to make a total stranger feel happy and wanted, if just for a few minutes. They all were soon moving and shaking as one, to that catchy tune in the middle of that field, without a care in the world. I missed part of the dance, because I had to step behind a dumpster for a minute or so to remove the piece of grass or dirt that had obviously gotten in my eye...

After the pre-walk ceremonies concluded, we stood at Colby’s booth and along with his sister, friends and parent’s, we gave out information about the Special Needs Pageant that Malyn has organized for local children with disabilities and special needs. The green, yellow, pink, blue and orange “glow stick bracelets” that we handed out were a huge hit. The look in those young children’s eyes when they received their bracelet can’t be described. It’s one of those things where, “you’d just have to have been there”.

Finally the time had come for the walk to begin. I believe at last count, there were over 2,000 souls waiting to walk. Groups moved in behind one another as the crowd gathered. The air was filled with electricity and excited voices on this cool, Saturday morning. Children laughed and danced in place to the music. Colby, being one of the walks “superstars” was asked to lead the walk with several of his other “superstar” friends. He proudly displayed his Olympic medals around his neck he had won the year before at the competition in Greece and was more than gracious to anyone that wanted to see and touch them. We were so honored to be asked to walk in front supporting Colby and all of the other children that led the walk.

The walk finally started and off we went. We wound in, out, around and through the University of Texas at Arlington campus. All along the walk photographs of children with Downs Syndrome were prominently displayed right along the route. Fascinating facts about Downs Syndrome were posted beside them. One I recall is that “Over 400,000 persons in America have Down’s Syndrome”. And another read, “The life expectancy for someone with Downs Syndrome has risen from the age of 25 to 50 and beyond since the 1980’s”. There were dozens of fascinating facts posted along the walk and I read each and every one in amazement and joy.

In about twenty minutes, the walk was over. Short, but brisk. People broke up into their groups, grabbed an icy beverage and some food and walked around, lazily visiting the other booths. We went back to the Bannister Family booth and continued handing out bracelets and information for another hour or so. The event was winding down, so Terri and I made our way around the booth saying our goodbyes while hugging and thanking the Bannister’s for allowing us to be a part of this special event with Colby and the rest of the family.

It’s Monday now, the weekend is gone and another work day has begun. But I can’t help but continue reliving the experience I was blessed to attend this weekend with so many new friends. The emotion of that day is still here inside, on the surface and raw, having rode out the entire weekend without leaving. I’ve never, ever in my life thought less of people with disabilities before this weekend, but my awareness of these wonderful babies, children and adults has been raised to new heights and forever changed.  I wondered to myself “What is it that makes it seem like people with Downs Syndrome are just different, in a good way and that they just “get it?”. I finally came to the conclusion these wonderful souls live each day as if it were their last and God doesn't allow the darkness of this world to pollute their wonderful personalities. No one there had an attitude of “feel sorry for me”. It was refreshing and spiritual for me. I truly saw God in the faces of those wonderful children and His presence all around me that morning.

The last thought that crossed my mind as we left the event was one of recollection and joy and I shared it with Terri. I have come to the conclusion that God knows exactly what He’s doing, everyday, all day and throughout time, because after Saturday it came to me, He only made a few perfect people in this world and the rest of us, He made “normal”.

Colby "gittin' down"

Colby and his sister, Malyn with a gorgeous baby

The Homecoming Queen

The young girl and the cheerleaders

Malyn and the beauty queen

Malyn and two baby queens

Terri, Malyn and me...

The Impulsive Texan

"I may not get much done, but I sure am slow"...

Opening day of deer season, 2011...

Oh yeah, it's that time of year again. Time to get out the bow, the arrows, the scent killer, sunscreen, candy bars, bottled water and make sure the I phone has all the latest games and apps loaded. It's deer season.

It's been many years since I've been able to get out there on opening weekend. But this weekend, I was going to get out there no matter what. I had a vacation day that had to be burned by this past Friday or I would lose it, so I took the opportunity and me and my lifetime hunting partner and wife, Terri, hit the road on Thursday night.

