Better to bloom late than never

I’m going to write a book. I am writing a book. I have a million book ideas. So why can’t I get any traction with them?

As many of you know, one of my hobbies is doing historical reenactments of the Texas Revolution. I got into the hobby because I wanted to write a book about Texas Revolution reenactors. I’ve been working on it for 10 years now. It’s become a running joke whenever I show up at a reenactment for someone to ask me how my book is coming along.

What no one else knows is that I have another book I’ve been wanting to write since 1986, nearly 40 years. That one is about my experiences on staff at a Boy Scout camp. In the interim I have started and stopped writing books about Star Trek, The Lone Ranger, and a compilation of some of my columns from the past 30 years. I have a few other ideas bouncing around in my head, but nothing scribbled out on paper yet.

With the passing of my 60th birthday in August, I’ve come to accept that when I finally do become a published author that I will officially join an elite group of late bloomers. Maybe we’re better described as chronic procrastinators. Either way I’m in good company.

Col. Harland Sanders was 62 when he started Kentucky Fried Chicken. Laura Ingalls Wilder was in her 60s when she started writing the Little House books. Ray Kroc was in his 50s when he co-founded McDonalds. Anna Mary Robertson Moses, aka Grandma Moses, was 78 when she started painting. Peter Mark Roget was in his 70s when he published his famous thesaurus. Harry Bernstein wrote “The Invisible Wall” at 96 and went on to write three more books, the last one at 100.

Joseph A. Campbell was 52 when he started a canning company and 78 when he first canned soup. Miguel de Cervantes wrote “Don Quixote” at age 58. John Pemberton was 55 when he created the formula for Coca-Cola. Fauja Singh started running marathons at 89 and was killed in a hit-and-run accident earlier this year at the age of 114. “Star Trek” actor William Shatner was 90 when he became the oldest person to go to space in 2021.

In February, we celebrated Sports Editor Robert “Cease” Cessna’s 50th anniversary at The Eagle, and he is still going strong. A year ago, my father celebrated his 80th birthday by doing a tandem skydive. If you think that’s impressive, his mother-in-law joined him to celebrate her 94th birthday!

The point is, you’re never too old to learn new things, have new experiences or to impact the world in marvelous ways. That’s not an indictment of youth, but rather motivation and inspiration for those of us flirting with retirement age. No, I’m not courting retirement, I’m just getting closer to that age. I still have a lot of years and work ahead of me.

Sandy and I moved to Brazos County two years ago and started a hobby farm on our little plot of land. It has taken an enormous amount of work, but we are now raising chickens, ducks, rabbits and a goose we named Duckie. We’ve made numerous attempts at gardening with little to show for it. Still, we soldier on, putting in the work and praying for success.

Doing all that work on the farm is part of my excuse for not finishing any of my books. By the time I get home from a long day at work and do chores, it’s late and my mind is mush. At the same time, I can’t help but notice that my friend and former colleague, Gary Cosby Jr., who is a photojournalist with the Tuskaloosa News, has written and published 21 novels in his Will Danger adventure series in his spare time since 2022. Gary is about my age and how he manages to crank out books at such a frenetic pace is beyond me.

One of the things that keeps motivating me is the quote by Oliver Wendall Holmes that says, “Many people die with their music still in them. Too often it is because they are always getting ready to live. Before they know it time runs out.”

I have a lot of “music” in me that’s just bursting to get out. Rather than disciplining myself to sit down and write each night, I get distracted by things of urgency or lesser importance. Let’s call that procrastination. If I spent half the time I waste scrolling through Facebook working on my books, I’d probably have written two or three books by now.

In hindsight, it’s obvious what I need to do to achieve my goals: Buy more chickens!

The Elvis beat lives on

 It was an overcast, rainy day on Aug. 16, 1977, in Longmont, Colorado, and I was browsing through racks of records at the Record City record store at the Horizon Park Mall when news broke on the radio station they were playing about the death of Elvis Presley.

It was shocking but I really didn’t care. At the time I wasn’t much of an Elvis fan. Yet I couldn’t help but notice the sudden migration of shoppers to the rack with his albums. Radio stations played his music and television stations ran special coverage ad nauseam.

I was 12 years old when Elvis cacked on his crapper. At the time I was enamored with “Star Wars” and preferred listening to the likes of Waylon Jennings, Loretta Lynn, Dolly Parton, Kenny Rogers, etc. I did like some of Evis’s songs, but mostly I thought they were corny. He was a buffoon in those glitzy jumpsuits, albeit a really cool looking buffoon.

There was no way at the time that I could remotely imagine that I would become a fan and write so much about him. His music grew on me over the years and even the corny stuff about hound dogs, catching rabbits and blue suede shoes became kind of retro cool.

The first time I wrote about the King of Rock ’n’ Roll was in 1992 when the U.S. Postal Service held a contest to vote for a likeness for a postage stamp. You could choose between the young Elvis in the leather jacket or the old Elvis in the jumpsuit.

I was working in Elizabeth City, North Carolina, at the time and two guys at the local post office dressed up as versions of each. The young Elvis won the nationwide contest, and the stamp made its debut on Jan. 8, 1993.

The next time I wrote about Elvis was in 2007, the 30th anniversary of his death, while I was working in Amarillo. A local woman recalled the story of how she kissed the King not once, but on two occasions. Not long after that I wrote a story about an Elvis impersonator (or tribute artist, as they prefer to be called). He was good and was gearing up to enter a statewide Elvis tribute contest. He didn’t win.

A few years ago while I was working in Sealy, the chamber of commerce held its annual banquet with an Elvis impersonator as the night’s entertainment. He was awful! The event was fun and I got a good story out of him, but he just couldn’t sing worth squat.

In 2022 I wrote a column for the Wharton newspaper about seeing “Elvis,” the movie starring Austin Butler as Elvis and Tom Hanks as Col. Tom Parker. Sandy and I went to see it in the theater and really loved it. Both men shined in their performances.

Fast-forward to yesterday’s paper and I wrote a feature story about the 70th anniversary of Elvis’s concert in College Station at the G. Rollie White Coliseum. I interviewed Ernie Fulton of Franklin for the story. He is the only person alive who attended the show that I could contact. He was very kind and gracious and had good memories of the event. I enjoyed getting to meet him, his wife and their three daughters.

Now, here I am again writing about Elvis. As I’ve been focusing my attention on Elvis this week I’ve been listening to a lot of his music. I have about a dozen favorites on my iPhone. I suppose I’m heading for an Elvis Presley burnout, but not yet.

I know I have written other things about Elvis over the years, but these are the stories that stand out in my mind. Sometimes it feels like I’ve become an Elvis beat writer and he’s been dead 48 years.

I was in Memphis in 2008 to participate in the Memphis Film Festival where we were celebrating the anniversaries of The Lone Ranger and Superman. While I was there, I wanted to tour Graceland. Once I saw the admission price, I decided I had better things to do with my time. I think general admission was $50, which is outrageous. Still, touring Graceland remains a tiny drop on my bucket list. Maybe the next time I’m in town I’ll check it out.

In the meantime, I think I might cue up “Elvis” on TV and get my fix that way. After that, I’ll give him a rest and wait for the next comeback opportunity to write about him again. The 50th anniversary of his death is in two years. Who knows, maybe it will be an overcast, rainy day and I can pull out some Elvis records and relive a moment forever frozen in time from my childhood.

Wonky words of a wordsmith

 

If you ever think English is not a weird language, just remember that read and lead rhyme and read and lead rhyme. But read and lead don’t rhyme, and neither do read and lead.

Thank you, Facebook, for that. But wait, there’s more:

I love waterlemons.

You that read wrong.

You read that wrong, too.

After 38 years as a professional journalist, I’ve come to appreciate the linguistic gymnastics of the English language. In journalism school we were taught to use the KISS principle – keep it simple, stupid. In other words, don’t use a big word when a singularly unloquacious and diminutive linguistic expression will satisfactorily accomplish the contemporary necessity.

You have to appreciate the irony of English. For example, “phonetic” is not. “Abbreviation” has 12 letters. “Monosyllabic” has five syllables. There is no synonym for “thesaurus.” The word “little” is twice the size of “big.” Have you ever noticed that the two o’s in “cooperate” have their own separate sounds? And which letter, the “S” or the “C,” is silent in “scent.”

Another thing I’ve noticed is the unusual number of four-letter words used to describe excrement: Poop, crap, dung, pile, skat, and, of course, that other word that shall not be named. Should you need to expel excrement, it is said that you are taking a dump. After you take a dump, you can pile that skat on the dung heap and not give a crap about that poop anymore.

There is a late comedian who, among other things, was noted for making fun of the English language. He went by his last name of Gallagher, and he was best known for smashing fruits and vegetables with a large wooden mallet he called the Sledge-O-Matic. To me, the best part of his schtick was the way he poked fun at the spelling and pronunciation of certain words. Among them are bomb, tomb, comb, home, some, numb and dumb. They’re not so funny in print. You really need to watch one of his videos to see the snarky, sarcastic (snarkastic?) way he presents it.

