Staten to serve as grand marshal for Kingsport Christmas Parade - Kingsport Times-News Online

Staten to serve as grand marshal for Kingsport Christmas Parade - Kingsport Times-News Online

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A TALE OF TWO TORNADOES
Part I

The National Weather Services has declared October 21st Fall Severe Weather Awareness Day in Tennessee, Mississippi and Alabama. Historically, November has been an active month for severe weather and tornadoes throughout the country.

Having been through a hurricane, a flood, an earthquake and two tornadoes I take this very seriously. By far, the worst of these experiences were the tornadoes.

I know several people who would love to see a funnel cloud. Not me. Being from Northern Illinois, known as “tornado alley,” I have absolutely no desire to see a funnel cloud. I have never seen one and I hope I never do. That’s wayyyyyy too close for comfort.

The morning of my eighth grade graduation from Carl Sandburg Junior High in Northern Illinois, my mother woke my brother and me up at 6 a.m. She said she had a headache so we should go downstairs. This didn’t make sense to my junior high mind.

I respectfully said, “Since when do we have to go in the basement when you have a headache?”

She said, “Just hurry. We are going to have a tornado.”

I looked outside. It was a beautiful June morning, and was sunny as could be. I didn’t argue with my mother because it was the morning of my graduation from Junior High and I wanted presents, like lots of clothes for high school.

We went downstairs quickly but not before I grabbed my transistor radio (boy, am I dating myself) and the cat. As usual, the cat was useless and showed no signs of fear that bad weather was on the way. I turned on WLS in Chicago, the strongest station we could get. The weather report was clear. There was no mention of tornadoes.

My brother and I sat downstairs, thoroughly convinced our mother had lost it, but then, it got pitch black. The basement was partially underground but we could see a small portion of the swirling dark sky through the windows.

The wind picked up and then we heard it: the freight train sound.

It really does sound like a freight train. We got away from the windows while we watched the exterior wall expand and retract. It was made of brick. The sound was deafening and our ears hurt from the vacuum.

It ended after about 20 seconds. We went upstairs, rather shaken, then ventured outside. Thank God, we were spared. Most neighbors had minor roof damage, but some on the adjacent streets weren’t so lucky. Roofs were gone and walls were blown away. Trees were toppled and twisted into pretzels. Cars were moved and there were boats in a park across the street.

Still clutching my transistor, WLS interrupted morning programming with a weather bulletin: we may be experiencing bad weather this morning. That was an understatement. There were no civil defense sirens that morning. This was a complete surprise, a stealth tornado, and it did millions of dollars in damage – back when a million dollars was a million dollars - in Northern Illinois and Indiana.


Not knowing the complete extent of the damage and whether buses would be running, my mother drove me to school. After dodging fallen trees and electrical lines, we rounded the corner and found there wasn’t much of a school left. The damage was unfathomable to me. The gym was gone, as were many classrooms. Had this thing hit two hours later, with school in session, there would have undoubtedly been an even worse ending with casualties and fatalities.

As students arrived at school, the teachers and principals met us in the parking lot. They said we would not have school today. This was pretty obvious. The eighth graders were crushed. What would happen to our graduation? They told us that other arrangements would be made for either tonight or sometime later in the week. The PTA phone tree later called and informed us that graduation would go on as scheduled at a local high school that sustained little damage. I’ll never forget that sight when we rounded the corner that morning. It wasn’t until years later that I understood how life-threatening this was.

That night, still in a daze from the day’s events, I asked my mother how she knew a tornado was going to hit. She said, “Because my head hurt.”

So much for the multi-million dollar Doppler weather and storm tracking equipment. My mother’s head hurt.


To put this in context: I spent the majority of my time during the spring of my fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth grade lined up against the lockers. The civil defense sirens were going off continually from March through May. At the height of the Cold War, during fourth and fifth grade, we weren’t sure whether the Russians were invading or a tornado was coming. The sirens were the same. The teachers didn’t know either. Imagine not knowing if you were going to be blown away or blown up. It’s a vivid memory. I remember girls crying, nervous teachers and jumpy principals. We were simply told to put our hands over our heads and be quiet. Sometimes this was for hours at a time. At least it got me out of math, which I hated.

The moral of the story: If your mother has a headache and tells you to go to the basement, do it! No questions asked…..

Part II – Later this week.

Photos courtesy NOAA

THE DREADED PROFESSIONAL SHRUG

Have you ever had an auto mechanic, doctor or a repairperson give you “the shrug?” I have had this happen many times, and it happened again today. In other words, they can’t fix the problem so they shrug and say, “I don’t know.” I dread the shrug because I know it is going to mean a lot of money to replace or fix something.

Because we are writers (and in my case, even worse, a PR person), we can’t fix anything including the four-month-old towel rack project of Vince’s. So, we take it to a professional. You name it, we can’t fix it. My friends, Pat and Hooper, can fix anything. They have multiple tools and replacement parts for everything. In our house, if it can’t be fixed with duct tape, it goes to the shop, the doctor, the vet or the garbage. This includes cars, vacuum cleaners, cats, plumbing, electrical and anything else. Because of this we spend a lot of money. Neither of us got the “fix it” gene.

I go through vacuum cleaners like some people go through beer before an SEC football game. I have four broken vacuum cleaners in my garage. I never knew why I had this problem until last weekend when I was in Northern Virginia. My friend Marie said, “It’s cat hair.” The light bulb went off in my head. Having gone through at least twenty vacuum cleaners over the years, it never occurred to me that it could be cat hair. Coming from Marie, another animal lover with rescue cats and dogs, this was brilliant.

The last vacuum cleaner broke about three weeks ago. It was going along fine and then I smelled rubber burning. I looked at the wheels, which I assume were made of rubber, but they were still there. I called to Vince. He said maybe it needs a belt. I knew better than to ask him to fix it. So, I let it sit for three weeks. I was about to retire it to the garage where the rest of the vacuum morgue resides, hoping that it would miraculously regenerate itself one day and it would be fixed. The dirt was beginning to get to me yesterday which means it was pretty bad. So, I put the most vacuum in the car and went to the vacuum repair place.

The repairman said it needed a hospital stay to be diagnosed. I picked it up today and they guy gave me “the shrug.” He didn’t know what was wrong. One more vacuum down the drain. He couldn’t figure it out.
The van from hell.............