We pulled into the Days Inn in Decatur full of excitement and pre-hunt jitters. We unloaded the van and went inside got the room set up and headed out to supper. A side note...if you're ever in Decatur, go to Casa Torres..AMAZING mexican food. I had the Sour Cream Chicken Enchiladas and they were awesome.

On Friday morning we headed out to the lease and cleaned up our hunting areas, got our stands and blinds put up and started "scounting" around to see if anything interesting had happened over the last year. Lots of fresh deer "sign", so it looks pretty promising.

Before I go on, let me define a few things. In my mind, you have your three levels or categories of hunters...1. The Part-Time Hunters, 2. the Highly Interested and 3. the all-out Maniacal, Blood Thirsty Savage, Caveman inspired hunter. I happen to fall somewhere in between # 2 and #3, ok so I'm closer to #2. But my wife, she's the poster child and all in for #3. I've never seen a hunter, male or female like her. She wants to get in the stand by midnight and not leave until the dew starts falling after sundown. There are a few exceptions to that rule though..coyotes yelping and wildcats screaming. But that's fodder for another story.

So, opening morning, we're up by 4:30, dressed and out the door by 5:15. We're only 11 miles from the lease, so we've got plenty of time before sunrise. It's still very dark by the time we get to the stand and since it's the first day of the hunt, my wife asks if I will help her carry her stuff to the stand. I agree, knowing that it's not the stuff she needs help with, but more the safety of her reaching her blind without hearing the aforementioned "coyote and wild cats" yelping and screaming.

I get her set in the blind and I'm off to my tree. Well, I'm sort of off to my tree. I get in the van and drive 1/8 mile down the road so I don't have to walk an extra 1/4 mile into my tree. I get parked, turn off the car and send up a small prayer to keep me and my partner safe this weekend. Well, for some reason my eyes don't cooperate when I urge them to "open".

The next thing I know, I've taken a little cat nap and the sun is up. So I jump out of the van, grab my backpack, my PSE bow and my quiver of arrows. Don't be too impressed fellas at the name of the bow, it's super heavy, has a counter weight on the front about a foot long and was made probably right after the turn of the century. But it's accurate and has a cool camo paint job.

By the time I get to the tree, every deer in Wise County was alerted probably because of the manner in which I entered the woods. I know there isn't a tree, branch or shrub that goes in a straight line from the parking spot to my tree that didn't get snapped, broken or tripped over. By the time I get to the tree the sun is hot, the birds are chirping and the deer that WERE close are somewhere near San Antonio by now.

So I get in the tree and begin waiting out The Mighty White Tail deer. 9:00... nothing...9:30 ... I've now seen a dozen small, yellow butterflies... 10:00...I catch a glimpse of a lizard running up a tree 10:30...a squirrel entertains me for about 15 minutes.

Well, I'm a growing boy, so by 10:45, my stomach is making more noise than my cumbersome entrance into the woods several hours earlier. So I climb down out of the tree and head back to the van for a little food to quieten down my rioting gastric devices...and another quick cat nap.

I get back into the tree at about 11:40 and begin my sit in again. Nothing for six, count 'em, six hours. Except the blazing Texas sun. Of course, my tree faces south and the sun is beating down on my left side. I now look like I went on vacation to some sunny destination but only half of me showed up.

Finally at around 6:50 p.m., I'm about to call it a day and head back to the van. But...what is that? Do I hear Mr. or Ms. White Tail making an entrance? I hear the slow, methodical steps of something moving very slowly to my left and behind me, crunching the brittle leaves in the woods. I S-L-O-W-L-Y turn my head to my left and there she is, Ms White Tail, cautiously making her way into the clearing to hunt for fallen acorns or some other forage.

