Thursday, June 24, 2010

"I Do Hereby Proclaim, I have found It"

He was “all wet” all right, but not in the Fountain of Youth discovery. Juan Ponce de Leon hop-scotched over from Puerto Rico and has been given credit for discovering what he thought or hoped was the fountain of youth at St. Augustine, Florida in the 16th century. It ain’t so. Or at least in my opinion.

The fountain of Youth is in Luckenbach, Texas. No one probably noticed but I have been absent a day or two. I took a couple of days off from the office while The Boss and I took a short vacation to Fredricksburg, Texas. Six million, eight thousand, three hundred and six , (that is where I stopped counting), motorcycles decided to do the same thing. On Saturday, on our way back home, we “cut through” to stop in on Luckenbach, Texas. The motor cycle riders decided to do that too. Most of you know I am a frustrated wanna be git-tar picker and If you had a radio and only listened to one country song, around ’78-’80,you have heard , “Let’s go to Luckenback, Texas, with Willie Waylon and the Boys”. Sooo, that is what I did.

Everyone must have thought this was the fountain of youth because most of us there had more wrinkles in ourselves than our jeans. After sass-shaying around the grounds and in and out of the “fountain” part of the party, I did feel a little better. See there? I told you. It was hot so I go me another bottle of youth and plopped down in an empty chair and just stared at all the people. Everyone seemed to feel younger than their gray hair indicated. I did. How come that is, reckon?

It was just like Ole’ Ponce. He felt better when he splashed off in what he thought was the fountain of youth just because he “thought” he felt better. Me too, ‘cept I didn’t splash off in anything, I just had a good time reminissin’. I know I felt better than that dude that was walking so bow-legged that his steps were wider than they were long. He had had a long trail ride and the last half of that ride was coming up. All I had to look forward to was air conditioning, cruise control and power steering. Besides, we only had about twenty miles until we got to the next bed and breakfast at which we were going to stay.

I was gonna write a real “sturring” response on the effects of this fountain of youth but I think ya’ll would have a good time doing a little research on your own. There is quite a bit on this part of Texas even though there ain’t much to the place itself. It is all in one’s mind and you will see what I am talking about….maybe. I will post a couple of clicking links ( go ahead and “Google “ – Hondo Crouch )and If I can figure out how to get ‘em in the right places, I will post some pics.



http://www.luckenbachtexas.com/ 

http://www.lone-star.net/mall/literature/hondo.htm

http://good-times.webshots.com/photo/2635408420099034237ZVALZX



These high pixel pics take forty forevers to upload, so I will post more pics later.  One more thought.  I was telling my oldest daughter about Luckenbach and she finally asked,,"You mean, they don't even have a Walmart"?  I 'bout fell out of my chair I stopped my story right there.  :)


Friday, June 4, 2010

It is Prononced "Tatersaaalliiiiiiiiddd"

We’re dropping like flies. Us “Bloggers” that’s who. Me too, but I am going to try to hang in there.

It has been awhile since I posted. A lot of things have been going on around the Ole Casa. Everyone has had a lot to do. Me too, but I sometimes don’t really know if you all enjoy reading what I slap up on the screen or you are just real nice people, about it. I think maybe it could be a little of both. Reckon? What I do know is, I enjoy reading what you folks write. I think what it is, is “Battling Fatigue”. Not battle fatigue, but , well you get the kinda play on words. I could go on about it but I think for me to fight my “battle” of fatigue is to tell you about this barbeque place, "Ribmasters" in this small community that The Boss and I go to quite regularly.

The Boss’s favorite is a plain chopped beef sandwich with lots of barbeque sauce on it. In Texas, beef is pretty much the king of B-B-Q. Pork is the favorite in other parts of the south but Texas has always had an abundance of cows ready to be a participant in this age old range cuisine. Brisket is a part of the cow that if not cooked properly is rather tough to eat, but with slow consistent temperature, it can be mouth watering tender. If any of you read the story about The Boss and me going to Denton and Greenville, well during that time of early life experiences, I worked at a Barbeque place in Denton. It was a bad thing. Oh, no, Not the Barbeque, but the fact that I went from 220 pounds to 275 in short order.

Pork ribs is another specialty that is different than some parts of the south. Beef ribs are popular in other parts and we cook them fairly regular here too but pork ribs reign king as far as I am concerned. They can be found either with the “dry rub” or “glazed”. Dry rub is with a mixture of seasoning rubbed on the slab of ribs before cooking and that is all you do to them. To glaze the slab, seasoning can or cannot be rubbed before cooking, but just before they are “done”, a sauce is put on the ribs and the fire “glazes” them to a tacky consistency. The sauce is often times a sweet and tangy sauce with a little bit of a “fire-ie” punch to it. I guess that is where the term, “season to taste” comes from.