Then there was the case of the infamous van from hell. To avoid getting sued, I won’t say exactly what kind of van it was (besides a lemon) but it rhymes with Lodge Fairavan, the worst car I’ve ever owned. From the day I bought it, it overheated. I went to four different auto repair shops, including the “Lodge” dealer. They all gave me “the shrug.” Nobody could fix this piece of “garbage” (can also rhyme with “scrap”). Finally, I heard of an old German guy in Woodbridge, Virginia who prided himself on fixing the most difficult problems. He did diagnose the problem, but he couldn’t fix it. The fan was installed upside down. He shrugged and said “I don’t know how to fix it.” It was returned to the dealership with a few “constructive” comments. That was a tough “shrug.” I never bought another “Lodge” or “Fhrysler” vehicle again.

When a doctor tells you they don’t know how to fix something, it’s really disheartening. Having really bad knees because of an ice-skating and dancing habit I had in younger years, is not good. When the Washington Redskins doctor looked at the x-rays and MRI’s, he said, “How do you walk on those?” He shrugged and said he couldn’t do anything. I have falling kneecaps and they aren’t going to get better, even with surgery. I am probably about 200 pound lighter than some linebackers he regularly saw, but I was a hopeless case. That was another depressing “shrug.”

The vet and my old cat Belle is a “good shrug” story. Belle was given six months to live three years ago. Belle forgot to look at the calendar because she is still alive, happy, fat and eats like a horse. The vet can’t figure out why she is still alive, so I got a good “shrug” from Dr. Seifert a few weeks ago.

The only person who has never given me the “shrug” is my hairdresser, Missy, in Dale City, VA. She is so good that I go up there, 1,000 miles round trip, twice a year. I have a great hairdresser in Knoxville, but Missy is like part of the family. She has been doing all of our hair since 1985, before Julianne even made an appearance. I first went to her with awful hair that someone in D.C. messed up royally. Dry, split ends and an awful brassy blond, I pleaded for help. At the time, I think Missy was all of about 18, but she knew color. She fixed my mess by reverse frosting.
Color of Lindsay's hair , a result of "Sun-In"

Another time, Lindsay came back from my mother’s in Florida one summer with a hair disaster. I took one look at her as she got off the plane and I about fainted. She apparently had been attacked by an army of “Sun-In.” Remember “Sun-In?” That real cheap lightener that made your hair a greenish-orange? We all used it in high school, but that was in the 70’s! I immediately called Missy, telling her it was a hair emergency, and could we come that afternoon. Once again, Missy didn’t “shrug,” and she fixed Lindsay’s hair in time for her first day of high school marching band camp. This took many months to darken and then lighten, and it cost far more than the “Sun-In.”

Missy stuck by us through thick and thin. She repaired everything… like when Maren cut Julianne’s hair and when Julianne cut Maren’s hair. She also did all the up-do’s for the proms and homecomings throughout high school, an emergency foil frost before Lindsay’s wedding, and great styles twice a year for all the shows I directed at the retirement community. Our kids are almost the same age, two are moms, and it has been fun to keep up with her over the years.

Thanks, Missy, for not “shrugging” and never giving up on our hopeless hair.

We still can’t find anyone who can fix the towel rack. Anyone want a free broken vacuum cleaner?

BIG CAT DIARY EVERY DAY

My weekday life revolves around “Big Cat Diary” on Animal Planet every day at 2:00 p.m. Lunch, meetings, travel, you name it, the world stops. Both Vince and I have to see the big cats every day. For anyone who has not seen this, you are missing a real nature experience.

This BBC production is extremely well done. The compassion shown by the researchers and crew is evident. They follow families of lions, cheetahs and leopards in the Masai Mara Sanctuary in Kenya. Each of the three hosts is an expert on one or more of the cats. Braving ungodly weather and bugs, the crew brings it to you raw. There is nothing show biz about this show. This is filmed out in the wild and it isn’t always pleasant. Never does the crew interfere, as much as they get emotionally involved, when a cat is hurt, maimed or killed. They are simply there to record the cats’ lives, and they do a fabulous job of it.

Big Cat Diary films several months out of the year to coincide with the wildebeest migration. Jonathan Scott and Simon King began this project in 1996 and were joined in 2002 by Saba Douglas-Hamilton. They guide their four-wheel drives over some rugged terrain, and sometimes as many as 60 crew are assisting in filming and spotting the cats. Every segment is impressive.

The crews follow these cats for months and sometimes years; from birth to adulthood and, unfortunately, in some cases, to death. The cats, as they say, “write the script.” Names are given to the big cats and their cubs, and you soon find yourself developing a bond with the cats. There is one common denominator to every show; the plot. Cats chase prey, cats kill prey, cats eat prey and share with cubs. It sounds gruesome, and it can be. What comes across is that the cats’ lives consists of a never-ending quest to find the next meal for themselves and their families.

Sometimes, the show can be very funny. The lion, cheetah and leopard cubs are adorable. They wrestle and tumble and jump and run, all in preparation for the day when they have to hunt on their own. The moms are highly protective, and they are continually teaching the cubs how to hunt. The dads are kind of deadbeats, but they do defend their families when another male tries to take over the territory.


The lions are my favorites. They are so regal, and they remind me the most of my housecats. I think they have a smile on their faces at times. They are smug because they are the kings of the cats. The lions are the most feared among the big cats because of their sheer size and power. These social animals live in prides and will kill anything that threatens the pride, including the other big cats.

The leopards, by far the most reclusive of the three breeds, are fascinating. They kill their prey, and then drag them up high into trees so other predators can’t steal them. These are the master climbers of the cat race. The crews have the most difficult time finding these cats, and it takes more spotters to locate them than the other breeds.


The cheetahs are not only speed machines, but they have quite a sense of humor. They frequently jump on the Big Cat Diary Jeeps to gain a higher vantage point. In addition to doing several unmentionable things on the Jeeps, they recently ate a still camera that one of the crew left sitting out. The very expensive camera soon became a cheetah chew toy, but the crew could only laugh. The cheetah’s mischievous and humorous behavior was described recently as “…typically cheetah.” Today, as the cheetah once again jumped on the Jeep, Jonathan Scott said, “We are nothing more than a moveable termite mound.” The cheetahs have no fear of humans. They are the most vulnerable of the big cats because of their relative small size, but they have speed on their side.


All the big cats fear the hyenas and water buffalo. If more than a few hyenas gather, the cats scatter…even the lions. And the leopard and cheetahs fear the lions.

I have a soft spot for the big cats because of my own house cats. With seven permanent rescue cats, I see great similarities. Though they have no food worries as the 24/7 cafeteria is always open, the similarities are striking. The big cats may be stalking a wildebeest or Thompson’s gazelle in Africa, but my cats have the same body language, gestures, approach and attack when chasing a fly. I’m glad I’m bigger than my cats.