I slowly clip my bow trigger onto the string of the bow and S-L-O-W-L-Y stand up and turn to the left. I have to do this in partial movements because Ms. White Tail is watching this strange shape twenty feet up in a tree changing shapes with each time she glances up. She finally gets to 15 yards and a good broadside shot with her head down. I pull the string back ever-so-slowly and settle the 15 yard pin at the top of her back. Suddenly a jolt rocks my entire body and I almost lose control of all bodily functions. WHAT THE H&11 WAS THAT????? I had left my cell phone in my front shirt pocket, ON VIBRATE, and my hunting and life partner chose THAT moment to text me saying her crossbow was jammed.

Well, it' all over at that point. My arms are shaking, my legs are shaking and I'm fighting off the almost impossible urge to evacuate from every opening. But I steady myself, put the pin back on her shoulder and release the arrow...THUDDDDD! Two feet below her...Oh great, she zips off into the woods..but wait!!!! SHE STOPS 30 FEET AWAY, WAITS TWO MINUTES AND COMES BACK EVEN CLOSER!!! Ok, i get to redeem myself for a horrible shot. She walks in this time at 10 yards. I again, raise the bow, settle the pin on her and release again...THUDDDD!!! I missed under her by two feet...AGAIN!!!!

Now, this is the same bow that I put five arrows into a 2" group at 20 yards just the day before. What happened I ask myself furiously? I immediately realized that even though it was ten yards, it's also 20' up into a tree and you have to compensate for the radius change of the shot..and I didn't do that. So I had two elementary shots thud between her legs.

So, dejected and defeated by Ms. White Tail, I crawl out of the stand and head to the van. I'm sitting in campe and making small talking with Robert, a long-time family friend and quite honestly a young man that is like one of my own sons, when I hear "AHHH OOOOOOOOOHHH, OOOH , OOOH, OOOOHHHHHHH!!!!!!...A coyote screamed out across the woods, very, very close to my wife's blind. I made and offhanded comment to Robert, that Terri would be calling inside a minute...wait for it, wait for it...and right on time not thirty seconds later, the all-out Maniacal, Blood Thirsty Savage, Caveman inspired hunter, my wife, sends me a frantic text saying "COME AND GET ME NOW!!!"

More to come during the season, so happy hunting in 2011, Texas...


The Impulsive Texan


"I may not get much done, but I sure am slow"...

Friday Night Lights once again...

If you have lived in Texas for any length of time, you know very well that Friday nights beginning in September are all about high school football. And if your team does well enough, that season can stretch deep into the winter. But most of us usually don't have the good fortune of our team going "all the way" down the championship road and so we only get to spend eight to ten Friday nights in the stands cheering on our boys.

My Friday night was spent with a delightful young lady, who I have to admit, was not my wife. No, she's a sweet, young and gorgeous blonde and let me just say, she's more than fond of me. Folks might have a thing or two to say at the age difference, until they knowingly figure out that this ten-year old bombshell is my granddaughter, Cristian.

Ms. Cristian attends grade school in Joshua, Texas and starts making plans with her granpapa weeks and weeks in advance for out "date night" during homecoming week. She inquires about the mum and where we'll eat, if we get to sit on the 50 yard line and most importantly if we have to stay for the entire game. (Insert chuckle).

On this Friday night, the Mighty Joshua Owls would be taking on the Arlington Seguin Cougars for a hopeful homecoming win. As we entered the stadium, you could feel the electricity in the air. The smell of fresh popcorn and nachos blanketed the entire snack area . My date and I had just finished dinner at the local DQ not even five minutes prior, but the smell of fresh popcorn always taps into that primal hunger spot and my mouth immediately began to let me know that my nose picked up the fragrance. It must have hit Cristian too, because she immediately asked for nachos, popcorn, M & M's and a soda. I convinced her that her mind and tummy were having a conflict and we'd settle the fight at halftime.

We took our seats in seats 25 and 26 on Row Q and began to watch the pre-game festivities. The visiting team was at the south end of the stadium warming up and the Owls were at the North end doing the same. The stands were filled with ardent fans shaking empty metal containers with anything from rocks to pennies to see whose side could make the most noise for their team. In front of us, a choir of about 40 - 50 students were busy "warming their pipes" to sing the National Anthem, acappella. The cheerleaders were all huddled together in the end zone working over last minute details on the paper "spirit wall" the players always smash through on their way to the field.

