Survivor

I just finished reading the new book that was just released last week by Mackenzie Phillips.

'High on Arrival' is the title to her book.

Wow! What a life she has lived....no let's make that...what a life she has survived.

You remember Mackenzie from the television sitcom One Day at a Time and her first big screen acting job in the movie American Graffiti. She is the daughter of John Phillips of the 60's rock 'n roll group, The Mama's and the Papa's.

To put it bluntly, there is no earthly reason for Mackenzie to be alive today and sharing her story with those of us that enjoyed the music from early in our generation. It is obvious to me that our Creator has a plan for her and will use her in reaching others through her tumultuous childhood and almost lifelong abuse of drugs that nearly took her life.

I picked the book up last weekend and finished it just today.

Even though I basically read it from cover to cover in less than 24 hours, it was easy for me to read simply due to the fact that I enjoy reading true stories and learning about people of my generation. No politics involved, just the music of our youth and the life style that ran parallel with it. The generation of making love and not war.

After finishing the book today, I wanted to share it here with you. Some parts of the book are tough to read and hard to get your mind wrapped around due to the nature of the activities and the lifestyle of the rich and famous in the 1960's.

There has been a lot of controversy from her family pertaining to the 'tell-all' format of the book. After reading the book, I can understand the concern, but I found myself pulling for Mackenzie as the story unwound.

I see it as a form of healing that Mackenzie needed so that she could turn the corner and escape the 'monster' that had taken up residence in her life. The monster was the drug habit she lived with and her daily encounters with her monster will take the reader into places never imagined. Let me warn you that some of the language may not be suitable for tender ears...providing you read out loud...so read it quietly to yourself.

'High on Arrival' pretty much sums up the storyline....but you need to get you a copy and read it for yourself. If the 60's meant anything to you...I'll wager a bet that after reading the story, your opinion of the author will be something you didn't see coming.

Sound OFF...

This will be simply my opinion...and the only one that matters due to the fact...this is my blog. Feel free to reply with all of your comments..puleeze.

Driving etiquette...or the lack thereof.

In particular the ramps along the freeways of our area. Folks these ramps have specific reasons for being in the places you find them.

For the ease of getting on and off of the freeway and not winding up in Hardin County or heading to Houston.

Plain and simple...getting on the freeway...use the ramp to accellerate to match the flow of traffic already flowing.

That's why it's called an 'ON' ramp...you're getting on the freeway and everybody is moving smoothly until you decide to grace the roadway with your attempt at driving.

I now understand the phrase from NASCAR about..."putting someone into the wall..."

Luckily for you, NASCAR is not the real world...for most folks it's common sense and common courtesy...but then how can it be common when a lot of people don't have it....common sense that is.

The off ramps are the same theory in reverse...BUT don't slow down to the posted speed limit on the service road a half mile before you get to the exit...the ramp is designed for the de-accelleration and blending into that flow of traffic....again common sense here. But I digress with the common sense theory...

Drive safe and read this when you get home ... please.

..must of been the meds

Saw the doctor yesterday. Basically all good news...even if I do have to keep my arm in a sling for a spell.

There is a time for all seasons, and right about now it appears to be the season for healing of damaged shoulders.

I admit to you.....my few and faithful readers...I am about to learn a little more about patience along this path than I originally thought.

The visit with my doctor enlightened me to the fact that I had almost completely severed my bicep tendon but was still hanging by a few threads. The rotator cuff was ultimately unscathed which left the tendon to be dealt with.

In short, the tendon was re-attached to the humerus ...(which ain't even thinking about being funny) by some modern day, medically named, just what the doctor ordered....screw thingy.

I am also told that within time, the tendon will attach itself to the bone.. and along with those infamous words ringing in the background...be good as new.

Good as new, 'eh? I'll take it!

After the good doctor shared this wonderful news with me, I set about putting my shirt back on along with my new little best friend, the SLINGSHOT2 arm sling. The nurse made a return visit to see what was taking so long with me coming out of the exam room.....

Well hey, I am but one middle-aged man with one good arm and associated factory installed left-hand....trying to button my shirt...give me a second or two.

Upon leaving the doctors office with the stitches removed and feeling good about the prognosis, I waited out front along the drive-thru drop-off area for my soon to be nominated for sainthood loving wife to arrive to take me home.

Soon after returning home, looking at my reflection in my bathroom mirror, I realized that single-handed as I was, I managed to miss-button my shirt...it's no wonder the nurse was stifling a laugh when I so proudly walked out of the exam room and down the hall....my wife almost fell down laughing at the sight of her independent spousal unit standing before her in his lime green fishing shirt all askew....