Cats, cats, cats, big or small - Whenever we go to a zoo, we head right to the cats, whether it’s our great Knoxville Zoo, or any zoo. When we are on vacation, where do we go? The zoo. This summer, even with my broken foot, we hobbled around the Ft. Worth Zoo and the Gainesville, TX Zoo. I’ve been to zoos in almost every state and foreign countries. The Columbus Zoo, Brookfield Zoo, Lincoln Park Zoo and San Diego Zoo are just a few. Some people go to museums; we go to zoos.

The big cats touch my heart. Last year, when we got married, I wanted to do something for the big cats at The International Exotic Animal Sanctuary in Boyd, Texas. Rather than feature fancy centerpieces and favors, we had pens printed with the name and website of the Sanctuary. From what I’ve learned, we raised lots of money for them!!

If you like the big cats and quality TV (for a change), then Big Cat Diary is the show for you. Seeing these magnificent cats in their natural habitat is a humbling experience every day. It always makes my day go better. Just don’t call me between 2:00-3:00!
Photos courtesy Big Cat Diary, Animal Plant; Google Images, Big Cat Diary

THE INFAMOUS GREAT WHITE STYROFOAM COOLER
Today I am plagiarizing. This was Vince’s column from August 26. I am running it in my blog because he received lots of comments on the cooler column. Everyone can relate. We all had them at one time or another. We had one until a month ago.

*****

STYROFOAM COOLERS ARE CONVENIENT, CHEAP –AND OH SO ANNOYING
By Vince Staten
August 26, 2009, Kingsport Times-News

The Styrofoam cooler is one of the great inventions of the twentieth century.
It’s convenient, lightweight, inexpensive and it works. You can load
it up with drinks, pour on the ice and you are set for the day.
There are just a couple of problems….
I picked one up at the grocery the other day before heading on a trip.
It only costs me four bucks.
Okay, there’s a reason I bought a Styrofoam cooler. I have a “real”
cooler, hard plastic Coleman with beverage holders on the top but when
I went to get it out of the closet, I discovered that one of the kids
had borrowed it and somehow lost the plug. That means when I filled it
with ice and the ice started melting, water would run out all over my
car.
So I bought a Styrofoam cooler because it is convenient. And cheap.
And because my good cooler was out of commission.
I filled it with drinks, covered them with ice and we set out on our trip.
We were driving merrily down the road when it started. Squeak. Squeak.
The Styrofoam was rubbing up against the back seat and making that
annoying squeaking sound. My wife stuffed newspapers between the
cooler and the seat and it quit squeaking. For a couple of seconds.
Then the squeak returned. So she put towels between the cooler and the
seat. And it quit squeaking. For a couple of seconds.
Then she pulled it out from the back of the seat. But then the bottom
of the cooler began rubbing against the bottom of the seat and it
started squeaking again.
Let it go, I said.
So we drove along with an annoying squeak, squeak.
I turned up the radio.
But it didn’t drown out the squeak.
I started thinking about a solution. Could we somehow suspend it in
air between the two hand grabs? I toyed with that idea for about 30
seconds till the squeak got to me.
I took matters into my own hand. I reached around while driving,
intent on pulling the Styrofoam cooler forward.
And my hand went right through the cooler wall. Convenient,
lightweight, inexpensive and breaks with ease.
Good job, I thought. Bust up your cooler.
Then I heard it: squeak, squeak, squeak.
My wife had a great suggestion: What if we take the drinks out of the
cooler. There won’t be any weight to cause it to squeak.
It worked!
Take all the drinks out of the Styrofoam cooler and it doesn’t squeak anymore!
It doesn’t keep your drinks cool…but it doesn’t squeak!
I left the busted Styrofoam cooler on top of a garbage can at a
convenience store. I’m sure as I write it is down by the river filled
with bait.

WHERE ARE ALL THE GOOD TV THEME SONGS?

Can you sing the words to any current TV show? And “Men, men, men, men, manly men, men, men…” doesn’t count.

That’s because there are none, no words.

Remember "Mr. Ed?" “A horse is a horse, of course, of course…”
And "The Adams Family" “They’re creepy and they’re spooky….”
How about "Car 54 Where Are You?" “There’s a hold-up in the Bronx, Brooklyn’s broken out in fights…..Khrushchev’s due at Idyllwild….Car 54 where are you?”
Everybody remembers "The Beverly Hillbillies," “Come and listen to a story ‘bout a man named Jed, a poor mountaineer barely kept his family fed…up from the ground come a bubbling’ crude…oil that is….Texas tea ”
How could we ever forget "Gilligan’s Island….".”Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale… a three hour tour, a three hour tour….”
And, of course, "Green Acres," “Green Acres is the place for me, farm livin’ is the life for me..”

What has happened? Why don’t we hear those great theme songs anymore? Even in the 70’s with goofy shows like “Three’s Company” there were still theme songs. Are the producers just not putting the money into theme songs? Or, is it because there are more commercials and not enough time for theme songs?

All we seem to have now is one word themes like “Men,” titled, I assume “Men,” for “Two And A Half Men” that goes “Men, men, men, men, manly men, doo doo doo, doo doo doo, doo, doo doo….” Come on. Can’t we do better than that???????

If it’s money, can’t the networks pitch in? When they spend a gazillion dollars on NFL half time shows that feature performers like Faith Hill or Toby Keith (singing songs that you don’t remember five minutes later) can’t they throw a few bucks to their leading shows to give them a theme song?

Are they going to use these current generic crummy theme songs again? Maybe it’s kind of like “re-gifting.” Some people get something they don’t like for Christmas, so they “re-gift.” I have a relative and his wife who are famous for that. Perhaps the networks are thinking that by using the current unrecognizable generic theme songs for the 2009-2010 season, that by 2013 they can bring them back and attach them to another show. I guess that’s the same concept as church construction today. A friend of mine is a commercial loan officer at a major bank in Chicago. He said they would not loan money to new churches if they look like a church. HUH??? Asked why, he said, “When they go under, we want to be able to rent or sell the building. A traditional church with a steeple is hard to sell to Wal-Mart.” So, are re-useable theme songs the way of the future?