Potato salad is a staple side dish, but a lot of people around here might look at you sideways if you order it that way. “Tatersaaaaaliiid” is the preferred pronunciation in these parts. I ain’t much on tatersallid. It use-lee has un-yunns in it. But, this place also has baked potatoes. I have my own recipe with that. Instead of me going all through the proper grammar and mixin’ procedures, I have posted a picture of a real “Texas BBQ Tater”. It ought to be a secret, but I will share it with you just this one time.

  Wouldn’t ya like to have a bite of this? Yummm


Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Take a "Look-See"

Ms. Keli at "Septembermom" site has another site that I have mentioned in the past.  Click on the Post Title to go to her site "My Voice, My View".

Write With Pictures 
Click here:  http://writewithpictures.blogspot.com/

There is a daily prompt and it is fun to play for a few minutes.  The more people at the party, the more fun there is.  Jump over and "crash" that party and see how much fun you can have.  This is lead in for my "bragging" about Ms. Keli being nice and picking one of my entries.  I am going to visit often.. How about you.


Prompt: Wednesday Ten ,,
Ten Words Only to "Think" the Picture

"The present reflected by the unseen depths of the past."






..

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Why ??







,
Why? Ever ask yourself that question? I didn’t think so. Me neither. Well, maybe sometime. Today, for instance. Why am I attracted to old movie theatres? I don’t know. I don’t care much if I don’t know exactly why. I think it has to do with “grinning”. No, I don’t prefer comedies or goofy story lines in movies. I am a serious individual.

The Boss and I were eating breakfast at one of our many favorite places we frequent on Saturday mornings. “Frequent” is the right word, trust me. She was sitting there patting her foot waiting for me to finish my cup of coffee. She doesn’t drink coffee.

“Know what?”

“What?”, slurp

"I have been thinking, I wonder what the house Grandmother used to live in looks like?”

Slurp. “Humph.”

“I have thought about it a several times.”

"Ok, Let’s go then.” Coffee cup empty. I had worn out my excuses.

“It’s in Greenville.”
.“I ain’t that senile yet.” I slide my coffee cup to the side.

“And then we could ride on over to Denton and look at the house we moved into when we got married. That is only a little over an hour more”
.
“Did you take your pills this morning?”
.
“Yes, but I need my sunglasses.”
.
At 11:30 am we are leaving the house for the second time that morning. Sunglasses, books, Kindle and cameras. Off to Grandmother’s house we go.
.
In a couple of hours we were driving up and down the remembered street counting the lots of the once sidewalk edged street. Well, things aren’t as big, long, or shinny as we remember growing up. The street was broken and cracked. Weeds lined both sides of the once manicured street.
.“Ok, it is in the next block, slow down.”
I would have never guessed to do that. I coasted to an almost slow crawl.

“We missed it. You have got to turn around.”

I would have never guessed to do that. I turned around right in the middle of the next intersection. There was no traffic. I had to be careful of the Dodge pickup that looked abandoned.

“Ok, don’t go so fast, you will pass it again.”

Do you think I would have ever guessed to do that?
.“It’s gone.”
It was gone. The pier foundation posts were still there.

“What happen to it?"
.
“I don’t know. I guess somebody took it.” I was amused at my wit.

The Boss’s expression revealed to me that not only was I not amusing, but there was more to it than that.

We expect things to stay as we remembered them. Time has passed since I started this story. Time had devoured that small part of her world. I did not feel witty anymore. I made another turnaround and drove back down the street. It was still discouraging.

“Well, let’s go on to Denton and we will have a good time there.” Putting an optimistic spin on the situation, I felt, seemed like a good idea.

“Ok.” Looking out the window, she was searching one last time. I could not see her face.

As we drove out of that neighborhood, I think maybe that street still had its sidewalks bordered with neatly trimmed grass and flowers dotting the adjacent yards. I am pretty sure The Boss saw it
.
* * * * * * * *
Denton, Texas 1970, avenue B. flash to 2010.