Well done Mr. Independent-Fluorescent-Lime-Green-Fishing-Shirt-Wearing-Shoulder-Patient Sir...well done.

Now for some ice on my one good hand....CINDY!!!!

Just Holler...

Recovering from shoulder surgery this past Tuesday...this post may take me a bit longer, but you will never know exactly how long ....will you?

Being a new writer, I am constantly on the 'listen' for a topic.

Sitting in the 'pre-op' cubicle Tuesday morning, not one but two different nurses prepping me for the procedure reminded me upon exiting the curtain framed room...

"If you need anything....just holler."

The second reminder prompted both me and my wife Cindy to a memory of our first born and the passage from diapers to being a big girl and getting 'potty' trained.

We would position her and told her that when she was through....to just holler.

Within a few moments, lost in the program we were watching, we heard her voice from down the hallway...reaching an octave never before believed possible....

"Holll....er!"

Such a smart child she is. She absolutely listened and did just as instructed. She hollered when she was ready for our assistance.

I have been doing my share of hollering around the house since coming home from the day surgery. Cindy has been available for my every request.

She even takes her cell phone to bed with her, just in case I may need her during the night...from the living room where I have taken up residence..I can simply call her.

Truth be known...I haven't called yet...scared to wake her up...but I know she would be there if I did need her.

As she closes the door and turns out the lamps for my attempt to get some sleep in the not so comfortable over stuffed chair....she tells me....

"Just holler...."

Family Time

Do you ever wonder about the people that come into your life? The planned arrivals are usually predictable and basically surprise free for the most of us...but those unexpected pleasures that just sneak up on you and quietly make their appearance to you. So unassuming they are.

Times like that make me stop and wonder where the hidden camera is.

Who out there is setting me up....and why me.... why today?

I had the pleasure of coaching both Little League Softball for my daughter and Little League Baseball for my son for a total of about 9 years worth of fun and adventure. Some years way more memorable than others when the parents remembered.....IT, meaning the sport...the game was for the kids...not us parents.

I was always amazed at how many of the dads could drop the kids off for practice but never could make it early enough for helping out on the field prep for game days. They would always show up just as the first pitch was made....perfect timing that was.

There was one year that stands out for me. My assistant coach and I were handed the roster of our team and the league president mentioned something about one of our players was new to the league and put him on my team for obvious reasons.

I guess the reasons were many but mostly were simple because I was so good at what I did, had a good rapport with the parents, never created problems, and was one of the older managers in the league that could probably do really well with a new kid.

Hey, these kids were 5 and 6 years old...how tough could it be?

To my surprise, this new kid had a parent that was....how do I say this....well known in the area.

Not just in the area, but pretty much known across the country.....country music that is. The main concern for this situation was that both of the parents wished for the focus to be on their son, and not particularly on the well known parent.

Things worked out pretty well that year. We won a few games. Had the usual team parties during and after the season. Thought it was kinda neat to have a country music entertainer among the parents in the stands...who loved the fact he could come to the games and not get mobbed by the local fans for what he did and take the attention away from the son playing baseball.

During the capping ceremony where all the players are introduced to the entire league, Mark would make it a point to find us where we were lined up prior to the team introduction. Make some small talk with the coaches and then venture off to take advantage of the photo opportunity when his son received his team cap at home plate.

I was not able to acquire Mark's son the next year. The next years level included the draft system and I didn't get the boy on my team. I haggled with the coach for a trade, but he informed me that his wife loved the music that Mark played and was told to hold onto him for her.


Yeah right, he knew that boy was a player....trying to tell me his wife was a country music lover....do I look like I just fell off the turnip truck?

At next years capping ceremony....Mark looked me up on the field again...like friends do. We chatted and he was trying to stifle a laugh. I asked him what was up, and he just mentioned the extra 'T' in the last name on his sons jersey...and we both had a good laugh.

The team mom had mis-spelled the last name.... CHESTNUTT

Hey, stuff even happens on little league fields with big fans of country music stars.

My thanks to Mark Chesnutt for sharing some family time with us.

It is what it is......

You Never Know

Usually it takes about 2 or 3 days for the doubt to creep in....where it will set up housekeeping in the back of my mind.

I am speaking of what every writer calls .... "writers block".

Writers block is capable of setting the parking brake on the flow of creative juices...much like sunblock will hinder the UV rays of the sun....only better...or worse, depending if you're the writer or the one sitting in the sun.