“Mash” and “Hill Street Blues” and “Hawaii 5-0” all had very recognizable instrumental themes. “Dick Van Dyke” and “The Carol Burnett Show” had great themes. “The Andy Griffith Show” theme consisted of whistling and everyone who grew up in the 60’s can instantly whistle that one. “The Twilight Zone” had four notes repeated over and over, but you knew you were going to get the heck scared out of you for the next thirty minutes.


Even the animated characters had theme songs. “Bugs Bunny,” “Woody Woodpecker,” and “The Muppets” all had recognizable theme songs.

Generally speaking, some of the commercials have better music than the shows. And that’s sad. When the best music you hear on TV is the broken-hearted mop singing the 1977 hit “Baby, Come Back” because the woman jilted it for a new Swifter mop, it’s apparent we are in a music wasteland.

As writers, I will volunteer Vince and myself to write a new, recognizable theme song if you should invent a new, successful and profitable hit TV show. We’ll talk royalties later. You can even own it….just bring back the music!!!!

HOOVER DAM STORE IS DAM FUNNY

As one of the many “wonders of the world,” The Hoover Dam on the Nevada/Arizona border is impressive. I’m not sure where this really ranks in the “wonders of the world” list because there are so many.

This past week, NBC’s Today Show credited the new Dallas Cowboy’s Stadium with being the “eighth wonder of the world.” NBC apparently made this claim because: 1. The Today Show was broadcast live from there on Friday, complete with Dallas Cheerleaders surrounding Al and Matt (Note to parents of teenage girls: strongly encourage them to rid their vocabulary of the word “amazing” before they are 21. Between three Cheerleaders, it was used 11 times in 35 seconds) ; 2. NBC carried the Cowboys vs. Giants game live last night. So, naturally, in NBC’s eyes, the new Dallas Cowboy Stadium has become the newest “wonder of the world.” And because Jerry Jones said so.

The Hoover Dam truly is one of the "wonders of the world," but which one? According to Wikipedia, it is one of the Seven Wonders of the Industrial World, and it shows up as a “wonder” several other times as well. I didn’t know there were so many "wonders": Seven Wonders of the Medieval World, Wonders of the Travel World, Seven Wonders of the Underwater World, Seven Wonders of the Ancient World and now USA Today’s New Seven Wonders. Now Cowboy’s Stadium (also called the “Dallas Palace”) has been added to that list by NBC.

But this isn’t about the newest “wonder of the world” and Jerry Jones. It’s about the Hoover Dam gift shop, the best Dam gift shop anywhere.

Last summer, we were in Vegas and decided we’d take a side trip to the Hoover Dam, about 25 minutes away, because it was so incredibly hot in Vegas. Being the untrained meteorologists we are, we thought getting to a higher elevation, out of the dessert, would bring some relief. Wrong…it’s hotter there.

So we took our rented Jeep and went to the Dam. We took the very impressive tour, went down into the Dam and heard a lot about its construction, history, the challenges, etc. It was interesting, but for two people who can hardly hang a picture or a towel rack (a four-month project of Vince’s) it was over our heads.

After being underground for an hour where it was cold, we were glad to get outside, thinking it would be perhaps in the 80’s or 90’s. Wrong. It was approaching 110 at 11:00 a.m. The tour guide told us it could be as much as ten degrees hotter than Vegas, so once again we made an incorrect weather prediction. Now we were walking around the outside of the Dam. And it was Dam hot!


Anxious to get back into air conditioning before walking up a steep hill to get the car, I wanted to go to the gift store. Whenever I go anywhere, whether it’s a “wonder of the world” or not, I go to the gift store.



Vince wanted a “backscratcher,” one of those tacky long plastic things with fingers that you used to find at Myrtle Beach… until you are seriously looking and can never find one. I found one at the Dam Shop, and I was so happy. Then, I had to get the obligatory shot glass for my daughter who has a hundred or so shot glasses. Why? I don’t know. I don’t know if there’s value in shot glasses, but she has them from everywhere. When I’ve visited famous churches or serious museums, Julianne wants me to get her a shot glass. Some places just don’t have shot glasses in their gift stores. But I knew, since I already had the tacky backscratcher, shot glasses wouldn’t be hard to find.

With backscratcher, post cards and shot glass in hand, I went to check out. The clerk, obviously a stand up comic in Vegas, used the word “Dam” as many times as he possibly could while ringing up my Dam treasures.

“Oh, I see you have a Dam shot glass. Pretty Dam nice. We have the best Dam shot glasses at the Dam….Oh, and a handy little Dam backscratcher. These are Dam handy, and always remember where you got it …at the Dam. Dam post cards? Well, you can never have enough Dam post cards. These are Dam good…and pretty at that,” he said, proclaiming all that’s good at the Dam.

At this point, I was really laughing because this guy was Dam funny. He probably performed the midnight show at one of the lesser casinos, but he was Dam quick on his feet.

“So, are you paying in Dam money or credit card,” He Damingly asked.

This went on for another five minutes. I can’t begin to explain how many times he used “Dam” in his checkout routine. This guy was good.

I went over to tell Vince just how Dam funny this guy was, but he had already checked out with a lesser not-so-funny Dam clerk, and he didn’t want to get back in line to buy something.

So we left, Dam souvenirs in hand, and went out into the stifling 110 degree plus Dam heat back to the car. It was the best Dam experience I’ve ever had. Or, as they say in Dallas, “amazing.”

Fake picture of us in front of Hoover Dam

Create your own visitor map!

WAKING UP WITH….AL???
A mini-blog for the day

All these people wake up with Al every day. Do you? (photo courtesy NBC)

Am I the only one in the country who is NOT waking up with Al? NBC, MSNBC, CNBC and now The Weather Channel are running commercials featuring everyone from Quentin Tarrantino to Conan O’Brien who are all WAKING UP WITH AL! It must be crowded in there. Al Roker is on The Weather Channel from 6:00 a.m. to 7:00 a.m. every morning. Everyone with a pulse is “waking up with Al.” Don’t we get enough of Al from 7:00 a.m. to 10:00 a.m. on The Today Show?

Being the rude celebrities of the week that they are, I think NBC ought to capitalize on the Congressman Jim Wilson (R-SC), tennis star Serena Williams and rapper Kanye West craze. How about some commercials with Al and these loud mouth clowns?

If they woke up with Al, what do you think the dialogue would be?

“Congressman Wilson, do you wake up with Al?”
“You lie! MBC lies! Al lies! Obama lies!…and I’m not sorry,” Wilson screams.

“Serena Williams, do you wake up with Al?”
“#$%&*()))_&^%*&! You can take that microphone and ##### ^^%$# ****^^. Al who?” Serena shouts.

