Dunsmuir to Naval Air Station Lemoore

Posted on April 26, 2016 by Jerrie Cate

The title is our current location, the one we attained on the long drive from Dunsmuir. Driving tasks were shared, which is new for our trips. We’ve established a new pattern where Diane starts us off, I drive the middle, and she ends it. Works just great. I drove for 2 hours and 4 minutes. She drove the other 5. Doesn’t seem fair, I know, but that’s way better than her driving all 7 of them, which she’s been known to do. It’s nice to know that she trusts me now.

While in Dunsmuir we had time to wander around a bit and learned that there’s way more to the place than the little bit one sees while flying by on the freeway. It’s an old town which we confirmed by visiting the local cemetery. We do that once in a while because we find it very interesting. I even took photos, like normal. The three headstones shown captured my interest the most. The first one because it’s a military stone commemorating a gentleman who was in the Indian Wars. Never seen one of those before. The older two were important to me because they were obviously hand-made and didn’t have dates. Just the names Pa and Ma Rafferty.

Then this church jumped up in front of us and demanded a photo of its own. Really nice stone work. Beautiful.

One of the most anticipated portions of this trip was when we went by Shasta Lake. The last few times we’ve been this way, the lake has been nearly empty. We were happy to see that it was full, once again.

I tried taking a photo when we crossed the bridge, but that didn’t work out very well. So, Diane drove down to the moorage on the other side, something we’ve never done before. It was good to see the recovery up close and personal.

Somewhere along the line, noonish I think, we stopped to eat brunch. I found a place using my iPad that looked promising and that’s where we went. It was a country-style place where everything is home-made on site. Nice. I think they shipped the eggs in from someplace because we couldn’t hear any chicken noises. Same for the bacon … no pig noises. There was, however, a cow out back. I think.

Anyway, we both had omelets and fried potatoes with non-noutrishonal white bread toast. It’s our favorite. While eating, Diane saw a guy digging around in the garbage for something to eat. Sitting there with a nice meal in front of us required that we take action. I went out and introduced myself and saw that he was articulate and didn’t appear to be incapacitated. I asked if I could buy him a meal and he said that would be great. I escorted him inside and turned him over to the hostess, then gave him $20 so he could get whatever he wanted. He chose to sit by himself and ordered a huge order of biscuits and gravy. Satisfied that he wasn’t going to bolt and spend the money on something less healthy, I left him alone. He said his name is John and he’s from Longview, Washington.

Figure the odds of that. We’re from St. Helens, Oregon, 800+ miles from home and John is from Longview which is only about 15 miles away from our home. Diane and I call these chance meetings “God Moments” because we feel we are led to moments in time where we have a chance to make a good decision. It’s gratifying to make the right one.

Getting John fed allowed me to return to Diane and enjoy my Denver omelet.

And Diane got a good cup of coffee …

Now we’re enjoying our stop at NAS Lemoore. When we arrived the fighter jets were landing and taking off, making lots of noise. That was going on when Diane called her Mom to relate our day. She had to stop a few times because she couldn’t hear and I asked if I should call the front desk and complain about the noise. She didn’t think it would be a good idea, considering where we were and all.

I could only agree. Then we ate soup and called it a night.

Viva Las Vegas !!

Posted on March 31, 2015 by Jerrie Cate

So, we’ve been in Las Vegas since last Friday (28th) which you may all assume is the reason for delaying this entry. You’d think we were out running the strip with the rest of the party crowd, adding to our collection of those girly cards that are given freely available to anyone, even children, to accept those evocative gifts. It’s evident that many folks aren’t happy that their children accepted those cards by the number of them littering the sidewalks and street. I’ve been collecting those cards for years and have successfully gathered 998 cards with unique renditions of very pretty girls with very little, or no clothing, no two alike. I feel that’s quite an accomplishment considering that most of the cards are duplicates. I haven’t collected any this trip, yet, but I’m after those illusive two needed to round my collection up to 1,000. I actually saw one that I needed, but it was in the street and I figured Diane would frown on me picking it up, so I sadly walked on by, watching it disappear in my peripherals as those unconcerned people revelers around me nimbly walked over it, grinding it into the pavement making it totally useless for a valid collection destined to become very valuable.