“Turn left here.”
.
I don’t think I would have thought of that. How did I ever make it this far, reckon?
.
“The street used to be crushed rock. Remember trying to ride that old bicycle that you painted florescent green on all that gravel. This is much better. I am glad to see good changes for a while.”
.
I slowed to a crawl, I don’t have to be told three times.
.
“It should be right there. But,,It is gone. There are apartments there now.”
.
I backed the van up. There was no Dodge pickup in the way on the street. “Are you sure it wasn’t the last one, there?”
.
“No, it was next to the last one on the street. It’ gone.”
.
“The E-Z Mart is still back there. We passed it awhile ago. Let’s go get some M&Ms and a Dr Pepper. Remember? We used to do that every time I got paid.” I didn’t want her looking out the window like back in Greenville. I almost felt a little frantic.
.
“Ok, but It’s gone.” Something must have been outside the window.
.
“Let’s ride around the square. I want to take some shots of the old movie theaters. I have been taking pictures in every town I travel to when calling on customers. Those M&Ms are pretty good aren’t they?”
.
Crunch, Crunch, Crunch.
.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
.
In 1971, John Wayne as “Big Jake” came to the silver screen at the Campus Theatre on west Hickory Avenue. We were there. The theatre was still there. I got out of the van and walked up to the front door. The Boss stayed with the air conditioning and her Kindle. I could see someone moving around through the round windows of the lobby doors leading into the main auditorium. I figured that if I messed around looking through the front door long enough he would get curious and ask what the heck I wanted.

I jumped a mile. A nicely dressed young woman came from behind me. “Could I help you?”

“Ah, yes ma’um,,ah my name is (you know what it is), and my wife and I moved to Denton in 1970 and we came to this theater all the time.” I sort of was talking off the cuff.”And I am a famous writer and I got this blog site, and all my friends would just love to hear about how,, this and that.” I could see it in her face. She finally smiled.

“Would you like to peek inside?”
.
“Oh, yes ma’um, that would be wonderful, and if you don’t mind, would it be ok to take a few pictures of the inside, if I can’t, well, I understand and all that.” Envision a “hang-dog” look right here.
A light chuckle. “Sur’uh, but I am running behind and we have a play performance tonight so I have GOT to get some paper work finished. Just take all you want.”

“Yes Ma’um, I will only take a few so I will only be a minute.”

Dirty Rotten Scoundrels played that Saturday night. I did not go to the show, but, you know what? I am going to one in the future. I might go to two of them. The building was refurbished to its original state.

The carpet was manufactured in the original weave and color pattern. The seats were upgraded. professional stage lighting was installed and it looked like the stage area may have been enlarged. Some things I miss. I am a talker not a reporter, but I wanted to share with you why I like old theatres, both renovated and dilapidated. I am attracted to all of them. Why? Well that is how we started today and after studying about it. I think it is because they hold a treasure of universal memories for everyone that has ever had the opportunity to go to one of the single screen, pop corn cooking, shoe sole sticking movie houses. They can fall in on themselves but the mystic is never “gone”. Try to look at one, if you are old enough to remember them, and try to keep that grin off your face.

Larry McMurtry, I hope you are wrong. I hope there will never be “The Last Picture Show”
.
If you want to drop by "The Campus" website just click on the highlight
Say "hello" to Ms. Julie
**sorry about the spacing and layout, after 1.5 hours of everything jumping around, I gave up. Try you best to read it.. lol







.

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Where Ya'll Been?

While taking a minute to check in on all you folks after being kind of "absent", I saw this post over at Ron Paul's "Where Sky Meet Ground.." blog.

http://skymeetsground.blogspot.com/2010/05/true-colors.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+WhereSkyMeetsGround+%28Where+Sky+Meets+Ground%29

I am not going to preface this with a "not gonna be a political post", but it ain't, but if we don't think about what Ron and all the other men and women who protect us and our families from danger, then , hell I can't help it. Please visit his site and if I have inadvertently offended anyone..

ookkkayyy,, i will do better next time,,

Friday, April 30, 2010

Repost for My Niece

Actually this was a combination of one or more happenings, but it was to fit a "prompt" on a writing blog,,and a repost...I don't think my niece (this is her mom,,lol ) has read this and she asked if I had written any stories lately..


"Street, where I grew up"


I love the street where I grew up. Now that might be an overstatement, but I do definitely hold a lot of fondness for the unnamed oil top road that lead out to the main highway.

Well, I guess it had a name but it was always called “First street to the left after you pass Ross’s Affiliated Food Store”, Our house sat almost directly across the street from Grannie and Paw’s house. Both houses are gone now. At least from there. Grannie and Paw’s house now sits in a pasture ten miles toward town. Back to where they moved it from in the first or was it the second place. Anyhow, Daddy’s house was moved thirty miles south to sit next door to one of my sister’s house (the one in this story,,no, sister not the house, well the house too,,just read on). Everyone should rest easy because the street is still there. I saw it just this last Sunday.

I rode over that way intentionally to take a picture for a story that I wrote. I took the picture but decided to not use it for that story, so I will use it for this story. I jump around, a lot, kind of like Grannie and Paw’s house.

Me and my younger sister, (she is still older than me), we stayed into stuff all the time. You remember me telling you about the main highway. Well, we couldn’t ride our J.C. Higgins, Sears Roebuck, store bought bicycles on the main highway, but that was where the filling station was that sold snow cones,- if he ever had ice. There ain’t no need to fill you in on the deciding part of whether or whethern’t we were going. I guess you can say the first leg of the trip was uneventful.