“Kanye West, do you wake up with Al?”
“Hell, yes, I wake up with Al…but, wait, Al can do his weather rap later. Beyonce’s music video is the best of all time in the history of the world ever..and she can do the weather better than anybody including Al. And she wakes up with Al, too,” Kanye yells.

So much for civility.

Do YOU wake up with Al?

Cool Jobs I Never Had

As another Labor Day passed on Monday, I began thinking about all the cool jobs I never had. When I was a kid, I thought I might want to be: 1. a veterinarian; 2. a meteorologist; 3. an astronomer. This was after I recited the required childhood goals of actress, dancer and Mouseketeer. I loved animals, I was interested in the weather and the night sky always fascinated me. Then, I found out science was involved.

Being a vet would be cool, I once thought. Until it came time for the blood and guts. The next best thing to being a vet is having a daughter who is currently a vet tech. The stories she tells me are filled with details of operating room procedures, dogs who have been hit by cars and many unspeakable things. Thank heaven for people in that profession. I’ve $upported them well over the years. Meteorology would be an interesting profession, but I learned there was a lot of science AND math, my downfall. Some meteorologists must be grandfathered out of that requirement. Willard Scott once told me “Melanie, I don’t have a clue. I hold my finger up in the air and try to figure out which way the wind is blowing.”

Becoming an astronomer and looking at stars would be neat, too, but once again, that took a lot of math, and even the really tough stuff like calculus. I barely got through high school algebra. To this day I don’t know how A + B = C. I still say that’s comparing apples and oranges.

So, had no math or science skills. But I did have a lot of music, dance and skating skills (which I already knew paid badly), so I went into journalism and broadcasting, areas in which you really need no skills at all….except writing. The problem of not having a job is prevalent in this industry. There are always great opportunities to be laid off. If you want to go to journalism school, you’d better get used to saying “Do you want fries with that?”

The day of my college graduation from UT, I traveled to Washington, D. C. where I was hired as Press Secretary for my congressman from Illinois. Capitol Hill is a great training ground for those with no skills. You learn graduate level Lying 101. After a year on the Hill, I went to the White House Press Office. This, I soon learned, was lying on the PhD. level. This was for the big boys and girls. There was a bit of acting there, too, and I wish I had paid more attention to an acting class I had to take at UT. The White House level of spin was a challenge. Not only did you know the answers the press wanted and couldn’t give them, but you had to look stupid, without being stupid and let them know that you knew that they knew that you knew the answers. Every day was a challenge.

Still, with no discernable skills as a writer/PR person and having lost my job in the presidential election, I went on to the Chamber of Commerce of the U.S. as a lobbyist. This was fun, and they paid you well for it. These were not life and death national security issues. This wasn’t nearly as hard as working for local or national constituents. This was creative and you got to spin things much more.

My daughters had some interesting ideas about their future vocations when they were little. Lindsay wanted to be a clown. She was really into clowns until her sister Maren told her that clowns couldn’t have babies. This clown reproductive theory was a raging battle at our house for years. And now, we have the last laugh since the clown gave birth to Clarissa, a little clown. Now a music teacher (not at Clown College), Lindsay switched to music somewhere along the way.

Julianne wanted to be a “Barbie Doll clothes scientist.” We never figured out what that meant, but, being the youngest, she was always being teased about this potential career. This provided years of laughs for the other two. This glamorous goal of Julianne’s never made sense to me, because all the Barbies, and we had hundreds of them, were always naked. They never had clothes on, thanks to Julianne. In fact, most had short or no hair because she cut their hair. Often they were beheaded, for whatever bizarre reason. When we had a major flood in the basement, a frequent occurrence in that house, all of the naked and beheaded Barbies floated around in a bizarre river of doll death. Making the segue from Barbie fashionista, Julianne is now a theatrical lighting designer.

Maren is the only who stayed permanently focused on her childhood dream of helping animals. She sees the most gruesome stuff every day, but she keeps cool and loves her job. Maren did, though, at about 12 years old, have one potential vocation in mind and that was to be a nun. She said it only lasted for 15 minutes. Sister Mary Partyondude.

What did you want to be when you were a kid? Send me some quotable thoughts. It’s always interesting to hear what people have to say. Vince, for instance, wanted to be a cowboy until he learned he was afraid of cows. That’s the title of one of his books.

SEPTEMBER 11th, EIGHT YEARS LATER
Everybody writes about September 11th – where they were, what they were doing, whose fault it was, conspiracy theories, and the list of topics is endless.

I was in a unique place. I was with two hundred World War II era survivors and veterans. Having seen the horrors of war, they had some unique perspectives.

September 11, 2001, I was Director of Resident Services and Public Relations for a large retirement community in Northern Virginia. I was in a staff meeting when someone rushed in and said a plane had hit the World Trade Center. Always very happy to get out of the time-wasting staff meeting, I thought it was a pretty sick joke, but at least it ended the meeting. Then I went down to the Multipurpose Room and tuned into the giant TV. It was for real. I watched the second plane hit. I couldn’t process what I was seeing.

Just one year before, my daughter and I were in the lobby of the World Trade Center waiting in line for cheap Broadway tickets. I remember thinking to myself, “Gosh, this place has a lot of glass.” We then went to the lower levels, to a shopping mall with many different banks, to exchange her foreign currency. She had just gotten back from a band trip to Europe. This all flashed through my brain as I watched the plane hit. I had been there.

More and more residents came from their cottages and apartments to watch the big screen TV. Sadness filled the room. Though the mood was somber, many had comments and they were all of the opinion, “This country has seen war before and we’ll see it again. We’ll get through this.”

It began to hit home even more for many of them when the Pentagon was attacked. Many had children and grandchildren working in the Pentagon. For some unknown reason, mine was the only cell phone that worked throughout the day so many residents came to my office to borrow it as they checked on their families.



West side of Pentagon two weeks after American Airlines Flight 77 crashed on September 11th.

Then, I thought of my own family. My middle daughter just started at UT. I couldn’t reach her at first. My youngest daughter was a senior in high school. I got word they were in a lock down status, so I knew she was safe. Those of us who lived in the Washington D.C. area didn’t know if we were under attack My oldest daughter, who literally lived across the street from the Pentagon, was asleep. She worked a late shift at the veterinary clinic the night before. When I called, she was unaware of what had happened. By mid-morning traffic was in a historic snarl in the entire Washington D.C. Metro area. I told her to try to get out of there and get down I-95. It was impossible. She vaguely remembered hearing the crash when the plane hit. She thought a massive crane fell next to Pentagon City where there was construction. I told her to look out the window. She was amazed to find the Pentagon on fire. Military helicopters were everywhere, buzzing eye-level with her 15th story apartment. Throughout the day I received eyewitness reports from her as to what was going on.