You then need to watch him smash things with the Sledge-O-Matic, especially the waterlemons!

When I was a student, I struggled with the rules of grammar. They say “I” comes before “E” except when your foreign neighbor Keith receives eight counterfeit beige sleighs from feisty caffeinated weightlifters. Weird!

I also struggle with words that sound the same or have similar spellings. I have mixed up paltry and psaltery, disperse and disburse, aisle and isle, affect and effect, advice and advise, cite and site, counselor and councilor, principle and principal, and so on. And don’t lie, I know you have, too!

Something I do enjoy is a good pun, or as they have come to be known, dad jokes.

I have a pet tree. It’s a lot like a pet dog but the bark is much quieter.

What does a thesaurus eat for breakfast? A synonym roll.

Argentina is surprisingly cold. In fact, it’s bordering on Chile.

I have to confess to plagiarizing liberally from Facebook memes to write this week’s column. Simply said, I’m just not that smart or witty. The following sentence, however, is my own creation, bombastically summoned from yet more memes. (Hint: you might want to have a dictionary or thesaurus nearby.)

The nefarious, narcissistic snollygoster, who is truculent in his apocryphal perspective of scientific fact, is obdurate in his deleterious and execrable actions and has ineffably bamboozled the obsequiously sycophantic gudgeons and lickspittles of his own party and much of the country to acquiesce unquestioningly to his incorrigible and reprehensible mandates.

As I conclude my wordy prose, I shall reread what I wrote to make sure I am content with the content, least I wind up this post and throw it in the wind.

Life hacks and hackers

 

It’s amazing how easily we can complicate our lives. Technology developed to ease our labors have only fueled us to do more … and less. The more connected we become the more disconnected we find ourselves. The stress can be overwhelming.

Most of my childhood was spent in the 1970s. It was a groovy time to be alive. The most complicated things I owned were my bicycle and a radio. Those two things and a fishing pole gave me endless hours of entertainment. Kids today would be bored stiff with those items. They just don’t have the attention span to focus on something – or nothing – for hours on end. Honestly, thanks to technology I don’t think I have much of an attention span anymore.

Like most people, our lives have become so complicated that the thought of doing nothing is countercultural. Actually doing nothing can cause feelings of guilt or anxiety. Even while relaxing in front of the TV I find myself pulling out my iPhone and thumbing through apps.

Back in the ’70s I picked up a love of reading. I read books constantly in my down time. I even made time to read. Textbooks, not so much. But a Clive Cussler thriller or a book tied to a movie, you bet! In 2008 I had a change of employment that gave me an hour-long commute in each direction. I started listening to audiobooks on my commute to pass the time and never looked back.

I probably listen to 20-30 books a year. I try to read at least three to four physical books a year, but mostly I listen to them.

The late Zig Ziglar called this Dashboard University. I know that because I listened to many of his books. Most more than once. He said you could get the equivalent of a college degree or even a Ph.D. just by listening to books in your car. I agree. I’ve listened to many self-help books from many authors and have picked up a few tips along the way.

One of my first observations is how counterintuitive the best advice seems to be.

Take this quote from Ziglar for example: “You can have everything in life you want, if you will just help enough other people get what they want.” It doesn’t seem right that the best way to get ahead is to put others first, but it’s true. The more time and energy you give to others comes back to you in generous portions.

One of my favorite contrarians is author and podcaster Daniel Pink. He often couches his advice in ways that seem contrary to the norms. He recently had a podcast about how the best way to do more is to do less. Pink explained that by taking on fewer tasks and projects you can focus your energy on making the ones you do better and more significant. Another of his podcasts, or Pinkcasts as he calls them, said the best way to get more energy is to get more sleep. Your mind and body need rest to function better.

Another noted author and speaker who offers solid countercultural advice is Dave Ramsey. I had an opportunity to interview him several years ago and Sandy and I attended one of his conferences. He is a personal finance guru noted for helping people get out of debt and grow wealth. In a world where debt is the norm, he encourages people to be abnormal and to live below their means. “You need to live like no one else so later you can live and give like no one else,” he said.

His philosophy is to live on less than you make, pay off all your debts, save money and then be generous with your wealth.

Although generosity and selfless service are essential to a good life, taking care of yourself is equally important. You can’t help others if you’re messed up. I’ve read and listened to a lot of books about diet and health. From dozens of books by doctors and researchers coming from different perspectives, I’ve learned a few things about caring for yourself.

In no particular order, these are the essentials: get plenty of rest, exercise daily, drink water, and eat whole, natural foods. Turn off all of your screens at least 30 minutes before going to bed. Sleep eight to 10 hours a night. Get about 30 minutes of exercise a day, even if it’s just going for a walk.

Eliminate all soft drinks. Limit yourself to water, tea, black coffee, or an occasional wine or beer (something fermented). Eat only whole, organic foods. Avoid processed foods. The three things in the modern American diet that are causing the most health problems are wheat, sugar and high-fructose corn syrup.

The stuff that passes for wheat flour today is not the same thing we had prior to World War II. It has become so hybridized, modified and loaded with additives that it is actually very bad for you. The same for sugar. It has been highly processed and is reportedly more addictive than cocaine. High-fructose corn syrup is a cheap sweetener with links to obesity, liver problems, and type 2 diabetes, to name a few.

To summarize these ramblings, the main things to improve your life are to slow down, get rest, minimize screen time, live within your means, practice healthy habits and be generous.

Of all the self-help gurus I’ve read, none is more important than Jesus. I’ve read his book more than a dozen times. His messages of love, forgiveness and self-sacrifice are timeless, true and stand above everything else. I highly recommend it.

Prevent suicide by overcoming stigmas

 

No one else knew. There’s no way they could know. I hadn’t told anyone.

As I sat in the courtroom covering the regular meeting of the Brazos County Commissioners Court on Tuesday, Aug. 26, my heart was breaking. While the commissioners were presenting a proclamation about September being Suicide Awareness Month, it was all I could do to choke back tears and keep a straight face. That day would have been my middle brother’s 59th birthday.

I should have been texting or calling him back in Colorado to wish him a happy birthday. Instead, I was reminded of how he ended his life with a single gunshot four years earlier.

It was Jan. 1, 2021. Don was about to be evicted from his home. My youngest brother showed up that morning to help him move. He rang the doorbell and heard the gun go off. In an instant, our lives changed forever. Don’s final message to the world was a three-word note that said, “cremate this body.”

Don is a classic case for suicide awareness. He was a Navy veteran and had mental health issues in addition to other health problems. It is estimated that 17.6 military veterans take their lives every day. Don suffered from self-imposed loneliness, which is a leading factor in suicide. In hindsight, we should have seen it coming. We just didn’t want to believe that he had reached that point.

My dad, brother and I did what we could to reach out to him. He was a recluse and frequently cut off communication with the family for long periods of time. My brother took Don in for a while to help get him cleaned up, find a job and get back on his feet. It was all for naught. As soon as he returned home Don quit his job and quit talking to the family.

I tried from afar to get him connected to various social services and nonprofit agencies. We’d get him set up and then he would no-show.

We spent years trying to work with him, but it was like moving one step forward and two steps back. In the end, his passing, although very painful, was also a relief. There is a lot of stress and heartache that goes on when you try to help a loved one who rebuffs your efforts. I don’t think we’ll ever understand why we couldn’t get through to him.

When someone close to you takes their life, you can’t help but take it personally. You automatically ask yourself why you didn’t see this coming. What could I have done to prevent this? What were the warning signs? Blaming yourself is a natural part of the grief process. The bottom line is it is not your fault.

There are many cases such as cyberbullying where someone pushes a person to the brink of suicide, and in those cases the bully does bear responsibility. The ultimate decision to end one’s life, however, remains in the hands of the deceased.

One of the main reasons I’m sharing Don’s story is to help overcome the stigma of talking about suicide. As a journalist I’ve always been taught that we don’t report on deaths if it is a suicide out of concern that it might somehow glorify suicide or encourage copycat behavior. The truth is, we do need to talk about it. It’s a conversation we can’t have unless we address mental health issues as well.

I know this from personal experience. Years ago, I suffered from chronic depression. I had bouts where I no longer wanted to live. I wasn’t prepared to kill myself, but I just didn’t feel like living anymore. Each time I went to those dark places in my mind, I received help. I thank God that I have a loving family and supportive church family to watch out for me. I had a mental illness. I got treatment and today I am thriving. There is help and hope.

We must all learn to watch out for each other. We need to overcome the taboos and stigmas of talking about mental health and suicide. There was once a time when it was socially unacceptable to talk about things like cancer and alcoholism. Where did that get us?

It’s by opening up and engaging in conversation and sharing our experiences that we learn how to overcome problems and heal. Having a mental health problem is no different than any other medical condition. The brain is an organ, just like any other part of the body. When it gets sick, it needs treatment.

