Surprising Texas

                                 Exhilaration! “OH!, WOW!, WHAT!?!” One kind of surprise thrills.
                                “Oh, I didn’t know that.  Hmmm.” Another kind of surprise reveals.
                                 Plenty of surprises “deep in the state of Texas.”

               Surprising Todd.  Outside, washing Colorado trail mud and dirt from his vehicle, bending over to position the sprinkler underneath the chassis, he was caught off guard by a strange Highlander pulling into his driveway, beeping that weird little horn.  Only glancing at the car and not at the sneaky passengers, he took on the look of a dumbfounded zombie.  When we opened the car doors and tumbled from the front seat after 11 hours, his mouth formed a big “O” and we had done it again – surprised Todd. After a few ‘what are you doing here?’ exchanges and laughs, he spoke words of truth, “I hope Kathy knows!” Of course, she does.  She invited us.

                   Gulf Breeze Surprise. All I knew about Houston’s weather can be summed up thusly:  Hot. That’s accurate, to a point. Houston is an hour inland from the coast and across Todd and Kathy’s back yard oasis blows a pleasant gulf breeze.  Surprise!  Who knew?  Certainly I did not. Closing my eyes, propping up the tootsies, leaning back and listening to the waterfall gently splashing into the pool, I am transported to a happy, peaceful place and the road tension evaporates.
                   Surprise! Speed limit: 75! Texas highways and interstates.  Fabulously well-marked and easy to navigate. 
                   Galveston’s Beach- surprisingly dirty-brown. The beach, appearing as a sandbar, stretches miles into the gulf.  A 15’ seawall protects the City of Galveston, the attractions, hotels, and restaurants along the shoreline.  Surely if I put my toe into the water, it would emerge filthy.  Three rivers empty into the Galveston region and the run-off seems to pollute the beach.  Hurricane Ike did a number on Galveston 5+ years ago and the area still attempts a recovery.  The Hurricane of 1900, the most devastating regional storm prior to Katrina, flooded the entire island and city and is the focus of Isaac's Storm, a fascinating book I recommend. No surprise: no beaches are as beautiful as those around Orange Beach, Gulf Shores, Destin, and Pensacola.

            Downtown San Antonio, surprisingly lush: site of the Riverwalk, the 1968 World’s Fair, and The Alamo.  The remnants of the World’s Fair boasts The Tower of the Americas, second tallest (tallest is in Las Vegas) spire with restaurant atop. The Riverwalk’s ambiance attracts tourists with shops, restaurants, and overhanging enormous cypress trees, colorful umbrella tables, and mariachi bands.  The river is controlled with 3 locks and dams boasting flood prevention strategies that have worked – especially well with a drought.
One of the many collections at The Alamo displays Davy Crockett artifacts:  his billfold, vest, weapons, ammunition
 bags, and even a plank from his Tennessee cabin, made into a bench on which no one can sit.
                        The gargantuan highway map of Texas takes up the entire front seat in our Highlander. Even with Bossy Betsy and GPS, I like to hold a map. Folding it, however, is a monumental undertaking, (recall Clark Griswold’s map-folding experience in his family Vacation to Walley World).

“Remember the Alamo,” and remember that Texas was its own country (The Republic of Texas) prior to becoming a state.  That leaves little doubt, and no surprise, that everything, including the fun, is bigger on a trip thru Texas.

Hurricane Elvis - 10 years later - Do you remember?

 

           A trip to the ER. Mother was having a spell with CHF (COPD). By 2 AM, July 22, 2003, we were seen by a doctor.  By 3 AM, Mother was admitted to Baptist East Hospital in Memphis, TN, and we were taken to a room. She was bedded down had drifted off to sleep. After all the admission procedures were accomplished, I stretched out on the sofa under the room-width window overlooking the gigantic roof-top air conditioner units. At 5 AM, a storm of enormous magnitude packing winds of 102 mph and torrential rain hit downtown Memphis and continued to rip through the city, heading directly east.
          The hospital air conditioner units were ripped from their tethers and propelled against the window of Mother’s room, shattering the double pane window and littering me with shards of glass.  Had it not been for the reinforced glass and blinds enclosed within the windows, the A/C units themselves would have rocketed onto the couch where I lay listening to gale-force wind, not realizing what was actually happening beyond the hospital fortress.
                           The generator for the hospital powered up and all patients were wheeled into the hallways.  Mother was moved to a different room, for hers was littered with glass fragments.  We had no clue as to the extent of the damage outside Baptist Hospital.       When I left to get some things for Mother and to check on Richard who was staying with neighbors, I saw a snippet of the unbelievable damage produced by these straight line hurricane-force winds, later nicknamed Hurricane Elvis.

What’s life like 10 years after Hurricane Elvis?