But, no, that was not the case. Instead we’ve been spending most of our time gazing out the window of our room at the millions of lights illuminating the pointy end of Nevada. Here’s part of what we can see from our room on the 54th floor of the Elara.

Quite festive. We can see, from left to right, Aria,The Cosmopolitan, Rio, Bellagio, Planet Hollywood, Caesars Palace, Paris, The Mirage, Treasure Island, Trump, Wynn, Palazzo, Encore, Ballys, Venetian, Harrah’s, High Roller Ferris Wheel, and the Stratosphere. Granted, we can’t see the fronts of them all, but enough to make for a pretty dramatic night sky.

The main reason for making Las Vegas our vacation destination this trip was to join a group of old folks with whom we’ve become acquainted over the years because of our mutual fascination with the Chrysler PT Cruiser. The 109 in attendance, including us, still own PTs, and a large number of them drove their vehicles to the party. The notable exception was our new friend from Sydney, Australia. Pretty cool that he came all that way to visit with us. There were lots of folks from Canada, and the US East Coast, too. This event was the brain child of our friend, Rick, pictured below with my bride, Diane.

This gathering was for breakfast at the Gold Coast for which we had to leave our warm beds at 0500 Monday morning. It was good. Rick, Rick, and Pat had microphones and went around the room giving everyone a chance to introduce themselves. Once some of them got the microphone, however, they were compelled to share some pretty involved stories about their love affair with the PT. Pat Chase, who is, oddly, the current husband of Pat Chase, gave an impressive dissertation on the PT Cruiser from its concept to production, and all the emotions associated with that little car during it’s production run from 2001 through 2010. In another 15 years our 2005 convertible will be a classic. Can’t wait for that. The downside of that is that I’ll be 86 and the state of Oregon probably won’t let me drive it.

The remainder of Monday’s activities for us, after breakfast, was to find a car wash so we could get the bugs scraped off the front of Diane’s new Impala. I found one really close to the Gold Coast that is strictly a hand wash facility. They did an outstanding job and made the car look awesome. This is the new ride …Monday night 58 of us took a 3-4 hour ride on The Big Bus tour of Las Vegas with Kate as our tour guide. Had it not been for her interaction with our crowd of old folks, the trip would have been kind of ho-hum, “look at all the pretty lights” instead of the incredibly detailed, historically correct narrative of every building or vacant lot we passed. She even gave us some pretty interesting back ground of many of the questionable people we passed during our travels. Kate is extremely funny and could easily, in my estimation, excel as a standup comic. Perhaps she is one of those already, but that wasn’t mentioned. She was, however, the Witch in “Wicked” and played all over the west coast for considerable amount of time.

Kate has a commanding presence and we all fell in love with her during that 3-hour tour. What a gal. Here she is making friends with one of the many Ricks who made the trip from Oregon. One of the other Ricks is sitting right there to the right in front of Linda. The other Rick, our leader, was sitting up front.

Sadly, the Rick pictured with Kate injured his knee on the way up the steps to this seat and had to be carted away in a wheel chair at the end of the tour. We trust he will be fine, eventually, but don’t have a prognosis at this time. He was taken to one of the local hospitals, of which I found there are many in the area.

Here are a few of the places we saw along the way down the strip.

Then we headed for the Golden Nugget Hotel & Casino on Fremont Street.

We’ve been there many, many years ago, before it evolved into what it is now, so we weren’t prepared for the incredible transformation that’s been made in that area. It’s pretty amazing.

Outside the Golden Nugget, Fremont Street is totally covered with a curved video screen that stretches over 300 feet. Below the screen, for the entire length, stretched 3 zip line wires on which people whizzed by overhead.

When we first got there it was displaying random graphics which were very pleasing. As we walked through the crush of people on the street, we were smitten with all the pretty lights and the great attitude of the crowd. We didn’t encounter any attitudes at all during our circumnavigation of this amazing venue. About halfway around all the lights along the street, and those advertising the various facilities, were extinguished and the overhead display lit up along the entire length of the street and the sound was cranked up as we were entertained with a Bon Jovi concert of epic proportions. It was mesmerizing and incredibly fun to watch. Even for an old guy like me.