Trying to decide what to write about that might entertain you folks out there who are kind enough to spend an average of 2 minutes and 44 seconds per visit and keep you coming back for another dose sometimes is like a dog chasing its tail....humorous to watch, about as productive, and leaves you wondering about you and your pets sanity.

Lots of stuff going on in this old East Texas boys life this past week or so...more distractions than
you can shake a stick at with school starting tomorrow and being bitten last week by an undisclosed species of spider...which by the rate of healing....now as been determined NOT to be of the dangerous category.

Just mentioning spiders causes me to shiver a bit. I really don't care for those eight legged creatures that God gave us.

For you hunters out there, if you have spent any amout of time in the woods of East Texas, you all know about the infamous 'banana' spiders that spin their webs across every cow or game trail in the Big Thicket...just waiting for you to walk into and then spend the next several minutes wiping away their sticky old web and then searching for the spider that you can never locate.....and leaves you wondering where the heck it went.....but this may have to be shared with you later so let's get back to this weeks issue of my stumbling and stammering around.....

As I was speaking of earlier, there's writers block to contend with along with all the 'stuff' that finds its way into the daily mix...so you never really know who, what, or where your inspiration will come....but it always does.

I had even thought about maybe this blog thing wasn't gonna fly and flirted with just taking a short time off and away from the keyboard...then BAM...there it is. So unexpected but so obvious.

The credit for this piece goes to my neighbor across the street...Mrs. Arena.

Actually this is the second time she played into my game without her knowing. She was the inspiration behind the story about "Headlights and Tail-lights"....and of all places like the grocery store to run into her, she smiled and greeted me about how much she and some friends of hers were enjoying my blog.

Timing is everything and the fact that our paths crossed as I was entering the store and you were leaving with your purchases proves to me again about being just a small player in this thing called life. Ten or fifteen seconds either way and I would have missed your blessing of encouragement today.

Just so you will know Mrs. Arena....your kind and generous remarks concerning this small space I claim in cyber-space...were well timed and received. That is 'just' what I needed...the old shot in the
arm for keeping on ....."keeping on".


....and I thank you.

You Gotta Wonder

How's your funny bone doing?

Not the funny bone in your elbow, the funny bone that defines your sense of humor. The part of you that lets you find the funny stuff in your life.

I always say that you gotta laugh to keep from crying these days. Laughter is good for the soul. Which brings about the question...

Do you think that God likes baseball? Of course He does and He even had it documented in His Word.

So you didn't know that baseball is mentioned in the Bible? Yep, it sure is and it must be a favorite sport of our Creator since He had it recorded right there up front of everything else....and you most likely have heard it before too.....

"In the Big-Inning...."

You get it don't you..? in the beginning..God created ... (just checking...)

While sitting in the drive-thru this A.M. at the local McDonalds, my son and I noticed...let's call them mature... a mature couple arriving for their morning coffee and breakfast.

Just as they came to a stop in the parking spot, you could tell that the wife was just a wee bit irritated with her husband of several years....reason we knew this was due to the 'body-language' she had going on with her head and the clear, concise, and complete -who-the-boss-is reply...before they exited the car...

It couldn't have been too terribly bad since he did carry in both of their McDonald's logo loaded coffee mugs for their meal.

I casually asked my son if he wanted to wager a bet as to how long the couple had been blissfully married..and he added that could be or should be changed to....'blisteringly' married.

After witnessing this early morning event, another question surfaced...

If a husband is in the woods and makes a decision, with no wife actually there, is he still just as wrong?

Yeah, I might catch a bit of the business from that remark...but that would mean that whoever gives me the flak, actually went online and read this blog....I'll take that chance.

Our son is beginning to hone his own sense of humor, but this morning, he really got me.

While at the doctor's office to complete his required list of immunizations for the school year, he was carrying around the usual basket of nerves. There were 4 shots that he needed to be ready for the coming year and the doctor was doing his usual banter with the patient and commented how several of his female patients had fainted from the ordeal.

As the fourth and final injection was administered, I watched my son sink to his left...thinking he was checking the sense of humor of the doctor....when he hit the exam table....I suddenly realized ....

He ain't joking! The boy actually fainted dead away. His eyes never closed and was only out for just a few seconds....but it sure was enough to stir the emotions of his dad....yeah buddy.

On the way home, I reminded him of the reason for the additional call buzzer in the examining room...had his mother been the one there, the doctor would of had to deal with both of you....a fainting patient and a hysterical mother....

Tomorrow we ...me and my son, will go and do all the registering for his first year in high school.

Chances are, my sense of humor is about to be tested....I will let you know....wish me luck.