I encourage you to take advantage of September as Suicide Awareness Month to learn about the causes and how you can spot symptoms in your friends and colleagues. Together we can make a difference and save lives.

Fall means it's time for football follies

 

This is the weekend that football fans have been longing for and football widows have been dreading for months.

High school, college and professional football have officially kicked off (preseason doesn’t count). It also marks the start of fantasy football, which is a beast all its own.

In 2001, my former college roommate, Terry Barber, invited me to join this new thing called fantasy football. I had never heard of it before, but I always enjoyed kicking his butt in a board game called Bowl Bound by Avalon Hill, so I figured it would be a good way to reconnect and continue the smackdown.

The Barber League is a Yahoo league, and it largely consisted of Terry, his brother Dan, and a bunch of Terry’s friends. A couple of years into it my wife Sandy joined, as did Dan’s son Charlie. Several people have come and gone over time, but a core of about five or six have stuck together for the last 24 years.

We don’t play for money, which is a good thing. It’s a bragging rights league and, to be honest, I don’t have much to brag about. I’ve never finished higher than fourth place, but I have finished fourth probably eight or 10 times. Sandy has won the league twice already. She is a football fan but doesn’t necessarily follow the teams and players that closely. She enjoys watching the games. She is, however, really good with numbers and is able to work player stats to her favor.

I am not a numbers guy, and it shows. Last year, my team, the Masked Avengers, took a commanding lead early in the season and I held first place for about 12 weeks. Then the injury bug bit me. I fell to eighth place and barely made the playoffs. I did recover in time to finish fourth – again!

One of the things I’ve enjoyed about the league is the trash talking. There was a lot of it in the early years, but it’s waned a bit recently. Still, whenever Terry and I go head-to-head, the smack talk gets going. I call it Beak Week because my nickname for Terry in college was Beagle Beak (Snoopy) because of his rather large, protruding proboscis. I won’t tell you what he calls me because, well, it’s my column and I don’t have to!

Nearly every year I accuse him of fixing the league so he can win. I’m happy to report that my accusations are false. He has never won, but he did finish second twice and third twice.

This year we open the season against each other. Yahoo has me favored to win, which is a joke. I managed to draft two players who are suspended and one on injured reserve. I must now decide if I want to keep them on my bench and have them ready in a few weeks when they are available or dump them and pick up lesser players. We do have a transaction limit in the league, so I have to weigh my options carefully.

One of the things I’ve noticed with fantasy football over the decades is how much it’s changed and the distraction it’s become. Most leagues have money on the line and now the gambling industry is asserting a stranglehold on it.

I remember an issue several years ago when I was covering the Sugar Land Skeeters baseball team. They were in an independent league at the time and now they are the Space Cowboys, the Triple-A affiliate of the Houston Astros. I remember that the Skeeters were dominating the Atlantic League but then had a major late-season slump. I asked manager Gary Gaetti what caused the slump. He blamed it on the distraction of fantasy football.

One of the surreal things I really enjoyed during the years I was photographing Houston Texans games was being right there while my players were scoring. Sometimes I faced the dilemma of needing an opposing player to do well for my fantasy team while I quietly rooted against them on the field.

So, here we are again, starting another season. Just like baseball in the spring, hope springs eternal. The past is forgotten and hopes of a championship loom large. Yeah, it’s football season in Texas, the best season of all.

Comic con adventures and frustrations

 

I’ve been attending science fiction and comic conventions since the late 1980s.

I’ve lost count of the number of celebrities that I’ve interacted with over the years but it numbers well into the hundreds. I’ve also lost count of the number of times I’ve seen “Star Trek” actors George Takei and Marina Sirtis in person at various conventions.

Over the years I’ve developed a love-hate relationship with comic cons. The fan in me absolutely loves them. It’s literally a chance to mingle with the stars and hang out with thousands of like-minded, costumed geeks. What I absolutely hate is the cost and the commercialization of the conventions.

It used to be that you could go to a convention for about $10 to $15 for a day. You could attend panel discussions with actors and meet them at their autograph tables where they would sign things for free and pose for pictures. Not anymore. Now it’s all about the almighty dollar. Depending on the level of membership/access you want, it can cost hundreds of dollars to attend a weekend convention, and that’s just to get in the door.

All of the celebrities charge for autographs and photos. Most comic cons now make you purchase autograph and photo tickets ahead of time online, and they ain’t cheap!

I acquired a fairly significant autograph collection in the days before the celebrities started charging. The first and only time I’ve paid for an autograph came in the early 2000s when I spent $15 each for “Star Wars” actors Anthony Daniels (C-3PO) and Kenny Baker (R2-D2).

I still enjoy collecting autographs, but I’m not likely to pay for them. That’s a con game I don’t like to play. I love going to comic cons, mostly to take pictures and sit in on celebrity panels.

One of the most significant moments in my life happened at one of these conventions. It was at the first Star Wars Celebration, held in Denver in 1999. “The Phantom Menace” was about to open and they held a huge Star Wars event featuring many of the new cast members. We were waiting in line to see one of the actors (I forget who it was) when I asked Sandy to marry me.

Moving to the Houston area opened the door for many comic con adventures in the past 17 years. Most of those have been at Comicpalooza, though that show has been a dud for the last several years. Some of the best cons of late have been in San Antonio, and there is one coming up that really has me excited. Spacecon San Antonio will be held Oct. 24-26 at the Freeman Coliseum Expo Halls. Most of the cast of the reimagined “Battlestar Galactica” will be there, along with the likes of Elizabeth Olsen, Billy Dee Williams, Brie Larson, Hailee Steinfeld, Ian McDiarmid, Paul Bettany, Jonathan Frakes, Michael Ironside, and dozens more. And oh my, wouldn’t you know it, even George Takei will be there.

What really has me excited is the “Battlestar Galactica” cast, including Edward James Olmos, Mary McDonnell, Grace Park, Jamie Bamber, James Callis, and Tricia Helfer. Several years ago there was a mini Galactica con at Comicpalooza and I missed it due to a scheduling conflict. This is my chance to make up for it.

Spacecon San Antonio has been under other names in the past, and each one has been huge and chock full of A-list celebrities. Show CEO Bob Wills, owner of The PM Group marketing agency, has routinely pulled out the stops for big name entertainers.

San Antonio will also be the location of Big Texas Comicon, which will be held Oct. 17-19 at the Henry B. Gonzalez Convention Center. It will have “Happy Days” actors Henry Winkler, Don Most and Anson Williams, along with notables such as Jason Isaacs, Priscilla Presley, Tori Spelling, and Soleil Moon Frye.

Locally, the College Station Comic Con will be held Sept. 13-14 in Bryan at the Brazos County Expo Complex. Much smaller than its big-city counterparts, this year’s show features voice actors Leah Clark, Macy Anne Johnson, Aaron Campbell, Jack Broadbent and Molly Searcy. Most of them are well known for their voice acting in anime cartoons and video games.

Looking back over the years, the one celebrity that I interacted with the most was the late Peter Mayhew, who is best known for playing Chewbacca in “Star Wars.” He lived in Texas and regularly attended area conventions. He even used one of the photos I took of him for his Facebook profile picture.

One of my more memorable experiences came in 2023 at GalaxyCon Austin when Richard Dreyfuss flipped me off. He was joking around while I was taking his picture. I had just lowered my camera when up came his middle finger. I just missed getting what may have become my most viral photo ever!

Oh well, such is life. Who knows what opportunities await in San Antonio and beyond.

Declare war on divorce

 

Next to the death of a loved one, there is no greater emotional pain than that of betrayal.

Betrayal is at the heart of divorce. Most divorces have some form of betrayal at their core, whether it is as blatant as cheating or as subtle as selfishness.

Before I go on, allow me this disclaimer. Both my wife and I have been previously married. We both know the heartache and pain of divorce, so I know what I’m talking about. As of this writing, two relatives very close to us are experiencing divorce. One just completed a divorce, and the other is just starting one. Our hearts ache for them.

Over our 25 years together we’ve seen several friends and relatives marry and divorce. Throughout this time, I’ve concluded that one of the worst things to happen in American society is the no-fault divorce. When a marriage ends, there is fault. That fault may fall on one or both parties, but there is definitely a fault. A vow has been broken and at least one person in the marriage is to blame for that failure. That person should bear the consequences for their actions, or both proportionately if both are at fault.

A spouse who cheats, becomes violent, or in some way betrays their marriage should have to pay a price for that. In such cases, there should not be an equal division of property and assets as that rewards moral failure and punishes the victim.

I think it behooves the courts to recognize that when a marriage ends that a sacred, permanent and binding contract has been betrayed and broken. The violator should face significant consequences, because a crime as emotionally and mentally devastating as physical abuse has taken place.

Strengthening marriage laws adds accountability and commitment back into relationships and provides justice to the victimized spouse. We need more emphasis on marriage and family counseling. We need a societal shift in attitude to support and encourage marriages.