Residents at this upscale retirement community were very well educated and generally of high rank in the military, CIA or government before they retired. We had a number of former POW’s who were held in German camps during World War II. I had spoken to many of them about these experiences. They lived in a fascinating era, and had unbelievable experiences. Normally these residents were not willing to talk about their war experiences, but on September 11th, several were more vocal than usual.

The two chaplains, both from the same era, were available for counseling of staff and residents throughout the week. Later in the week, a memorial service was held. So many of the residents told me that once again, their faith would get them through this. They believed in this country.

I was concerned about one of my best friends, Kathy and her husband Joe, who lived in Manhattan at the time. The phone lines to New York were impossible so I emailed her. Due to the confusion, there was no public transportation in the city that day. Kathy left work in mid-town Manhattan and walked home, about 40 blocks. I’ll never forget her email that night. “All of these people were walking from Ground Zero. They were covered in ash and their eyes were hollow. Their eyes were just hollow.” They were in shock. She saw hundreds and hundreds of people in this state.

That morning, I took particular note of the weather. It was incredibly clear. The skies were blue and you could feel autumn in the air. About 250 miles from suburban Virginia was New York City. They had identical weather. How many days in your life do you remember kind of weather you were having that day? For some reason, I’ll always remember how blue the sky was.

MIDDLE-OF-THE-NIGHT TV – A WASTELAND OF SHAMELESS PROMOTING

I have watched a lot of TV at strange hours for the past eight weeks because of my foot injury. When the pain starts, I wake up and turn on the great wasteland.

Incomprehensible to me are cartoons and jewelry sales. At least three stations at 3:45 a.m. had cartoons. What kids watch cartoons at that hour? I know of one case that was somewhat similar. My youngest daughter, Julianne, from age five on, stood on a chair and turned on a “The Sound of Music” Beta tape every Saturday morning for years, full volume at 6:00 a.m. sharp, much to the dislike of her sisters. But she didn’t watch cartoons at 3:45 a.m.

And Jewelry sales? Who the heck is watching this stuff? Is there a nocturnal sub-culture with a serious need to buy jewelry at 2:00 a.m? I mean, who REALLY needs a tanzanite bracelet at that hour?

But the most amazing of all is the junk for sale. I am completely amazed. These middle-of-the-night pitchmen and women are without shame. Here are a few things I’ve viewed recently. The product names are changed to protect the guilty.

--A CUTTING MACHINE that creates designs for scrapbooks…or quilts…or clothes. This thing has hundreds of buttons, and, no doubt would take an MIT engineer to operate it. It even puts vinyl decorations all over your patio. That’s what we all want; doily-shaped vinyl crap on our patios.

--A SPRAY-ON MAKEUP that takes years off your face. An “airbrush foundation” mixes spray-on make-up with air to cover all wrinkles and puffiness. Why wouldn’t a fan in the bathroom do the same?

--MATRESS SALES are too numerous to mention, but AT LEAST, unlike jewelry, that makes sense in the middle of the night.

-VITAMINS, VITAMINS, VITAMINS. One of these pathetic commercials features women in their 60’s, 70’s and 80’s, all of who are serious victims of idiot plastic surgeons. All have, as Vince calls it, the “perpetually surprised” looks on their faces. This one is only $6.95 and you can get your money back if you send the empty bottle back to them. That’s just too easy.

-JEANS…LOTS OF JEANS TO MAKE YOU LOOK SLIM. They are only about $59. Let me clue you in – Gloria Vanderbilt stretch jeans at Kohl’s are $21.

-TEDDY BEARS. This was one of my favorites. Teddy Bears from “most” states, with the state quarter in their back paws, “are very valuable ($29 for a set) and rare.” And, after all, as the pitchmeister says, who wants a “traditional teddy bear with a fat face.” Excuse me. Didn’t we all have cute and cuddly teddy bears with fat faces when we were kids? Do we really want a new generation of anorexic teddy bears? They are SUPPOSED to be fat!

DIETS. There are many of these, but there was one in particular that sparked my interest. With this one, you can eat anything, as long as you train your metabolism to do something or other. I watched this for 15 minutes and never had a clue. This guy was amongst the slickest and creepiest. Brownies, pancakes, cakes...anything you can “put in your mouth,” as long as you train your system. HUH???

REAL ESTATE INVESTING. This guy was about as rough as they come. To cut down on production costs, he drives his car and delivers his pitch to a web cam perched on the dashboard. He never leaves his car. Unbelievable.

EXERCISE PROGRAMS. These are endless, but the best one is the Turkish athlete who endorses a 12-pack of DVD’s that promote (you’re not going to believe this), “muscle confusion.” Apparently this inventor-slickster was so desperate that he had to go to Turkey to find some broke schmuck to pitch this. This one was outwardly funny.

VACUUM CLEANERS. There are a few of these, but the best is the “Garry,” which, I assume is named after the guy’s kid. To demonstrate the power of the “Garry,” this guy (with a really bad toupee) takes sandbags filled with ten years of “dirt” and throws them, one by one, on an outdoor patio carpet. He said there is animal hair and kibble and all sorts of stuff in them. Yuk. The poor guy he has demonstrating the “Garry” has been vacuuming for “three days.” Undoubtedly this vacuuming stooge is from Central Casting, and he doesn’t even look tired.

****
MY OWN SHAMELESS INVENTION…….I think I will invent the “Vince.” It leaves two weeks of newspaper on the coffee table along with candy wrappers, mail and magazines. It doesn’t pick up anything. But, then again, neither do I. How can we make a buck on that?

NEW ORLEANS – FOUR YEARS LATER

Driving back from Texas last week, we decided to take the southern route, because the northern route through Arkansas is incredibly boring. After two days in New Orleans, we came to the conclusion that we may have been better off suffering through Arkansas.

New Orleans is still a mess. Only about 70 per cent of their population has returned, there were very few tourists and it smelled.

We stayed in a “boutique” hotel on the edge of the French Quarter, Le Richelieu. It was actually very nice, and I would recommend it. That was one of two good experiences....and it's the only hotel in the French Quarter with free parking. We saved $60.