Inside the Golden Nugget all the lights are covered with these incredible artsy creations and all I could think about was how I’m so happy I don’t have to change the light bulbs in them. Pretty, but really sharp on the pointy ends.

Also inside the Golden Nugget is the Shark Tank. A swimming pool surrounds the tank and you can see a tube running through the center of the tank. That’s the end part of a water slide that starts a couple of floors above the tank and through which people fly, probably with their eyes closed. Kinda freaky.

Prior to the evening festivities, we wandered around the Miracle Mile Shopping portion of Planet Hollywood where Diane found a hat shop. She loves hats and looks great wearing pretty much anything on her head.

That’s pretty much it for yesterday. We had a terrific time and are looking forward to the evening festivities today. We’re having the Old PT People Banquet (OPTPB) at the Gold Coast. Should be a hoot.

Merc Returns Safely From Camp Tadmor!

Posted on August 18, 2014 by Jerrie Cate

Merc, his camp name, aka Cedric, was retrieved from Camp Tadmor yesterday afternoon after spending two months living in the wild eating bugs and wild berries, and feral rats as a member of a group of super heroes who monitor camping activities of hundreds of younger, severely advanced members of homo erectus from all over the world. He slept on the ground, without benefit of blanket or pillow, and has permanent dents in his sides and back that look a lot like pine cones, small rocks, large bugs, mice, birds, and other debris that typically litter the forest floor of this camp located a bit SE of Lebanon, Oregon. There’s talk about having these impressions tattooed to ensure he retains the memory on the off-chance they fade over time.

Diane, her Mom, Jean, and I traversed the harrowing I-5 corridor from Portland, artfully dodging drivers from neighboring states, who are apparently allowed to disregard some pretty basic driving laws, to retrieve Merc from the tenacious clutches of his fellow campers and counselors so he could be returned to civilization to prepare for his Junior year of High School.

On the trip down, the Buick’s A/C decided to go on the fritz making the vehicle interior a bit uncomfortable in the near-90 degree heat, but we persevered and arrived safely. When we arrived we visited with some adults who are part of the camp’s permanent crew, one of which was Ruby who is about 1. Very cute. With dimples. She looked at me in a ho-hum manner but lit right up with a big smile when Diane sauntered over. We suspect it was because of her natural affinity to like anyone who looks like a Grandma.

We didn’t have to wait long for the tour bus to arrive, bringing the campers back from their 2-day trip to Sisters, Oregon where they were encouraged to frolic in a river. Each person was given a bar of soap prior to the raft trip which they used to scrub away two months of grime they had accumulated as there are no showers at the camp and they aren’t allowed to contaminate the local streams in an effort to remain shiny.

As they exited the bus, it was readily evident that each of them had experienced a profound event, made life-long friendships, and were a bit sad to be leaving. But, leave they must. First, however, it was apparently mandatory that all of the girls who attended had to hug Merc. They lined up in two rows and waited their turn for a short time, then they all flocked to him leaving us only a small glimpse of the baseball had he was wearing. We had to pry the last three girls off him so we could get him to the Buick and begin the trip home. One of the girls broke down and sobbed. It was very touching, but Merc’s family was waiting for his return back in St. Helens and we had to go. He understood the need, as did the sobbing girl.

The trip home, for Merc, was filled with a constant stream of text messages with those he had just left, as well as all his family at home. His phone was DOA at the beginning of the trip, but i just happened to have a charger which we hooked up so he could get busy with his texting.

I don’t think he quit smiling during the entire 2.5 hour trip home.

When we arrived, he was greeted in the driveway by his Mom, Jennifer, Dad, Daniel, Sister, Lydia, and brother, Jeran. We stood around visiting for a few minutes before he went into the house where he discovered that about 10 of his friends had gathered to welcome him home. It was a touching scene, replacing his recent sense of loss with one of incredible gain.

It was a great day.

Sadly, I do not have any photos of either the departure or arrival home, but I do have one of Merc in a truck that a group of his fellow campers liberated it from a local farmer who inadvertently left it in his corn field from which the group was gathering food for one of their meals.

Cedric is wearing the blue shirt, just behind the cab of the pickup.