I say this with the caveat that cases of infidelity, abuse and neglect are inexcusable and should not be tolerated. Neither should alcoholism, compulsive gambling or other destructive addictions, although working to help the offender heal is preferable to kicking them while they’re down.

Infidelity can be overcome, but in most cases it’s justifiably a marriage killer. I know of marriages that have survived infidelity and become stronger as a result. I don’t, however, recommend that as a means of strengthening a marriage.

The key to preventing a divorce is to work wholeheartedly on your marriage and your relationship with your spouse. Here are some tips to help divorce-proof your marriage:

Communicate! Talk to each other and share your thoughts and feelings.

Remind yourself every day of your wedding vow, especially the parts about “for better or worse” and “’til death do us part.”

Say “I love you” daily and more often when you can.

Make quality and quantity time for each other.

Flirt with each other.

Laugh together.

Be generous with praise and stingy with complaints.

Never criticize your spouse in public.

Be your spouse’s biggest cheerleader.

Dream and make plans together. It’s hard to drift apart when you’re working on the same goals.

Be spontaneous and have fun.

Share responsibilities.

Resolve disagreements peacefully; don’t try to win every argument.

Never hide anything or keep secrets. Be completely open and honest with each other.

Don’t go to bed angry. Always plan to kiss each other good night.

Prioritize your spouse and seek to meet their needs ahead of your own.

Don’t keep up with the Joneses. Live within your means and avoid debt.

Own your mistakes and apologize sincerely.

Never let anyone, including children and in-laws, come between you.

Most importantly, pray for and with each other.

There are a lot more tips I could share, but I think you get the gist of what I’m saying. The thing is, we need to go to battle for our marriages and declare a war on divorce.

Finally, for those who are thinking about getting married, be fully committed. Don’t go into it with the mindset of giving it a try to see how it works. In the words of Yoda, that great theologian from a galaxy far, far away, “Do or do not. There is no try.”

I've officially turned old

 There is a time in every guy’s life where he struggles to know when he has transitioned from boy into manhood.

There is no formal rite of passage. No one hands you a man card and welcomes you to the brotherhood. There are arbitrary dates assigning adulthood, but it’s not the same as becoming a man. That magic moment is different for each person.

In America, you become a provisional adult at 18 and a full adult at 21. But what defines becoming a man? Does it happen at a certain age? Is it when you leave home, get married, lose your virginity, grow facial hair, start your first real job, graduate from high school or college – when?

After a while you realize that you have become a man. (I assume women have similar struggles, but, as a guy, I can’t relate to that.) Part of that struggle is that even though you have physically become a grown man, mentally and emotionally you still have the same insecurities as a boy and still want affirmation in your decisions and permission to act. I think true, authentic manhood happens after you overcome those insecurities and act on your own.

For me, I look at 1987 as the year I truly became a man. I turned 21 the year before, but in the spring and summer of ’87 I graduated from college, moved away from home, got married (and as a result lost my virginity), and started my first real full-time job. That was a lot of milestones that all hit within a three-month period, and it was overwhelming.

Fast-forward to last Wednesday, and I embraced a new struggle of manhood. Aug. 6 was my 60th birthday. I’m now coming to terms with the idea of becoming old or elderly. Unlike the longing to become a man, guys my age try to stave off senior citizenship. No one wants to be old, but it sure beats the alternative.

Sandy and I took the day off to celebrate my birthday in New Braunfels at Schlitterbahn. I certainly didn’t feel old as we rode the slides and rides at the gigantic waterpark. I felt invigorated and youthful. As we traipsed merrily around the grounds I couldn’t help but notice all the pretty girls in their tiny swimsuits. That’s what made me feel old. I had to accept the fact that I was old enough to be their father, or in some cases their grandfather.

It only took one look at (or from) my wife to bring me back to my senses. She is eight years younger than I am, so no matter how old I get, I always have the advantage of having a pretty, young trophy wife by my side.

My kids, however, have been relentless with the old man jokes throughout my 50s. Luke, my middle son, texted me Wednesday night to wish me a happy birthday. He called me Gramps. Gramps!? “Yeah, you’re old now,” he said. I have four children, and they range in age from old maid to 22. And yes, I reserve the right to call my daughter an old maid with her 33rd birthday quickly approaching and her showing no interest in getting married and starting a family.

With the clock ticking on my sixth decade, I have been contemplating what it means to be old, or if I should consider myself old. I know most people aren’t considered elderly or a senior citizen until they turn 65 or 70. At the same time, the American Association of Retired Persons (AARP) grants you membership at 50.

At the time I was contemplating manhood, I felt 50 was old – really old. It wasn’t so bad when I turned 50. It was when I turned 40 that I had a midlife crisis. I felt I was reaching old age and hadn’t accomplished anything. At 60, I still haven’t accomplished anything, but I sure have done a lot. Given the longevity in my family tree (my dad is going strong at 80 and my mom’s mother lived to 96) I know I have plenty of time ahead of me barring the unforeseen.

Still, that’s no excuse to waste time. At my age your dreams come into sharper focus and your goals become more immediate. Time is on no one’s side, especially the older you become. There comes an urgency to see, do, have and experience things in life while you still can. Just because you may live a long time it doesn’t mean that your body or your mind will cooperate with you to the end. I wish I had understood these things when I was younger.

They say you’re only as old as you feel and that age is just a number. Let me tell you, the bigger those numbers become the heavier they get. Still, I’m not going to let my age weigh me down. I have books to write, a farm to run and a job to do. As long as I’m enjoying this life that God has given me, I will press on like there’s no tomorrow. And as I contemplate the remainder of my manhood, I realize that I still have time to decide what I want to be when I grow up.

Male bonding on church men's retreat

 When I attended the A&M Church of Christ’s annual men’s retreat to New Mexico last year, I was new to the church and didn’t know a single person on the trip other than my son.

By the time we returned at the end of the week, I had more than a dozen new friends and several memorable experiences under my belt. I couldn’t wait to go again.

We just got back two weeks ago from our trip to Angel Fire, New Mexico, this time with about 24 guys, only about half of whom I knew. I thoroughly enjoyed forging new friendships and deepening older ones through our many adventures.

The purpose of the trip is to create opportunities for male bonding, fellowship, and spiritual growth. In our defense, our wives did knowingly let us go unsupervised into the wilderness 775 miles from home. Man, that was fun!

As we prepared, we talked about all the things we could do on the trip. There would be plenty of opportunities to go hiking, mountain climbing, whitewater rafting, fishing, golfing, shopping, touring, birding, and taking a train ride. Most of the guys talked about extending the trip another two days to tour Carlsbad Caverns and hike up Guadalupe Peak, the tallest mountain in Texas.

We sleepily but enthusiastically gathered at oh dark thirty on a Saturday morning and began the 14-hour trek to Angel Fire. We made our traditional lunch stop at JT’s Drive-In in Childress for burgers, fries and drinks. The next morning, we attended services at Moreno Valley Church of Christ in Eagle Nest, New Mexico, where our group nearly doubled the attendance. There, the pastor announced that one of the members needed help Monday morning pouring concrete in his garage.

Most of our group was committed to going whitewater rafting on the Rio Grande on Monday, but a handful of us volunteered to help with the project. At the end of the day everyone reconvened at our cabin. We were all tired but we felt good. On Tuesday we split up in many different directions. Several climbed, or attempted to climb, Wheeler Peak, the tallest mountain in New Mexico.  

I went with a small group that was supposed to go birding. Mark, our driver, is a biology professor at Blinn College and wanted to make a stop at the home of Aldo Leopold, the noted author and conservationist. It was a Mecca of sorts for Mark and an educational experience for the rest of us. We never did go birding after that detour. On our way back to the cabin we stopped for lunch at Taos Pizza Out Back, which serves very large portions of really good pizza.

The next morning a group of us went on a guided lake fishing expedition. We were divided into two boats. I caught the first two trout on the boat I was on but was quickly lapped by the other three guys. I ended up catching three and our boat hauled in 16 of the 20 fish our group caught. Dinner that night was delicious!

Back ashore while the guide cleaned our fish, our attention was turned to the black bear napping up a tree across the street. It must be a guy thing to want to stare danger in the face – or at least watch it slumber about 50 yards away. Later that afternoon Monty and I visited the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Red River. They have a half-scale replica of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial wall and a small museum with some interesting artifacts.

Thursday was my favorite day of the trip. Mark, Monty and I rode the Cumbres and Toltec Scenic Railroad from Antonito, Colorado, to Chama, New Mexico. Kevin and his son Matthew, who have ridden the train several times, chased the train in the car and met us for lunch. The narrow-gauge steam engine train averaged about 10 mph and went through some amazing countryside that offered spectacular mountain views.

On Friday, I joined Monty and John on a trip to Cimarron, where we toured museums at Philmont Scout Ranch. It was my first visit to the famed Boy Scout camp despite being an Eagle Scout and having a long Scouting career. It made us very nostalgic for our Scouting days although the three of us lamented what the Boy Scouts have become in recent years.