#1 – Elvis is still “young” and will never really “leave the building.”
#2 -  Mother died in 2005. 
#3 – I remarried in 2006.
#4 – Retirement for Marvin and me came in 2012.
#5 -  My children grew up.  Richard is in Charleston, SC, working as an urban arborist with Bartlett (!) Tree Service after 3 years at UTC.  David is moving to Delta State University as an assistant soccer coach, completing a master’s degree in Sports Management/Marketing.

#6 – July 22, 2013 –in April, my personal Hurricane Elvis powered into our life. Blowing in unexpectedly, a myxoma was discovered and I underwent heart surgery to remove it. Undetected, it had grown  to the size of a golf ball and had caused me to experience heart failure. This surgery was performed by Dr. Ed Garrett at Baptist Hospital in Memphis, on April 26, 2013. I did not recognize the Hurricane Warnings that had been issued by my body. We relied totally on God’s hand to navigate us through the whitecaps to safe harbor.

                Today as I reflect on the date, and the blessings I’ve experienced in these 10 years, I also note that change has been phenomenal. There have been some tropical storms, some marvelous gulf breezes, and the calm assurance of “sunny and mild.” Today, the 10 year Anniversary of Hurricane Elvis, I am feeling super healthy, grateful for the advances in heart surgery, and basking in the warm, tropical winds of LOVE that swirl gently through my life. 

A Somewhat 'Modest Proposal' with Apologies to Jonathan Smith, 1729

            In the check-out line at the local grocery, the lady ahead of me watched as our cashier scanned and bagged purchases totaling an even $16.00.  “Wow,” she remarked, “how often does that happen?”
            I replied, “You should get a prize, especially since that is not only an even amount, it’s 1600.”
             She agreed immediately; we conversed briefly.
             I was speaking with the paragon of American History knowledge in this local community, the local American history teacher, Belinda Matheny.  She’s also the best cook in the county and bakes pecan pies that go for $50 at auction.  And, chocolate rolls.  Just saying.

            Checking out at Walgreens that morning, my total on the register: $14.92. Of course, I tried (!) to be clever and cute, engaging the young cashier in some friendly banter. It was early.  No one was behind me.
             “My goodness,” I said to the barely-19 year-old cashier, “there should be confetti and balloons!”
              “Huh?”  I need not say whose remark that was.

              “I should get a prize, or an extra bonus buck or something on my Walgreens card.”
              “What?”  A hugely quizzical look from the same spokesperson as before.
               “My total is a famous date in American History, '14 hundred and 92….Columbus Sailed the Ocean Blue.’ Let’s Celebrate. My purchase is free, how about that?”
               “I can’t help you, Ma’m.  I’m just the cashier.  You’ll have to speak to a manager.” No emotion.  Dead-pan. Serious.

              I’m sure she meant that ‘she could not help me’ in numerous ways. (Crazy person at Register 1)

             After speaking with Mrs. Matheny (Her students roll their eyes, “She’s at it again.”), I determined that those of us old enough to actually remember and even have experienced some of America's  history must act to save the country and preserve the world’s "name that date" balance in respect for all that is Holy.
                    We don’t need Superman, or Wolverine, or Spiderman.  We need Amazon, I-Tunes, Facebook, and Candy Crunch Saga.

Herein is a ‘somewhat modest proposal.’
                Instead of scolding the clueless on their ignorance regarding important dates in American History, let’s reward them when they look up from their I-Phones, stop their thumbs from texting for 5 seconds, and allow their eyes to reflect that someone is at home and recognize that they are not the only ones breathing air on the planet. The proposal utilizes the reward system through various current hot commodities: Amazon with “Prime” points, credits, fabulous trips and extra lives or boosters or tokens for favorite  on-line games.
          The reward system should be employed as a tool for good. We must remember, this very-much-younger generation is being raised by our high self-esteemed children who received trophies if they signed-up for competitive breathing, sitting on the bench.  We are the baby-boomer parents who bought those trophies and have boxes of them saved in our attics.

       Imagine the thrill today’s youth might experience when the dollar total registered anywhere between $18.61 and $18.65, or for the sake of the economy, $1861.00-$1865.00. The informed youth could wildly exclaim, “Hey, I think that dollar amount has something to do with the American Civil War, often called the War Between the States, ending when General Robert E. Lee surrendered to

General Ulysses S. Grant inside a private residence at Appomattox Court House, Virginia.” POW! As many as 10 extra lives, one for each detailed tidbit of correct historical information!  A universally significant dollar amount ($17.76 or $1776.00 - you get the picture) accompanied by a spewing forth of factual augmentation would result in a bigger prize, such as thousands of tokens or super-duper super powers.