Finally the time had come. The announcer asked all to rise and for the gentlemen to remove their caps and hats in respect to the flag ceremony. After the Navy Junior Reserve Officers had posted the flag, the group broke into a rousing, although very fast paced, version of the national anthem. After they were done, a display of appreciation erupted that set my heart and patriotism afire. God bless America.

The teams took the field and the Joshua Owls won the toss. The crowd was ecstatic and into the game immediately. The Owls marched the ball down almost effortlessly and scored the first touchdown. The stadium erupted into applause and cheer, for the Mighty Owls had drawn first blood.

At the half, the score was 21-14, in favor of the visiting Cougars. The two teams moved up and down the field running, passing, intercepting, tackling and putting forth effort at a level that you just don't see in the National Football League. These kids aren't influenced by multi-million dollar contracts, signing bonuses and endorsement deals. They're influenced by the boys around them, their coaches and fellow students and most especially, their community. Money and notoriety beyond the city limits doesn't concern them tonight. Tonight, they play for respect from the visiting team, family, friends and the community.

Around the latter part of the third quarter, the questions began to come from the tired and weary young lady sitting beside me. "Granpapa, when are we going to leave?" I answered, "when the game is over sweetheart". I absolutely enjoy our yearly get together at the stadium and the time we get to spend together before, during and after the game. It's a time that I get to reflect on how much she matures and grows each year between our dates. She's getting to be quite the young lady.

She is now in the 5th grade and is starting to show interest in school activities. She ran for Student Council, she's joined the choir and is doing as much as she can with the energy she has to do them. She's a wonderful person and I love her dearly. But what amazes me more and more each day, is how she deals with Tourrette's Syndrome and a lower level of disorder in the Autism spectrum called Aspberger's Syndrome that she has to work through. If you were around her for any length of time, you'd begin to see the traits of someone that aren't normally displayed in other children's developmental cycle. But just seeing her from a distance, you can't see anything blatantly obvious. And this child is brilliant. She's always on the honor roll at school, she's in accelerated math and has the memory of a  computer's hard drive.

Miss Cristian and I had another wonderful evening at homecoming this year. But unlike the previous two years, the Mighty Owls of Joshua High School had met up against a mightier opponent. The clock was dwindling down and with less than six minutes left in the game, the score went up to 31-20. I looked over at my date and could tell she was bored out of her little mind, so I told her to get her things and we'd leave. She said, "I thought you said we were leaving when the game is over?". "It is over sweetie, let's go home".

One more year of the sights, sounds and flavors of Homecoming has come and gone. Although our team didn't win, it was a memorable night. Friday Night Lights will always hold a wonderful place in my heart and mind when I get too old to get out and enjoy the real thing. It'll remind me of special times that I was fortunate enough to spend with a wonderful young lady that has entered my life. I pray that one day, she takes her son or daughter or a grandchild out on this most special of all occasions in the fall, here in Texas. Life is all about memories you see. And the more times you can take to make them, the more you'll carry with you in the "golden years". Happy Friday night, Texas.



"I may not get much done, but I sure am slow"...

On this day in 1896, the celebrated “Crash at Crush” occurred 15 miles north of Waco, Texas in McLennan County. As a publicity stunt for the Katy Railroad, two railroad engines were deliberately crashed in a head-on collision at the non-existent town of Crush. Elaborate preparations and extensive publicity brought a crowd of more than 30,000 to witness the event. After a two-mile run, the two engines, the bright green No. 999 and the brilliant red No. 1001, met in a fiery crash. Flying debris killed two people and injured many more. By the nightfall, the site was abandoned. In the early twentieth century, Scott Joplin commemorated the event in hs march, “Great Crush Collision”.

"I may not get much done, but I sure am slow"...

Guacamole!!!!

If you like guacamole, you'll LOVE the song written for it. Watch for the baby with the Mustache...

G-U-A-C-A-M-O-L-E, Guacamole!!!!!

"I may not get much done, but I sure am slow"...