That evening was spent packing for the trip home. We were all so exhausted that everyone bailed on the idea of going to Carlsbad Caverns and Guadalupe Peak. Our masculinity succumbed to the realities of age.

Every evening on the retreat we gathered around a campfire and had a time of devotion. We usually discussed some very weighty and sensitive topics. It’s a time of authenticity and understanding where real bonding takes place.

Saturday brought the 14-hour return trip. I made Mark stop in Amarillo, where I lived for three years long ago, and introduced him and Silas to the Donut Stop. While they may disagree, I believe Donut Stop makes the best donuts in the world, especially the cherry glazed donuts!

So that was our adventure this year – or at least the story we’re telling our wives. I don’t know what next year’s retreat will bring but I’m anxiously anticipating it.

Making movies and memories

 

“They're gonna put me in the movies
They're gonna make a big star out of me
We’ll make the film about a man that’s sad and lonely
And all I gotta do is act naturally” – Buck Owens, “Act Naturally”

I forgot my hat! After all the stress and fuss, I forgot what was arguably one of the most important parts of my attire north of my drop-front breeches. Going back to get it will make me late – very late!

More about that in a minute. You see, July has been a big month for movies, at least for me. And not just movies in the theater. As a Texas Revolution reenactor, I have recently been cast as an extra in two short films. Trailers for both came out this month – one of which I really needed my hat for.

In terms of Hollywood blockbusters, I was thrilled to see the trailer for “Project Hail Mary,” which hits theaters next year. I’ve listened to the book by Andy Weir three times already and cannot wait for this movie!

In the theaters now are two movies I’ve been anxious to see – “Superman” and “The Fantastic Four: First Steps.” I’m also interested in “Jurassic World: Rebirth,” but will probably wait until it streams on TV before I watch it.

I took Sandy to see “Superman” last Sunday and we were largely disappointed in it. Oh, it had its moments, but for the most part it relied too much on CGI effects, foul language, and a convoluted plot. I just hope “The Fantastic Four” lives up to the potential shown in the trailers.

Speaking of trailers, that brings me back to my hat. You see, I have a felt top hat that I use for reenactments of the Texas Revolution. It has been a centerpiece of my reenactment attire for several years now. I wore it in February when I spent a Saturday as an extra in a short film about the Goliad Massacre called “Visions of March.” It’s a film by Eric Rodriguez and is currently being shown at film festivals. It should start streaming online sometime in the coming months.

I loaned my top hat to a friend to use during Vacation Bible School at church. I got it back from him the day before I was scheduled to go to Gonzales to be an extra in the short film “Texas Legacy in Lights.” It’s a 24-minute film about the 1835 Come and Take It battle between residents of Gonzales and Mexican troops who have been ordered to take back a small cannon the government had given the townsfolk for protection from the Indians.

The film will be projected on the side of the Gonzales Memorial Museum using state-of-the-art 3D projection mapping technology. Its $370,720 budget was funded by the Gonzales Economic Development Corporation and Gonzales Main Street and it was filmed by Austin Film Crew founder and director John Franklin Rinehart.

As part of the casting process, I had to send in photos of me in various reenactment outfits and they were very specific about which one they wanted me to wear. I had a two-hour drive to Gonzales on a Thursday morning in June. I was halfway there when I realized that I had left my top hat at home. As that was an essential part of my outfit, I had to have it. I called my wife in a panic and asked if she could bring it to me. We would meet halfway in between.

Cell coverage was spotty where I was, so communication was difficult. I called Sandy again when I got to the place where I thought we would meet. That’s when I discovered she wasn’t home when I called. She had to run back to the house, get my hat, and was ready to head my way. I kept driving east and we eventually met in Caldwell. At this point I was due to arrive in 30 minutes with a 90-minute drive ahead of me.

I raced to Gonzales, checked into my hotel room, and then sped to the filming location west of town. When I arrived, I discovered why it is said that making a movie is a lot of hurry up and wait. Even though I was over an hour late, I still had plenty of time before they needed me. I put on my gear, placed my hat on my head, and met with Kerry Hellums for approval of my outfit.

Hellums looked me over and said it was OK except for my hat.

“It’s too formal,” he said.

He had me go to wardrobe to get one of theirs. I don’t know what expression my face may have betrayed at that moment but I quietly obliged. For two days those of us serving as extras filmed scenes that will last only seconds on the wall of the museum. I did get to spend time with friends, including Kyle Jones of College Station who is the secretary of the William J. Bryan Chapter of the Sons of the Republic of Texas.

“Texas Legacy in Lights” will premier Oct. 2 in Gonzales to help kick off the annual Come and Take It Celebration. Kyle and I invite you to join us there. I’ll be easy to spot. Just look for the guy with the brown felt top hat!

Use term limits for real political change

 

Politicians are like diapers, they both need to be changed often and for the same reason!

That’s an old joke but fitting.

I’ve always been a strong proponent of term limits, especially for state and federal offices. Local offices, not so much. The problem with incumbency is it becomes entrenched and corrupt. The longer it goes the worse it gets. The ability to wield wealth and power overwhelms those whose purpose is to serve. Having term limits essentially eliminates career politicians, or at least forces them to move to different offices assuming that’s what the electorate wants them to do.

Just look at Congress where “leaders” have been holding office 30 or 40 years or more. If you study their actions closely, you will see they are more interested in backing their party line and lining their pockets than they are serving the people they supposedly represent. Even decent, well-intentioned people succumb to the trappings of office.

As an example, let’s look at Texas Gov. Greg Abbott. In 2023 he withheld funding for teacher raises unless the Legislature passed a school voucher bill. It didn’t happen, even after four special sessions dedicated to just that one topic. Last year Abbott aggressively campaigned against Republican incumbents who opposed vouchers and won most of those elections. This year, he got vouchers passed and approved teacher raises.

Some might call that good politics and strong leadership. I don’t. It’s an abuse of power to force a personal agenda. In that regard, he’s not listening to the people. He’s serving his own purpose. All that being said, I do like Abbott and I think he has been a good, strong governor for the state. If there were term limits in place, however, he never would have been in a position to play politics with the livelihoods of educators.

On the national level, term limits would have long ago pushed people out of office such as Senators Chuck Grassley, Ed Markey, Ron Wyden, Chuck Schumer, Dick Durbin, and Mitch McConnell and Representatives Hal Rogers, Chris Smith, Steny Hoyer and Marcy Kaptur. All of them have more than 40 years in Washington and are more at home in the swamp than an alligator.

I’ve lived in Texas for 20 years. John Cornyn had been in the Senate three years prior to my arrival. Don’t you think that’s long enough?

Sen. Ted Cruz supported term limits. He introduced an amendment to the U.S. Constitution that would limit members of the Senate to two six-year terms and members of the House to three two-year terms.

On his campaign page he says, “Term limits are critical to fixing what’s wrong with Washington, D.C. The Founding Fathers envisioned a government of citizen legislators who would serve for a few years and return home, not a government run by a small group of special interests and lifelong, permanently entrenched politicians who prey upon the brokenness of Washington to govern in a manner that is totally unaccountable to the American people. Term limits bring about long-overdue accountability. I urge my colleagues to advance this amendment to the states so that it may be quickly ratified and become a constitutional amendment.”

Yet he is in his third six-year term.

Another benefit to term limits is it reduces the power of lobbyists and political action committees. I’ve read that 97% of corporate PAC money goes to the incumbents. Term limits will break the hold PACs have on members of Congress and reduce the amount of money funneled to incumbents.

I understand the argument that terms can be limited by voters at the ballot box. That doesn’t happen very often when new challengers are forced to go up against well-funded and entrenched incumbents with huge war chests.

I mentioned earlier that I don’t strongly favor term limits at the local level. Let me clarify that. I don’t think you should limit terms for offices that require special training or degrees such as law enforcement, district attorneys, coroners, etc. It also doesn’t make sense to limit terms in small communities where it is difficult to find qualified and willing candidates.

One other related thing to term limits is redistricting. Incumbents draw political lines to favor themselves and their party. Some lines are drawn for racial reasons. I think the one and only consideration for political districts should be population. Forget political parties, race, and any other dividing factor.

Create districts that keep communities together. Don’t make districts that look like a Rorschach test or a spilled plate of spaghetti. Gerrymandered districts divide the attention of the representative and often alienate a large portion of the population. That is not how a representative government is supposed to work.

So, let’s put on our term-limit diapers and throw the bums out.

Countdown is on to 250

 

Independence Day has come and gone and now the one-year countdown is on to America’s 250th birthday.

Whether you call it the semiquincentennial, bisesquicentennial, sestercentennial or the quarter millennium, July 4, 2026, will be the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. Trust me, it will be a big deal. I was just shy of my 10th birthday when we celebrated the bicentennial in 1976. I remember there being a lot of special celebrations and events taking place.