 

                  Let us then be up and doing, asking not what our country can do for us, but with a heart for any fate, encouraging conversation about educating our youth using cash register receipts or totals contained in on-line Carts.  Gone would be “No Child Left Behind” with Federal oversight.  Bye-bye to math homework, as students would compute their rewards in record speed.  American history teachers’ classes would be filled with students clamoring, begging for information.  It would be a revolution, with consumer-youth now knowledgeable, still spending, and now competing for prizes celebrating their superior knowledge. The nation would be engaged in online conversations and even adults would post to their Facebook Wall as a life event occurred, such as "My grandchild's Cart amount was $19.63 today."  Their friend might respond,  "I like that comment and I'll raise you a $19.69."

               As potentially successful as this ‘somewhat modest proposal’ might seem, it could be taken to yet another level. Should America’s youth purchase a Sonic milkshake or an APP on specific Day/Dates in History, and should they actually recognize the date and acknowledge its significance, fabulous prizes like those on The Price is Right or Wheel of Fortune would be awarded.  Correctly identified purchase dates such as 12/7, 11/22, 9/11, 7/20, or 6/6 would set off celebrations, and with the correct answer rendered within 5 seconds, exotic cruises, concert tickets, box seat tickets for the Final Four or Super Bowl would be awarded.

                 Since so little progress has been made in finding motivational strategies for today’s youth, this ‘somewhat modest proposal’ could make significant progress in elevating our nation’s educational strategy from a “dumbing-down” apparition to an upscale presence with Facebook proportions.  Local school boards that adopt this proposal would find their budgets flush since student learning would be financed by Amazon, GEICO’s gecko, Apple, I-Tunes, Facebook, and Candy Crush Saga.  

Answers:             

1600 Pennsylvania Avenue – the Address of the White House
July 4, 1776 – The United States’ Declaration of Independence Signed by representatives in the Continental Congress at Philadelphia, Pennsylvania….and thus, the revolution began.
1963 – Assassination of John F Kennedy in Dallas, TX
1969 – Man landed on the Moon (Sea of Tranquility)
Dec. 7 – Pearl Harbor attacked by nation of Japan, FDR addresses Nation, states Day that will live in Infamy
Nov. 22 – President Kennedy (JFK) fatally shot
Sept. 11 – Twin Towers attacked and ultimately destroyed by suicide terrorists in hijacked commercial airliners.
July 20 – Man lands on the Moon
June 6 – D-Day – Invasion of Normandy
July, 2013 - Jane signed on to Facebook, and daily life was never the same.

 

Life is filled with "Pop-Ups"

                        It’s July.  It’s Arkansas.  It’s Hot.  Not quite like last summer with the drought, but plenty of heat and humidity. Thus, Arkansas Showers, the “Pop-up” variety. Rather like the Gulf Coast... Well, not much like the Gulf Coast, but an active imagination and any connection to the Gulf, its waves, its sounds, and its breezes help.
                       

Pop-ups bring to mind pop-up campers, which, I must say, have never been used as my Holiday Inn.  Mother succumbed to Daddy’s insistence and once (1 time) agreed to an overnight at DeGray in a camper – not even a pop-up.  Major Acts of God, both tornado and hurricane according to Mother, combined to end the adventure. Daddy never again could cajole Mother into further camping experiences.

              Nature’s beauty is magnificent, but as night falls, spiders and snakes pop-up. I’d much rather experience the sun popping-up while sipping my coffee on the balcony of a Gulf-front condo. Thomas and Lois enjoy camping and answered Colorado’s siren call while on a Pop-Up Camping excursion.  They never returned to Arkansas, especially not in July.

                        Behold: the Surprise Lily.  Naked Ladies.  By whatever name, these beauties “pop-up” where and when you least expect them, all pink and showy, usually in flowery clusters like Vegas dancers, but sometimes all alone with only feathery fans to cover their beauty.

                       The villains in video-games seem to pop-up with a smiling vengeance.  Those ghosts from Pac-Man could capture my gobbling girl or guy from out of nowhere.  My yellow orb with eyes and a chomping mouth could not run fast enough.   That early challenge with Pac-Man and the Mrs. and later with Super Mario Brothers is the only throw-down I undertook.  I’d get very upset when Mario fell to his death in a burning pit of lava, and while I tried to give him wings and a prayer to jump and land safely, death seemed inevitable. 

                                It’s July.  It’s Arkansas.  It’s Hot.  The cotton is in bloom and the bolls will soon pop-up in the North Delta, turning the fields white with unseasonable snow. It’s a gorgeous sight, as far as the eye can see, and white gold to the big-time farmers. Corn is also grown for grain, feed, fuel and some varieties for popcorn.  The chime of the microwave signaling the readiness of Orville’s magic kernels pales by comparison to the anticipation felt as the pan of Jiffy-pop was shaken over the stove’s burner. Watching the dome of foil “pop-up” with delicious, warm, oft-burned but fully expanded kernels of corn was as much of a thrill as Little Joe’s exploits on a TV night with Bonanza.