No doubt you have all guessed that the foregoing narrative, with the exception of the touchy-feely aspects of the camp departure, and home arrival, are pure gibberish. Lot’s of it is true, but most of it isn’t.

Camp Tadmor is a Christian camp where most of the activities I related are discouraged. It’s a great place, actually. It’s all about caring for one another and getting in touch with ones inner self. Cedric has returned to us with a far more confident outlook and a more firm direction on where his life will go. We’re proud of his efforts and of the fine young man he is.

After he shaves his face, he will be perfect.

Independence Day and Beyond

Posted on July 6, 2014 by Jerrie Cate

Here is it, Sunday, July 6th, and I didn’t wish all of you a safe and happy 4th. Now that it’s over, I trust all who are reading this still have full use of their digits and senses. Unless someone is reading this to you, I trust you at least have the use of some of the important parts that you were issued at birth.

Now, the reason I’ve not been around lately is because we’ve had house guests … Bob, Steffani, and Maryssa … from Idaho. I know, I mentioned Idaho not too long ago, but that’s because we were there. Apparently the three mentioned above decided to follow us home after waiting for an appropriate amount of time, hoping we’d forget we just saw them a short time ago, I’m sure. As soon as they arrived I was forced to give up my garage door opener so they could have unlimited access to our home.

That’s not true, of course. They were officially invited. Really. They were. All of them.

Consequently, we spent most of our time waiting on them hand and foot from last Sunday evening through yesterday morning. Sounds bad, I know, but it was totally self-imposed. They didn’t expect that kind of treatment and, in truth, they didn’t really get it. Since they’re related, they don’t get that kind of treatment. They had to scavenge for any scrapes of food they could get, just like I do. Being the oldest, and slowest human in the building made it difficult to obtain the minimum daily fiber intake which resulted in an overall 10 pound weight increase. Without the need to compete for bathroom time, I’m confident I’ll quickly rid myself of the extra weight fairly quickly.

The real reason our three house guests visited was so the youngest of them, Maryssa, recent Skyview High School graduate, has a boyfriend, Sage, who is playing baseball on a summer league in Portland. All of the young men playing in the league comprise a pool of new talent for all those professional baseball teams out there. If he doesn’t get drafted, he will go to the University of North Carolina after he graduates next year. Sage is a stellar example of what many of today’s youth lack – manners and respect. Thankfully, he was exposed to our small town relatives who also exemplify that example when he visited our home several times during the past week. I did my best to be the best host ever s there’s a chance I’ll get a ticket to see a pro baseball game one of these days.

July 4^th started early for me. Not only because the dogs got me up early, but also because I had to stay up and honor a volunteer commitment to help place flags around town with other Lions International members at 0700. Since I had an American Legion obligation to participate in a flag raising ceremony in front of the old courthouse at 0800, I just stuck around down town. After the flag, I helped set up the combined American Legion/Veterans of Foreign Wars booth at which some items were being raffled off to the public passing by on their way to the waterfront area. One was a 20’ flag pole and another was a weekend stay at a beach cabin in either Warrenton, Oregon, or Ocean Park, Washington. The Columbia County Humane Society had a booth next to us and they raffled gift baskets. I donated money to the flag pole and gift basket raffles.

I don’t know what time I left during the morning, but I had to be back at 1:30 pm to participate in a bell ringing ceremony. When I returned, my friend Doug gave me the choice of which bell to ring so I chose the one at the marina in front of the old court-house. The bell is in a ½ replica of the warning bell tower located on Warrior Rock a little ways up the Columbia River from St. Helens. The replica is located near the waterfront gazebo where a very loud band was playing right up until the moment of the bell ceremony so I had a rapt audience for this interruption of their afternoon entertainment. The bell ceremony consists of ringing the bell 13 times, for our original 13 colonies, at 2 pm every 4^th of July. All the bells in town had someone pulling their ropes at the same time. It was quite solemn.