We are already well into the 250th year since the start of the American Revolution. A lot of people mistakenly think the war began with the signing of the Declaration in 1776, but we were a year into the war by then. The anniversaries of the midnight rides of Paul Revere, William Dawes and Samuel Prescott (April 18, 1775), the battles of Lexington and Concord (April 19, 1775), the start of the Siege of Boston (April 19, 1775) and the Battle of Bunker Hill (June 17, 1775) have already taken place. June 14 was the 250th birthday of the U.S. Army, making it older than the country itself!

Growing up in Colorado, we had the dual celebration of the state’s centennial celebration in 1976. Colorado is nicknamed the Centennial State because it was admitted to the Union on Aug. 1, 1876. All the fervor, however, centered around the bicentennial celebration.

That year at Niwot Elementary School we spent a lot of time studying the Revolutionary War. I remember reading the book “Spies on the Devil’s Belt” by Betsy Haynes and dreaming of being a kid spying on the British for the Continental Army. A lot of our comic books back then had colorful advertisements for plastic toy Revolutionary War soldiers. I really wanted some but don’t recall if I ever got them.

On July 4 of that year I baked a birthday cake for America. We put 200 candles on it. My dad lit it with a blowtorch, and we very quickly sang Happy Birthday to America and then blew out what little remained of the candles. The cake itself wound up under a sheet of wax.

Another cool thing was collecting bicentennial quarters. It was exciting to find one at first, but then it became old hat. Now, 50 years later, they are much harder to come by and when I find one, I get that rush of childhood excitement again. From what I understand, special semiquincentennial coins are to be minted next year. It will also be the last year for pennies, so coin collecting could become interesting.

I vaguely recall one of the things we did in school was to attempt to trace our ancestry to see if we had any Revolutionary War era ancestors. I didn’t get much farther than my grandparents before losing the line. Back then we didn’t have the benefit of the internet. I really didn’t know or care how far back I could trace my ancestry. Now it’s almost an obsession.

Thanks to various sites on the internet, I can trace many relatives on my father’s side back to colonial days in America. I know the first Southern arrived here in 1620 on a ship named George. I don’t know if I’m directly related or not. I do know that I have about three or four relatives who were in the Revolutionary War. I qualified to join the Sons of the American Revolution through my fifth-great-grandfather, William Hopkins. He was a private in the Orange County, New York, regiment under Goose VanSchaick.

Ironically, his father, Francis Whaley Hopkins, was known as The Tory Bandit. His occupation is listed as horse thief, counterfeiter, and counter-revolutionary organizer. He was hung for stealing a horse in 1779.

Interestingly enough, William Hopkins’ son, Henry Harrison Hopkins, a War of 1812 veteran, died in March of 1844 “in a camp on Cut Hand Creek in Red River Texas.” His will was probated in the Republic of Texas, qualifying me for membership in the Sons of the Republic of Texas.

Getting back to the 250th anniversary, I can only hope that schools make as big a deal about it as mine did for the bicentennial. It’s a great opportunity to get kids excited about American history. In the grand scheme of things, America has a short history, but it’s ours and I’m proud of it. Now that I know my family played a part, I plan to do more research into our role in history as we make the year-long countdown to 250.

Scot Harvath returns in Edge of Honor thriller

 July is just around the corner and with it just like clockwork is the next installment in Brad Thor’s Scot Harvath book series.

“Edge of Honor” is Thor’s 25th book and 24th in the series. Clearly, Thor owns July. Having a new Harvath thriller each July has become a patriotic tradition up there with fireworks, hot dogs and apple pie.

“I’d be thrilled to be the book that people can count on every year for Fourth of July,” Thor said.

“Edge of Honor” opens with the American super spy being retired and enjoying a six-month honeymoon with Solvi, the Scandinavian beauty who is a deputy director with the Norwegian Intelligence Service. As Harvath prepares to introduce his new bride to her first Fourth of July celebration at the nation’s capital, the two are explosively drawn back into the game.

This time, the enemy isn’t foreign, it’s domestic. A change in administration and shifting politics undermines the safety and security Harvath has sacrificed so much for, and this new battle threatens everything he holds dear.

“Edge of Honor” is a change of pace from Harvath’s history of hunting down bad actors from Russia and the Middle East. Although exciting and suspenseful in its own right, “Edge of Honor” dials down the torture and brutality that were hallmarks of earlier Harvath adventures. And that’s fine. Thor’s narrative style and use of suspense and speculation keep the pages turning.

I started listening to the audio versions of Thor’s first 15 books in 2016. I binged listened for months, letting the stories blend from one book to the next. By the time I was caught up I was hooked and hungry for the next adventure.

I began reviewing Thor’s books in 2022 with “Rising Tiger.” None of his books have ever disappointed me. Even though I struggle to find time to physically read a book, I somehow manage with each of his. I got to meet Thor in 2017 at a book signing at Murder by the Book in Houston. Since then, we’ve had sporadic communication on Facebook. On Thursday I did a phone interview with him and got him to share some of his secrets.

One thing I’ve always wanted to know what how he manages to predict the future so well. Things he writes a year in advance are current events when his books arrive. For example, in “Edge of Honor” it is speculated that the Iranians are behind the attacks that bring Harvath and Solvi back into action. As I’m reading this, the United States is dropping bombs on Iran.

“I’ve always been a voracious consumer of news, and I think that’s where it comes from,” he said. “I think it’s that ability to look at the news and say, ‘Okay, what’s the rest of the story? Where might this lead?’”

Thor also shared with me that while he was writing about Harvath providing protection for a friend who lost his security detail in the change of administration, it happened in real life.

“While I was writing the book, we found out that a couple of former Trump administration people had lost security details, like Mike Pompeo, John Bolton. But what was funny is I had already been writing about this when it actually happened,” he said.

For those of us who can’t wait for July and the arrival of a new Harvath adventure, Thor shared that a deal years in the making has finally been signed and Harvath will become a TV hero with a streaming series produced by Sony Pictures Television. An eight-episode first season is being developed based on his first book, “Lions of Lucerne.”

“I don’t know when they would bring it to market, but hopefully you’ll get the enjoyment of having read the books and then seeing how they get adapted for television. Because, you know, they have to change stuff in Hollywood, but I’m involved in the changes … and I was totally down with it. You’re still gonna get Scot Harvath,” he said.

Let The Lone Ranger ride again

 It’s time for The Lone Ranger to ride again.

It’s also time the character got the treatment it deserves. Twelve years ago, Disney made a thrilling, big budget Lone Ranger movie. Although it is generally thought of as a flop, it did top $250 million at the box office. It made money even though it fell far short of projections.

The movie was made by the “Pirates of the Caribbean” team of Jerry Bruckheimer, Gore Verbinski and Johnny Depp, who starred as Tonto. It starred Armie Hammer at the masked man.

The movie itself was an action thriller and very entertaining. Unfortunately, it alienated millions of Lone Ranger fans by making The Lone Ranger an affable idiot and injecting mystical elements and cannibalism. It also didn’t help that Depp’s Tonto wore makeup and had a dead crow on his head.

When you look at the history of The Lone Ranger, you can see a progression of degradation of the character in recent outings. The Lone Ranger began in 1933 in the theater of the mind as a radio program for WXYZ radio in Detroit. (Before I go further, let me nip the Bass Reeves theory in the bud right here. I has been proven beyond all shadow of a doubt that The Lone Ranger was not inspired by or connected in any way to the real-life lawman Bass Reeves.)

While The Lone Ranger was dominating the radio airwaves, two movie serials were made. That was followed in 1949 with the wildly popular TV show that starred Clayton Moore and Jay Silverheels. Moore is best known for his portrayal of the masked man, a role he embraced the rest of his life. He starred in four of the five seasons of the show (back when a season was a full year). Moore was replaced in 1952 by John Hart during a contract dispute.

After Moore returned to the role, ownership of the character traded hands from creator George W. Trendle to Jack Wrather. Wrather had the last season of the show filmed in color and, when the show ended, had two major motion pictures made: “The Lone Ranger” in 1956 and “The Lone Ranger and the Lost City of Gold” in 1958.

That was the peak of Lone Ranger mania. The television show and movies went into syndication and Moore toured the country in costume as The Lone Ranger. That is, until 1979 when Wrather Corp. issued a cease-and-desist order that was held up after a lengthy court battle. Wrather was getting ready to make a new Lone Ranger movie with a new actor and didn’t want any confusion with the aging Moore and stripped him of his mask. That was a monumental mistake.

The action set off a firestorm of sympathy for Moore and negative publicity for the film. That was exacerbated by the uncooperative antics of Klinton Spilsbury, who was set to star as the hero in “The Legend of The Lone Ranger.” The movie was dead on arrival when it was released in 1981. In addition to all the negative publicity, it marked the first time we saw the masked man unmasked. That ruined a lot of the mystique that made The Lone Ranger appealing.

After the movie flopped and Spilsbury went into hiding, the courts returned the mask to Moore and he continued to make appearances until his death in 1999.