The best Pop-Up I’ve encountered lately, however, concerns Facebook.  Friends and acquaintances from everywhere pop-up and request “friend” status.  My ’66 classmates and many other Camden Panthers have popped up on my radar and it has been with surprise and pleasure that I have “friended” them, for they have been and always will be special people. I’m so glad they popped-up.   
                  It’s July.  It’s Arkansas.  It’s Hot.  My plan: jump into the pool, trusting I’ll pop-up much cooler than when I went in. The pool is much safer than the ocean, where Jaws might pop-up at any time.  If only those swimmers could hear the music…

Hershey's Kiss: Our Precious Puppy signs up for a Spa Adventure

                 In the California beach communities, individuals skate, blade, jog, and walk, all in the company of their dogs of various breeds. Shop owners have become quite accommodating to these pooches and their owners, as everyone is out for the highest dollar.  All the rage are the doggie hitching-posts in front of the shops, with bowls of fresh water awaiting the lapping parched tongue of Fido who obediently keeps pace with John and Marsha. 

Related to me in the same story was an aside about a little lost pooch.  The sign on the shop window along with notation on size, coloring, breed, name and ID tag and chip statement, “Last seen wearing a black and white polka-dot dress with pearls and white hair bows.” (The dog pictured to the left is NOT Hershey.)
                        I’m not far removed from such, for Hershey does have a roll-collar red and white sweater, a pink and green sweater, and a lined winter coat with hood.  She does not have boots, nor do I dress her, except occasionally for Christmas or Razorback ballgames! 

Arkansas summers are just too hot and she prances around in her summer haircut, knowing how “darling” she looks, especially with the pink bows.  Her collar is pink & white polka-dot. Along with her rabies tag, she has an ID tag, a “diamond” heart charm and a pink purse charm.  She is every bit the lady.
                       So, when Marvin and I travel this time– Hershey will go to the Spa.  Ok, Ok…I know that may be a bit over the top. Pam, David, Colby, and sweet neighbor girls have been wonderful about short-term Hershey-sitting, but this time, the trip will call for more.  Dear Hershey is an old girl (older than me, older than Cher!) and has developed cataracts, has fewer teeth than she started with, and is slightly deaf.  Though she does not play very much anymore, she craves human companionship and baby-talk.  She would not do well in a cage.
                               All Paws Pet Resort will be her Spa Escape for a few days.  She’ll be in the Puppy Area and she’ll have private accommodations where her own bed, bowls, blankies, and food will be set up just for her.  The owners play with the puppies and other dogs.  No big dogs are with the tiny ones (such as 8lb. Hershey). The doggies have inside play time, outside time, quiet time, food time, etc. I don’t think she’ll get a manicure or pedicure, but she might enjoy a shampoo before coming home.
                                  Theresa, one of the owners, told me that she often gets one of the smaller dogs and lets it stay with her in the office.  Hershey loves to put her paw on the computer and sits in my lap when I read the morning paper, so Theresa will have a willing companion.

                                Boarding services are available at veterinary clinics and grooming spots, but we don’t have the Pet Smart Hotel facility, as in Memphis.  The Travel With Us group recommended All Paws Resort, so, here’s hoping that Hershey will enjoy her Spa Adventure as much as her Mama enjoys hers.

 

Summer Needs No Help Exclaiming: "Hot Pink!"

"You’re a helper, aren’t you?” she asked softly. 
I chuckled. “Am I helping too much?”
“I can tell by your hands,” she replied, as she brushed on the second coat of clear.

My trip to Memphis included a manicure at Gould’s on Germantown Parkway, a Christmas gift card bonus from Colby Kennedy.

To amplify, Ms Mary was noticing how I anticipated her next move, had internalized her routine, and moved my hands, fingers to ease her ministrations.
                   “Some ladies,” she noted, “are limp noodles; their hands don’t move in any way.  You have to be encouraged to relax, even your fingers,” and she gently flexed my ring finger so it would curl, not be held at little soldier attention.
                         "You’ve got me pegged,” I responded, shaking my head with a slight smile, recalling how my shoulders used to gang up around my ears while I was working.  She has not seen tense.  This is a good day, I nodded to myself.
                            Her touch was gentle and cool as she continued her work, glamorizing my nails with the French manicure.
                            As thoroughly as I enjoy the hand, wrist, and lower arm massage, it ended much too quickly. That treat is almost as relaxing as silently swooning while the kind beautician combs through my freshly shampooed hair with her fingertips, as long as she recognizes, “I’m tender-headed.”
                         Our hands, our finger-tips, and our mannerisms tell our tale, which is why I’m considering the purchase of glittery stars and tiny flowers to adorn my pearly white fingertips begging to be heard over my toe nails as they shout, “Hot Pink!”