I stayed in the area of the information booth until 5 pm at which time I had to leave and attend the family dinner Diane had been working on for the last 3-4 days. In attendance were Diane, Bob, Steffani, Maryssa, Sage, Daniel, Jennifer, Cedric, Lydia, Jeran, Jean, and me. I had to put another leaf in the table to accommodate those in attendance. It was a terrific repast with lots of great food, just like normal for this time of year. After the meal, we all sat around waiting for it to get dark while Sage, Cedric, and Maryssa played catch in the back yard. The ball was missed and lost 3 times in dense bushes. I found it every time because I had long pants on and I’m not afraid of spiders. The last ball went into the hay-field behind the house just about the time Lydia appeared riding Gracie, our neighbor Stacy’s horse. This is the first time Lydia has ridden the horse and it happened about 10 minutes after Stacy met Lydia. Amazing. A demonstration about first impressions and trust, I believe.

While I was diving in the hay for the last lost baseball, my friend Doug arrived at the house toting the 10×10 pop-up I took for use at the information booth. That, and the flag pole I won. How amazing is that? I won the flag pole! And a flag! Now I’ll have to go dig a hole and set it up.

Yesterday we, and our guests, rose fairly early because it was time for them to head back to Idaho. On the way, however, we all attended one of Sage’s baseball games at the University of Concordia in Portland. He was the starting pitcher and I was really looking forward to seeing him hurl the ball. His fast ball is in the 92-93 mph range and he has a wicked curve. Sadly, infield defense wasn’t up to speed in the first two innings, allowing 4 runs on two errors. The pitching was good, but the coach pulled him after two. From there it was a scoreless battle until the 6th when Sage’s team started getting hits and tied the score. In the 7^th “our” team had last at bat and held their opponents scoreless. Then the bats got busy and “we” loaded the bases with one out. Next batter, a lefty, swung at the first pitch and hit a line drive down the first base line in a spot where the first baseman had no chance to catch it. Game over, we wind 5-4. Had that hit happened in an earlier inning, it would have cleared the bases, easily.

Then we said goodbye to our Idaho guests, Sage, and, Jack and Wynette, and went home. Did I mention Jack and Wynette were there? Don’t believe I did. Well, they were and they sat directly in front of us. Jennifer and Lydia rode with us to the game.

This morning we got up earlier than usual and went to church, came home and ate 4^th of July food.

That’s about it to this point.

Oh, ya. I won one of the gift baskets, too. How about that? Also, our guests took my garage door opener home with them. A police report has been filed.

Here’s some photographic evidence of what happened …

Dealing With Adversity

Posted on April 19, 2014 by Jerrie Cate

Today we had a terrific time visiting with new friends Nickie and Mary Louise (not their real names). I call them new friends because before today they were more like “friendly people we know.” I can say that, because it’s really true, but Diane has more of a long-term connection with them. Today, however, all that changed when they visited us so Nickie could loan me his a book … “The Frozen Shoulder Workbook” by Clair Davies, NCTMB which was published in 2006. I readily admit that I have no idea what NCTMB stands for but I’m confident they mean something important because the letters are all upper case, like MD, and unlike PhD, or Dr.

Nickie brought it to me because of the problem I’ve been having with my right shoulder and he wanted to share with me the story of his own shoulder. It was a generous thing to do and, after our visit, made me understand that it’s just the way Nickie is. I mentioned that Diane has more of a connection and that’s because her parents knew Nickie’s parents. They all lived in Warren and it’s common knowledge, in Columbia County, at least, that everyone in Warren knows each other. Part of that familiarity is due to the fact that most of the older residents are related to each other.

We visited for a long time in our living room. This is a rare event for us because that’s where the big TV is and it’s almost always on when we’re home. Sitting there, visiting, each in our own comfy chair just talking, was just great, and very informative. I got Nickie’s story and it is amazing. Not only does it involve political intrigue, it’s about overcoming incredible frustration caused by terrible medical care that’s the result of government control of an insurance company that dictates required treatment in order for someone to return to work. It’s intentionally complicated, in my opinion, in order to force patients to extract themselves by the most expedient means possible.

Nickie’s journey started with a fairly simple issue with his shoulder that escalated over a few years to a complex series of medical issues. That he’s relaxed, and pretty stress-free, speaks volumes about his fortitude. During this time, Nickie was admitted to the hospital a number of times as the result of doctor visits, and also because of emergency issues. He kept his wrist bands to document this tumultuous time in his life, and attached them to a metal ring normally used for making wreaths. He ran out of room so attached more of them to a long chain.