The Lone Ranger made a resurgence in the early 2000s. The WB network made a pilot for what was supposed to be a new Lone Ranger show. It was so horribly done that it aired once as a movie of the week and has never been broadcast again. There was also a highly acclaimed comic book by Dynamite and several new toys and keepsakes produced.

It was at this time that I started the Lone Ranger Fan Club after taking over a quarterly newsletter called The Silver Bullet. I passed on ownership of the club and the newsletter just before the Disney movie came out in 2013. I’m happy to say that both are still going and growing under new ownership.

I think enough time has passed since the Lone Ranger’s last ride and it’s time to saddle up again. When you look at the popularity of superhero movies in the theaters and westerns on TV, the time is ripe for the superhero cowboy. I think Disney could do it justice in the same way it has handled its Marvel and Star Wars franchises with short seasons of hour-long episodes.

The one thing that needs to happen is for The Lone Ranger to be filmed in Texas. After all, he is a former Texas Ranger. And not one single frame of film or decibel of radio broadcast has ever originated in Texas. That needs to change. And if Disney or any other movie studio takes my advice, they need to do to “The Lone Ranger” what Paramount did with “Star Trek: The Motion Picture.” It needs to ditch it and reboot like Trek did with “Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan.”

Hi-yo Silver, away!

Focusing on fatherhood

 There is probably no other cultural institution under greater attack than that of fatherhood.

Sunday is Father’s Day. Every year my wife and kids do an admirable job of celebrating Father’s Day with me. I really appreciate their efforts. What I enjoy the most, however, is just spending time with them, or at least hearing from the kids now that they have all left the nest. Of course, I enjoy that every opportunity I get, not just on Father’s Day.

I realize that I am very fortunate to have a solid relationship with my children, my father and my father-in-law. I also know how increasingly rare that is. There are innumerable reports of the increase in fatherlessness in America. Far too many children are being raised in households without their father present, most by single mothers.

The lack of fathers in the home is causing generational harm with boys growing into manhood without any concept of what it means to not only be a man but to be a father. With all due respect to the moms, you can’t pass down to your children something you don’t have yourself. Our prisons and jails are populated with people who, for the most part, did not grow up with their father in the home.

It’s not just the boys who are impacted. Girls need their fathers as much as the boys do. All children should grow up with their mother and father together in the home. That is the ideal standard ordained by God and proven over time. Unfortunately, we’ve gotten away from that.

In my journey as a man and a father, I’ve seen how modern society has come to devalue manhood and especially fatherhood. Television sitcom dads have been relegated to the role of affable morons, if they’re in the picture at all. The push has been to idolize the strong mom. Empowering women has come at the price of emasculating men.

Rather than dwelling on that, I want to talk about the importance of fathers. Fathers are most notably the pillar of strength and security in a home. They are also loving, caring and nurturing. They are a stabilizing force for the family.

Fathers do many things from washing dishes to changing diapers. They help with homework and play catch. They give instruction and direction. Fathers are role models and disciplinarians. Fathers are coaches, hunters, fishermen, campers, drivers, tea drinkers, makeup models, dancers, wrestlers, game players, referees, dinner plate cleaners, and so much more.

The most important thing a father can do is to love his wife, the mother of his children. That is foundational for all family relationships. At the center of it all should be God. Fathers are the spiritual leaders of the home. A father should pray for and with his children and his wife. As the saying goes, “the family that prays together stays together.”

Fatherhood is not easy. You will be tested, and you will question every action you take or fail to take. That’s just human nature. We all do it. For me, I had the challenge of raising my children while living in poverty and suffering from depression. I am where I am today by the grace of God and the love of a strong, God-fearing woman.

Our children are good, hardworking adults. If I may take a proud dad moment here, Luke, our middle son, just got engaged to his girlfriend last weekend. These are the kind of moments that you live for as a parent. We are so proud of him and happy for them both. I can only hope that the example I set for him will carry him into his marriage and hopefully onto fatherhood someday.

Sandy and I each have great fathers who set the bar high for us. I think it’s safe to say that one of their greatest achievements is the legacy of love and commitment that is now being carried by their grandchildren.

The love and stability of a healthy, nuclear family produces confident, intelligent children who are strong leaders, dependable workers, and caring individuals. This is why we should honor and respect the men who embrace their roles as husbands and fathers. Too many fathers avoid the responsibility or are denied the opportunity to become a great dad.

Instead of attacking fatherhood, we should be taking up arms in defense of it.

And men, it’s up to you to prove yourself worthy of being a father. After all, any man can become a father. It takes someone special to be a dad.

Proudly flying Old Glory on Flag Day

 

Sept. 11, 2001, was a horrible day in American history. The days the followed, however, were glorious.

By glorious, I mean that the groundswell of patriotism and the sense of unity we felt in the wake of the terrorist attacks was incredible. People put aside their differences and came together in ways that the day before would have been unimaginable.

American flags could be seen waving everywhere and they were sold out at stores for weeks. Nearly a year after the attacks, faded and tattered flags still waved from porches and flagpoles where they had been raised and remained since 9/11.

Unfortunately, it did not take long for patriotism to wane. Old Glory today has never been more disrespected. That lack of respect can be traced to 2016 when San Francisco 49ers quarterback Colin Kaepernick began taking a knee during the playing of The Star-Spangled Banner, our national anthem.

I’ll give the devil his due, Kaepernick drew attention to worthy causes. It’s the way he did it that has created a lasting rift in this country. Even now, nine years later, we are seeing disrespect for the flag and our national anthem, largely from athletes in pro ranks to high schools. These abominable ingrates disgust me. Seeing them hang their heads and refuse to place their hands over their hearts or even look at the flag is appalling. They are unworthy of the privileges they’ve been afforded by those who sacrificed everything fighting under that banner.

Next Saturday, June 14, is Flag Day. I think it’s a great time to learn the importance of the American flag, what it stands for, and how to properly respect it.

Flag Day was first proposed in 1861 in the early days of the Civil War. President Woodrow Wilson issued a proclamation declaring Flag Day on June 14 in 1916. An act of Congress sealed the deal in 1949. Flag Day commemorates the adoption of the U.S. flag on June 14, 1777, by the Second Continental Congress.

It was the waving of the flag over Fort McHenry after heavy bombardment by the British in 1814 that inspired Francis Scott Key to pen The Star-Spangled Banner. The flag has been a rallying standard for our military throughout the nation’s history. No other flag in the world stands above it. It was the first flag planted on the moon, something we’ve done six times.

Hundreds of thousands of men and women have died for the flag and everything it stands for.

The United States Code includes a section regarding flag etiquette. Rather than recite the whole thing, here are some highlights:

The flag should never be dipped to any person or thing, unless it is the ensign responding to a salute from a ship of a foreign nation. 

The flag should never be displayed with the union (the starred blue canton) down, except as a signal of dire distress in instances of extreme danger to life or property.

The flag should never be drawn back or bunched up in any way.

The flag should not be used as part of a costume or athletic uniform, except that a flag patch may be used on the uniform of military personnel, firefighters, police officers, and members of patriotic organizations.

The flag should never be stepped on.

When the flag is lowered, no part of it should touch the ground or any other object; it should be received by waiting hands and arms.

No other flag should be placed above it. The flag of the United States is always the first flag raised and the last to be lowered.

When on display, the flag is accorded the place of honor, always positioned to its own right. Place it to the right of the speaker or staging area or sanctuary. Other flags should be to the left.

When displaying the flag against a wall, vertically or horizontally, the flag's union (stars) should be at the top, to the flag's own right, and to the observer's left.

To salute, all persons come to attention. Those in uniform give the appropriate formal salute. Members of the armed forces and veterans who are present but not in uniform may render the military salute. Citizens not in uniform salute by placing their right hand over the heart and men with head cover should remove it and hold it to left shoulder, hand over the heart.

Let’s take this time on Flag Day to reflect on what it truly means to be an American, to stand in unity, and to give our flag its due respect. And let’s be the kind of people that we were on Sept. 12, 2001.

You'll call it a procedure, but it's a surgery

 

A few weeks ago as I was straining my brain to come up with a schedule of topics for my column, I noted that I had a surgery scheduled for May 22, so I wrote the word “surgery” as my topic for today.

I don’t know what I was thinking, other than I was pretty desperate to come up with something meaningful to write about. At the time, it didn’t occur to me that writing about my surgery would be a little too personal and of no concern to anyone outside of immediate family and a close circle of friends.

I’m reminded of the scene in the movie “Apollo 13” where astronaut Jim Lovell (played by Tom Hanks), instigates a medical mutiny by ripping off his biomed sensors.

“I am sick and tired of the entire Western world knowing how my kidneys are functioning,” he growls.

When NASA acknowledges that without reprimanding him, the other two astronauts rip off their sensors.

Some things are just meant to be kept private. That’s why doctor-patient confidentiality is so very important. I’m also aware that as people grow older, they tend to be more open about things generally considered TMI (too much information).