The old codger had a way of intimidating us kids when we ordered our snow cones If you asked for extra syrup, he would stop pouring right then and say, “hee’uh, that’s enough”, and if you didn’t say anything, he liable to just stop anyhow. I can’t remember what she got but I got the coconut. Bright blue. Syrup and ice running down my chin and forearm. Dripping off my elbow onto the sizzling hot oil dirt in front of the old filling station.

Have you ever tried to ride a bicycle while holding onto and eating a snow cone? A bright blue, coconut snow cone? Well she was better at it than I was. I was able to catch up to her at the hill right before you had to turn left, just past Ross’s Affiliated Food Store. It was always a known fact that to get back to, or get to anywhere on a bicycle, there is a race. I had a plan. I was not going to be outsmarted or out bicycled.

I kept a piece of a cane pole stuck behind and through my seat. This was to protect me from dogs. I steadied my left hand, holding half of the bright blue coconut snow cone, on the left handlebar. With my right hand, I reached back and snatched my dog stick from its perch. With one quick motion I won the bicycle battle, but lost the bicycle war. In my mind, it would just slow her down enough so that I could zoom on ahead and have bragging rights to arriving home first. It DID slow her down. My aim was perfect. The cane pole slide between the two spokes just about where the valve stem was. The wheel came around and the cane pole locked against the front wheel support fork.

Here it gets a little fuzzy. From later examination, the fork proved a lot stronger than the spokes. The fork held. Half the spokes didn’t. They vanished. Ass over tea kettle just don’t quiet describe the following event. Luckily the grass at the edge of the street was pretty tall. The dust had not even settled when she jumped up. She was wearing her snow cone mixed with a sundry of other green vegetation. How I held onto that Blue coconut snow cone I can’t even begin to guess, but she gingerly took it from my left hand and soon I was wearing THAT blue snow cone. We didn’t even try to make up a story to tell when we got home. It was our butts! – AAA-ginnn..

Epilogue: This episode was minor. Someday I will tell you about how I had to let her shoot me in the butt with my own BB gun.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Good morning,, after wrestling with Best Buy all night and still have to go back today. (new computer crashed).. I have the information now.

I send a big thank you to Ms. Keli (septemnermom) at My Voice, My View http://www.myvoicemyview.blogspot.com/ . She volunteered to be the “Depot Person”. Her email address is on her profile. Add to the beginning story and send your address to Ms. Keli www.septemberkel@yahoo.com and she will forward your WINNIN PRIZE to you. Now that ain’t to complicated is it. Remember if you don’t want to write a “story comment” just say hi and you win.

Just a couple more things: It would be nice if you would stop by and say hello to Septembermom’s Blogsite (My Voice, My View) and read her efforts. It will be your treat. ALSO, she and some friends have a blogsite that needs a visit and PARTICIPATION,,,,, “Write With Pictures” http://www.writewithpictures.blogspot.com/ ,It is a great site to just enjoy and post your reactions to the “Pictures” posted for writing prompts.

Again, Thank you Ms. Keli,, and everyone is invited to come along.. Thanks Glenn

Here we Go..


The Note….

5957 Canal B. The brass address plate dangles askew, missing two of its four anchors. The rain rolls off the canvas awning. An odd crease forms a trough that spits a stream of water two feet beyond the edge of the tattered green covering. Stepping around the splattering geyser, shaking her umbrella, the fashionably dressed lady opened the door and stepped inside.

Twenty years prior, the fishnet had made a nice touch to the décor, along with the scattered green glass net floats. An over sized fish tank , sitting behind a row of padded leather chairs hummed and bubbled a calypso rhythm. Removing her rain coat the stranger dropped it across the back of the barstool adjacent to the ones he sat in which he sat. It seemed insane that she was even here. The room had an aroma that was definitely of seafood, but did not smell like fish. The stink of stale beer burned her nose.

All she had was a crumpled piece of paper with this address and a name scrawled in pencil. He had handed her the note as he stepped from the subway. No one had seen the assailant. He only took a few steps after getting off the train. He collapsed right in front of her. Her only misfortune was she was waiting to get on the train.

“Please, find Johnnie, tell him….”

He never spoke another word as his hand slid from hers leaving the note and a twenty dollar bill.
Before the police could arrive, she panicked and ran. Now she was here.

“Does anyone know Johnnie Wittenbrook?”

Her question rang throughout the restaurant without warning. The room fell silent. One old bearded seaman pushed his chair back and walked out of the room without speaking. It seemed that even the fish tank had fallen silent.

The quiet was finally broken when…..