For dinner, we walked about three blocks from the hotel, and we didn’t like the looks of the neighborhood. It was vacant, there were gang signs everywhere and there was a pervading odor. I was uncomfortable. Not only am I walking in a foot cast (due to my little accident in July) but also we looked like tourists. We were eyed suspiciously. This was in the early evening.

The next morning, we walked more toward the center of things in the French Quarter and Jackson Square.I had the same feeling. It was like being in an unfriendly foreign country.

Then we discovered the famous Café Du Monde. Right in the middle of the French Quarter with a view of the Mississippi River a few hundred yards away, is the famous Café. We had their famous "beignets” . It was heaven. They are big mounds of fried dough with powdered sugar. It was like a funnel cake on steroids. Wonderful. That was good experience number two. Only in Louisiana is there a state doughnut, "the beignet."

The rest of the day we walked (I limped) around the French Quarter. While never known to be the classiest or cleanest place on earth, only two words in my vocabulary can describe it: seedy and dirty. It was kind of like Times Square used to be before Rudy and Disney cleaned it up to what it is now.

The whole area was void of tourists. In the busy part of the Square with St. Louis Cathedral as a backdrop, there were few people. The “horse and buggy” trade was empty. To help them out, we took a half hour tour. The guide was excellent cand took us all around the French Quarter. The “horse” was actually a donkey as they have a lower body temperature, she explained.

Still, what struck us was how empty the city was. Our “donkey and buggy” took up the whole street on Bourbon, Chartres, Canal and other streets and not a car was behind us. No traffic and no tourists seemed to be the theme.

The panhandlers, however, were working hard. We were hit up for money by a working street person posing as a tourist. We were followed by another guy.

We walked up the levy to sit and look at the Mississippi. There was no one there at 1:00 in the afternoon. Having visited New Orleans previously, I remember there were swarms of tourists and locals in those areas.

The most interesting part of this visit was talking to the locals. Everyone we spoke to evacuated during Katrina. Several went to Jackson, Mississippi for months. A waitress and a recent graduate from Loyola had to evacuate because their campus is adjacent to the much larger campus of Tulane, and Tulane was flooded. She was gone for six months. Absolutely everyone we talked to had a story, and they had to leave their homes. It was hard to imagine.

Dining was an experience, and we decided it just isn’t a good city for non-seafood lovers. I have allergies and Vince just doesn’t like seafood. For our one-year anniversary, we looked long and hard for a restaurant that was not all seafood. After driving to the Garden District, we found one. It was Mediterranean fare, so we had some kind of steak-on-a-stick. It was good...until 3:00 a.m. when I woke up with food poisoning.

Where was the music? We asked about live music. We were there on a Sunday and Monday and those are the down nights. There was a place several people recommended to us, “all the locals go there” but it was in that seedy neighborhood near the hotel. I wanted to go where the tourists go. We drove through the French Quarter and heard nothing but canned music. A few street musicians lined Jackson Square, but that was it.

*****
LEAVING NEW ORLEANS (the best part)……Driving Interstate 10 toward Biloxi and Gulfport, we saw some of the damage and rebuilding from Katrina. Miles and miles and miles of new, small homes were constructed. Many new apartment buildings with signs begging for renters were visible as well. Some areas still had blue tarps on them and some were just condemned. This was endless.

The New Orleans Times Picayune, four years later, almost to the day, was filled with Katrina and FEMA stories. There are still thousands of boats and vehicles underwater in Lake Ponchartrain as well as in countless rivers, canals, waterways and bayous. These are making life difficult for the fishermen, whose nets are getting caught in the ever-shifting debris as well as the large vessels who require the shipping lanes.

Whose fault is it that New Orleans hasn't recovered? Who knows. FEMA, the federal govenment, local government? It's probably a combination of a lot of factors.

AND FOR THE BIGGEST SURPRISE OF ALL, Gulfport and Biloxi are virtually gone as beach towns. I am not kidding. They’re gone. Except for a few high-rise casinos, the beach towns I loved as a kid are GONE. We drove fifteen miles each way between Biloxi and Gulfport, so that I could process this. There’s nothing on the ocean side of the highway. There’s very little on the other side of the highway, but there is some degree of rebuilding. That’s it. No hotels, motels, junky souvenir shops, honky-tonk places..nothing. It’s gone. Wow. So much for our plans to stay there. At the end of August, there was virtually no one on the beach for 15 miles. It was hard to believe the devastation that Katrina and several previous hurricanes caused. Thriving beach towns were wiped out.

I’ve read it, and seen it on TV, but until you actually see it, it’s hard to comprehend.

Despite the smell, panhandlers, creepy neighborhoods, seedy bars and food poisoning, we had a good first anniversary! The second anniversary will NOT be in New Orleans!

Pride of the Southland Band Begins New Season

Pride of the Southland Band plays "Rocky Top" as they march to Neyland Stadium.

IT’S FOOTBALL TIME IN TENNESSEE….AND ANOTHER GREAT SEASON BEGINS FOR THE PRIDE OF THE SOUTHLAND BAND

It will be football time in Tennessee on Saturday, and for the first time in countless (I really can’t count them) years, I am missing the opening home game. That is due to the clumsy injury I had in July when I decided to go flying off my friend Lynne’s deck. Breaking bones in both feet and the subsequent ER visit has not been pleasant. It has been awful. Eight weeks later, I have complications with my right foot and a newly found fracture. I am still in a soft shoe cast.

Anyway, doctor’s orders on Monday were clear: “NO CROWDS, NO STADIUM AND NO GAME. PERIOD.”

I asked him if that meant the UT opener against Western Kentucky and he gave me an emphatic “YES.”

Being the nice guy he is, he said, “Don’t worry, there will be other games. Lane Kiffin will be here for a long time…..” yada yada yada.

I explained to him that I really don’t care about the football, and that I am a Pride of the Southland Band fanatic. I want to go to support the Pride. Two of my daughters had the privilege to march in the Pride, and I want to support my son-in-law’s brother who is a trombone section leader this year. That didn’t fly. No game this week…or next…..So, we’ll watch it on TV.

But it won’t be the same since the networks, small or large, hardly ever show half time except for maybe the Rose Bowl. And that’s a travesty. Save that for another blog.

Whether it’s the Pride of the Southland or any other college or high school band, what they all have in common is that they work so hard, and they give 110 percent from August to December, and sometimes beyond that. These band members are also student athletes. Anyone who has ever marched in a band or had kids in a band knows this.

Every band director I have ever met is an incredibly hard working person. As musicians, they could have chosen easier teaching jobs than directing high school or college marching bands. It is very demanding and physical.