Maybe my words aren’t very convincing, but this should be …

Amazing, right?

We talked through lunch and finally made a unanimous decision to go out and get something. Burgerville was the choice where we all got Tillamook Cheeseburgers. Have I ever told you how good those things are?

It was a very good, very informative day. At the end, I decided that the little pain I have in my shoulder isn’t really a big deal.

However, I’m still going to read “The Frozen Shoulder Workbook”.

Sempre Fi my Brothers & Sisters

Posted on April 2, 2014 by Jerrie Cate

Today we took a trip to Camp Pendleton to forage for food as we were apparently running low.

I accompanied Diane into the commissary, and followed her around for a while until she suggested that I go get a haircut. Boy did I trick her because I got every single one of them cut, not just one.

That’s a Marine haircut that I got in a Marine barber shop for $8 in 8 minutes. Maybe less. Although I retired from the Navy, and I’ve always heard about the rivalry between the two services, I’ve always considered them to be my brothers and sisters. They are all warriors and I totally respect their dedication and integrity. So, I got a haircut to honor them, and the sweater I’m wearing in the photo above has a Marine emblem on the back.

When I was done I drove carefully back to the commissary and stopped by the spot closest to the exit door and waited for that person to appear and move their car. All the people lined up behind me got a little testy, but I didn’t mind. I just put my blinker on and waited. It didn’t take more than 30 minutes or so.

Inside, it didn’t take me long to find Diane because she wore her new hat … the one she bought at Hearst Castle. I have a photo of her wearing it, somewhere, but can’t find it right now so I’ll just share this one of my right foot that I took on our way “home” from Mission Viejo …

I think it’s a very dramatic shot of an undramatic foot wearing a festive sneaker, and little fake socks. Notice how the shadow eliminates the need for anyone to be struck with awe by the skinny stick-like leg. I think I’m going to blow this one up, have it framed and give it to Diane for our anniversary. She bought the sneaker for me for this trip. She said I can have the other one when we get home. Can’t wait for that! Neither can Diane because my left sock gets really dirty and people stare at me in public.

They did that before I started wearing just one shoe, though, so that’s really not reason enough to yearn for my left shoe.

After returning from our shopping spree I made a couple of trips from the car with the food that will last us for a few days. Hopefully.

It was chilly, too chilly to sit on the beach, so Diane put on her sweat suit and sat on the deck, facing the setting sun, reading her book. Me? I stayed in the safety of our room and tried to take a nap, but Diane had the living room window wide open and I was cold. I suppose I could have put some long pants and a long-sleeved shirt on, but they were in the other room. I didn’t want to make any sudden moves that might distract Diane so I just toughed it out on the couch. I did, however, sneak into the bathroom and got my towel so I could cover up my little legs. There was a breeze blowing across my exposed elbow so I installed one of the couch pillows on top of my elbow and it helped a little. I actually nodded off for a short time. About 8 minutes, like I did at the barbershop.

After Diane finished her book she came back inside and started waiting on me, something I thought was overdue. That’s an out-and-out lie, of course. She waits on me all the time. She promised to do that the day we got married … you know …. “… love, honor, obey, and wait on …” and she hasn’t disappointed me. Fortunately, we wrote our own vows and that part wasn’t in mine. Well, it was, but I forgot to say it during the ceremony. She didn’t. Therefore, she’s really kind of obligated to cater to my every whim, even the whims I don’t remember having. I’m sure she’ll deny this, but that’s OK as long as she keeps waiting on me.

Now, having said all that, I’m going to start looking for resources on the internet so I can learn how to take care of myself. I’m sure that’s in my future, like, as early as tomorrow. Perhaps even a little later this evening unless go to bed before she reads this.

I know, I could edit all that out, but I don’t do that. Once it’s visible on my computer, it’s a done deal and I have to live with that. Like saying something really dumb in public … you just can’t take that stuff back, ya know?

I need another glass of water, and I’m going to go get it myself. For practice.

Then I’m going to quit.