I’m also reminded of a scene in “City Slickers” where Billy Crystal’s character gives a deadpan rant about aging to a classroom of elementary school students. In it he says, “In your 50s you’ll have a minor surgery – you’ll call it a ‘procedure’ – but it’s a surgery.”

I’m at that stage of life where I’ve gone through a few “procedures.” Some are more invasive than others. Actually, it’s hard to say what is more invasive – the ones where they cut you open or the ones where they insert medical instruments the wrong way through your digestive orifices?

During my pre-op interviews, the doctors try to get a list of all the other surgeries that I’ve had. Each time the list gets longer. They want to know about metal objects in my body. That list keeps growing as well. They also want to know how I react to anesthesia. I react just fine, thank you. I get to enjoy a really good nap while they do the hard work.

During one of my recent “procedures,” I asked the nurse if they were about to start.

“It’s over. You’re in recovery now,” she said.

You’ve gotta love being able to sleep through something that would otherwise be very painful and discomforting.

Of all the times I’ve been put under for a medical procedure, there is only one time they had difficulty waking me up. The doctors didn’t know it at the time, but it had nothing to do with the anesthesia. It was more than 20 years ago, and I was physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted going into the surgery.

Whenever they tried to revive me afterward, I simply fell back asleep. It wasn’t the drugs conking me out. I was that tired. After several hours in recovery, I finally got irritated enough at having my sleep disturbed that I forced myself to keep my eyes open until they discharged me. I’m pretty sure I dozed on the way home. Sleep never felt so good.

As I write this, there is an incision across the front of my neck covered by some annoying bandages. The procedure I had is called a parathyroidectomy. I had a large, benign tumor on one of my parathyroids that was messing up my calcium levels, among other things. It was discovered as a result of my previous procedure to surgically remove three very large kidney stones.

Until all of this came up, I had never heard of a parathyroid or had any clue what they do. Apparently, they regulate hormones and things like your calcium levels. I’m told that it will take a while for the remaining parathyroids to take over the workload from the one that was removed, so it may be a few weeks before I notice any changes.

In the meantime, I’ve asked my wife to watch for any changes in me. I guess if I start growing boobs, getting hot flashes and walking with a wiggle in my hips that the hormonal recovery isn’t going well. Actually, the changes should be more subtle, such as not having to rush to the bathroom as often, having fewer body aches, and other things that impact the way I feel.

I just wish it would improve my memory and spur my creative juices. As I look at my schedule of column topics, I see that next week is still slated as “to be determined.”

Far-flung family

 

When Colton graduated from Texas A&M on May 8, we had some family visit us for the occasion.

It was wonderful to have family members with us that we don’t get to see very often. Heather came for her brother’s graduation. She just moved back to Colorado after living for two years in Washington State. It has been two years since we last saw her in person. Luke came up from Rosenberg for the weekend. Our oldest son, Wesley, lives in Florida and was unable to attend. My brother, Chip, came to visit from Colorado. I get to see him once or twice a year on average.

It became clear to me over that weekend that it is a Southern family tradition to move far away from your family of origin when you leave the nest. My children are doing it. I did it. My parents did it. And as I look up the family tree, I see generations of westward mobility, often leaving family behind.

It’s not that we don’t like each other or can’t get along. There just appears to be an insatiable wanderlust that drives Southerns to migrate and explore. For two years my family had all three U.S. coasts covered. It’s still that way with my son and a cousin in Florida, our niece in North Carolina, Sandy’s sister’s family in South Carolina, many of my cousins on my father’s side still living in California and some of Sandy’s cousins and an uncle living in Washington.

Dad, Chip and Heather are holding down the fort in Colorado, along with Chip’s son and his new bride. Sandy and I are firmly entrenched in Texas along with Luke and Colton, our two youngest. Luke opted to remain in the Richmond/Rosenberg area when we moved to Brazos County two years ago. Colton left right after graduation weekend for a summer internship in the Hill Country. He will likely go on to grad school somewhere out of state.

For the first time in our 25 years of marriage, Sandy and I have no children at home. We each brought a child with us into our marriage and added two more. Now, all four are gone and we are beginning to understand what it means to have an empty nest. Although the children are gone, our nest remains feathered by our chickens, ducks and goose. We also have two dogs and two cats at home, along with some goldfish we use for mosquito control in our rain barrel and pond.

The critters occupy a lot of our free time, but it’s not the same as having children in the home. It also means that without Colton to help out, more of the chores fall on us. Actually, all of them fall on us, but that’s beside the point.

As our children leave the nest, I’m developing an appreciation for what my parents went through. Right after I graduated from college, I moved to Minnesota and then to North Carolina. I returned to Colorado for nine years and then was gone to Texas. It never occurred to me what my parents must have felt when we uprooted and left with their grandchildren.

I guess it’s only fair in that my parents raised me and my brothers hundreds of miles from their parents. My dad’s family moved from Arkansas to California just before he was born. My dad’s grandfather migrated to Arkansas from Illinois and his great-grandfather moved from Virginia to Illinois. Obviously, Southerns just can’t sit still.

My mother’s grandparents immigrated from Sweden and the family has mostly stayed in and around Omaha, Nebraska. Mom was the only one to make a move 500 miles away until years later when two of my cousins flew the coop.

There are times when I equate moving a thousand miles from home to southeast Texas to that of the early Texas pioneers moving here from parts east. We all came for a new beginning and untold opportunities. The opportunities we’ve had here have been well worth the move, although I still miss my family, friends and the mountains.

I can’t say that my move here will be my last, but most likely it is. Sandy and I love it here. We have great jobs and we’re thoroughly enjoying life on the hobby farm. I just wish the kids lived a little closer, especially when (or if) they start having children of their own.

In the meantime, we will enjoy family from afar and cherish the holidays and special occasions when we can all come together again.

Close your phone and go outside

 

Hey you! Yeah, you – the one with the cellphone, tablet, or whatever computer screen you’re looking at. Do yourself a huge favor and turn it off and go outside (after you read this, of course).

Don’t take your device with you or at least don’t look at it for a while. Just bask in the sunlight and enjoy the beautiful world around you. It’s probably the best thing you can do on a regular basis to improve your mind and body.

We hear it all the time, less screentime and more sunshine. If you’re like me, however, it can be difficult to follow that advice. We’re slaves to our screens. From gigantic television screens to average computer screens to tiny cellphone screens, most of us spend an abnormal amount of time in a digital trance, oblivious to the real world around us.

When I was a kid, parents used to caution their children about watching too much TV. If they had known what we’re up against today, they may have taken a stronger stand. As a parent, I know I’ve failed my children by allowing them far too much screen time. I know it’s my fault because I fell victim to the glowing allure of digital distraction.

There is no telling how many years of my life I’ve lost on Facebook. I can’t get that time back. I can’t spend that time playing catch with my kids, teaching them how to fish, how to ride a bike, or watching them play sports. They’re grown and gone.

It wasn’t as bad as it sounds. We did Boy Scouts and church events together. We had a good life back then. But at home, I was more likely to spend an evening in front of my computer than I was engaging my kids in some kind of activity. During their early years I was diagnosed with moderate to severe depression. I dulled my pain digitally, mostly ignoring the advice of my doctors and therapists to go outside and move.

Over the years I’ve learned that exercise is essential to physical and mental health. Even if it’s just going for a walk, your body requires some kind of daily activity. Our bodies also need regular doses of sunlight to produce the vitamin D we need to survive. I was reminded of that the other day when my doctor looked at my blood test results and prescribed me vitamin D pills. Message received – more time in the garden coming up!

I joined the Brazos Bend State Park Volunteer Organization several years ago when we were living in Rosenberg. I spent a lot of time at the park and frequently hiked the trails and did nature interpretation for visitors. You would be surprised at how many times I saw people focused on their phones, ignoring the natural beauty surrounding them. Even if they were not engaging their screens, they had earbuds in and were missing out on the melodious sounds of the birds, frogs, alligators and other animals at the park.

One of the observations my wife has made about me is that I’m generally more attentive and in a better mood after I’ve spent time physically active outdoors.

There are numerous studies out there that describe how bad screen time is for our mental health and development, especially for children. It leads to all kinds of anxiety, stress, relational problems and more. It also takes away from being physically active, which leads to obesity and numerous other health problems.

Children today have not learned to benefit from being bord. Constant entertainment kills creativity, curiosity and the ability to think and solve problems. They depend on the magic box in their hands to do that for them. That will only get worse the more advanced artificial intelligence becomes.

When I got bored as a kid, I drew pictures, built models, jumped on the trampoline, rode my bike, played games (not video games) with the other neighbor kids. We had fun and kept ourselves organically entertained and physically fit. We built lasting friendships and relationships.

We need to get back to that. So please, take this time to turn off whatever screen device you’re using and get out and enjoy life while you can. You’ll be pleasantly surprised at what a difference it makes for you, your family and your community.