The Pride of the Southland is exceptional. For one credit hour, these kids practice more than seven hours a week in unbearably hot to unbelievably cold weather for four to five months. That doesn’t count the Thursday/Friday through Sunday when the Pride travels to an away game.

Their uniforms are wool. When Neyland Stadium is 90-100 degrees on the field, these talented college students are marching, playing, remembering their drill charts and putting on the best show in the country.

UT Football Team runs through the "T," a Tennessee tradition.

And it’s not just one halftime show for UT. The Pride is one of the few bands in the country to present a full pre-game show every week. The Band spends as much time on it every week as they do halftime.

So, next time you go to Neyland Stadium, a college game or a local high school, take the time to thank a band member. They will always remember it, and you’ll be glad you did.
Have a great season, Pride, and thanks to Dr. Gary Sousa, Dr. Donald Ryder and Dr. Michael Stewart and all the members of the Pride!

Fans sing the UT alma mater as the Pride forms the "UT."

THE BIG CATS IN BOYD, TEXAS……I have a number of lions, tigers, panthers, cougars, cheetahs, bobcats, servals and bears in Texas, and I visit them every time we travel there. They are not actually mine, but it’s the closest I’ll ever get to owning a lion. It’s probably a real good thing that I will never own a lion because my own herd of rescue cats pretty much run the show around our house.
On a trip to visit my daughter in Ft. Worth three years ago, I discovered the International Exotic Animal Sanctuary. It is not a zoo or a place where the cats do tricks. It’s a serious and sincere effort by many dedicated people to preserve and take care of big cats and bears who have been abused or neglected.
It is beyond impressive. These animals have been kept in apartments, crates and small circuses. The stories break your heart. The staff, interns and volunteers who care for these exotic creatures work tirelessly to give them the quality of life they deserve.
Most of these animals are not young. They had tragic lives before they were brought to IEAF and most are malnourished.
Vince and I visited them last week. On the hour plus walking tour of the Sanctuary, the guide explains how each animal came to IEAS. Each has a story, and one is sadder than the next.

The caretakers are particularly sensitive to the cats’ moods, what kind of day they are having and other important facets of their personalities.Last week, a male cheetah was having a rough day. He was depressed because he missed his sister who died recently. They did not want to agitate him more, so we were not allowed to see him. A gorgeous male lion, Ron, was upset because a caretaker drove past him in her golf car and forgot to stop and say hello. This is a daily tradition, and this particular caretaker just forgot. We were asked not to stay at his enclosure very long. We learned there is not much that upsets a 700-pound male lion more than an elusive golf cart.

Zippy, the hurricane tiger, is observing Melanie.

ZIPPY, HURRICANE IKE, NASCAR, AND TONY STEWART -Zippy is one of my favorite stories. “Zippy,” an eight-year-old year old Bengal tiger, was rescued during Hurricane Ike last year. Some moron kept Zippy in a garage near Galveston. When the hurricane hit, Zippy’s heartless owner abandoned him. Zippy, much to Zippy’s credit, escaped. Thankful to be free, he took refuge in a church. After a quick confession, he was captured and brought to IEAS. NASCAR driver Tony Steward was touched by the story. He had an enclosure built for him, and Zippy will always be cared for at IEAS. He was named after Stewart’s Crew Chief Greg Zipadelli. I don’t know much about NASCAR, but I am now a Tony Stewart fan.
A few others of my favorites:
TAJ – A male Siberian tiger is also known as “Elvis.” While hanging on a tire with his teeth, he lost one of his canines. When he growls, he has the Elvis look with the raised lip. As if on cue, Taj did his Elvis impersonation.
TASSERS – This very old bobcat, 21 years, is never in a very good mood. He has arthritis and doesn’t move well. He let us know he didn’t want us there.

Guaranteed to be in a bad mood,

Tassers invites us to leave his enclosure.


As cute and cuddly as these guys are, they are wild animals. No one, except an animal behavior expert, ever enters their enclosure…and that’s ONLY when they are having a good day.
As much as I’d love to have a lion, I know the lion would rule the roost. The 13 pounds of food a day would be a problem. That would be 39 cans of Nine Lives.

It’s a wonderful place. Don’t miss it when you are in the Dallas/ Ft. Worth area. The best anyone can do for these wonderful animals is to visit and support them.
http://www.bigcat.org/

New Blog and We're Back..............

WELCOME TO THE NEW BLOG. This is all new and in an easier format than the last one.

WE ARE BACK from Texas and New Orleans. Not only was this a business trip for me, but it was also a pleasure trip to see my daughter, son-in-law and granddaughter.
The drive to Texas was uneventful, driving all the way through Tennessee, and the endless State of Arkansas. When we got to Texas, the GPS instructed us to take a two lane road for the next three or so hours. That was an education. In this very rural part of northeast Texas we saw lots of interesting things including a 30-passenger commercial airplane for sale in someone’s front yard. In Tennessee, some of us have yard sales with minor junk for sale, but in Texas they have planes for sale in their front yards. I guess that proves the “everything’s bigger in Texas” rule.
True to the “when Mel drives we get really bad weather” rule, we ran into a vicious thunderstorm in the middle of somewhere, Texas. Lightning, thunder and the obligatory torrential rains hit on the two-lane road. It was reminiscent of last summer when we were driving from Vegas to the Grand Canyon and I got the “driving in the mountains thunderstorm from hell” outside of Flagstaff. In one hour, I drove through a dangerous thunderstorm, complete with hail and a thirty-degree temperature drop. While Vince slept, I felt the rented Jeep skidding off the road as we went up and down a mountain. During the second half of that hour, I drove through a “controlled burn” by the U.S. Forest Service. Blinding smoke and near suffocation made me wonder was an “uncontrolled burn” would be like?
After getting a day of business out of the way (I am consulting for a children’s music company franchise in Ft. Worth), we had some fun with Clarissa, my wild two-and one-half year-old granddaughter. After endless showings of “The Wiggles,” “The Music Man,” and “Mary Poppins,” we escaped for a night to a casino just over the border in Oklahoma. Suffice it to say, we’ve been to better casinos.
Last year, we wandered through some of the nicer casinos in Vegas – Venetian, Bellagio, Wynn. This was very different. Most people we saw were probably in the Witness Protection Program. We won $10 on the slots and cashed out. We decided we would forego any more cheap casinos.
Despite the 99-degree heat and “The Wiggles”, we had fun!
AND IT’S ON TO THE CAT SANCTUARY AND NEW ORLEANS….