A 50’s Kid

Posted on March 2, 2014 by Jerrie Cate

I grew up with two older brothers who picked on me unmercifully, all the time. Because of this I learned very early that we’re not all created equal. It was pointed out to me fairly regularly that I was different. There were obscure references as to how I was different, but the references changed so I tended to either ignore them, or I simply believed them, taking them at face value. For instance, the reason my name is Jerrie, I was told, is because I was supposed to be a girl. That actually makes sense. I can see Mom, dealing with two boys 5 and 7, praying that I would be a girl. I was OK with that. And it justified my desire to wear dresses to school once in a while.

As I grew older it became apparent to me that I’m really not all that different. It was just the normal sibling rivalry which I always won because I was the baby. I always got my way so everything was right with the world. Topping that off in later years, I learned that my older brothers were named after a pair of mules our Dad used to have. I’m sure that’s not true, but it’s a good story and explains why they were named Gee and Haw.

Having said all that, I think I turned out pretty normal, as did my brothers. All of that was made possible, I believe, because of the strength we had as a family.

During those formative years, our parents were friends with a family who visited on a regular basis. I do not know the basis of the friendship, and I’m pretty sure we weren’t related in any way, but it seems like they visited on a regular basis, even more than relatives, and we saw our relatives pretty often. Normally they showed up when it was time for lunch. Perhaps that was it. Mom was a great cook.

This family had a young boy who I think was my age and we had a great deal of fun playing whenever they visited. Many years later it was revealed to me that my friend was mentally handicapped. I didn’t notice. I just remember that we had a lot of fun and I have absolutely no recollection of him being different from me. I think about that once in a while, and wonder why that was.

A recent discussion I had with a good friend revealed the answer to me – it just wasn’t important. It just didn’t matter. We had fun and that was what mattered. I do not recall anyone in our family ever commenting on this friend’s diminished abilities. Therefore, there was no predisposition for me to think of him that way.

I’m not relating all this in an effort to point out how special I think I am because I really don’t feel that way. I’m just your average 50’s kid. There are lots of us out here running around in public, unsupervised, and I don’t think I’m all that much different from any of them.

Another part of my growing up involved my best friend, Jimmy. We went through 12 years of school together as best friends. I went on numerous camping trips with him and his family, and he went on numerous outings with me and my family. We ran around together all the time and he’s the one who taught me to dance to Rock and Roll music in the eighth grade, 1957. I have nothing except great memories of growing up with Jimmy.

After graduating from High school, we went our separate ways. I joined the Navy and he went to college, I believe, got married and had a couple of daughters. After that he declared that he was actually a gay person. What a surprise to me. All that time we spent together, for all those years, and I didn’t have a clue. Apparently he didn’t either since he got married and had a family.

I guess the point of all this is that we are who we are. Sometimes it takes a while to figure that out. The fact that life takes us, and our friends, in surprising directions isn’t, in the end, really an issue. It’s how we deal with it “in the moment”. How we do that is pretty much the result of good parenting.

That, and I wasn’t exposed to a lot of graphic detail about issues like that throughout my childhood. Maybe I was just sheltered and very naive. Maybe I was exposed to those prejudices but they weren’t significant enough to impact my behavior. Maybe it’s because our entertainment consisted of the family gathered around the radio listening to Fibber McGee and Molly, Jack Benny, The Whistler, and during Christmas, The Cinnamon Bear. Or, we stood around the piano singing while Mom played.

Who knows?

Maybe I’m really living in a matrix and all my memories are manufactured.

Whatever the reason, I’m content with them as they are. I just wish my Kids, and their Kids, could have had that same experience. But, you know? They are content in their own version of happiness, making their own memories, and they’re going to be just fine.

Arizona Shrugged

Posted on February 27, 2014 by Jerrie Cate

Yesterday I received a comment to one of my posts from a group of people who collectively call themselves “Spiritbath“. The post that got my attention was this one about a 12-year-old artist. I haven’t looked at any of the other posts, yet, but the gist of their entries are, oddly, spiritual in nature. Their posts are positive. They are uplifting. I think you will enjoy reading what they have to say.

Now you can either stop and go there, or stick around and see what’s going on in my world. I’ll tell you up front that what I’m going to enter here is far less interesting than Spiritbath. I’m guessing, of course, because I have absolutely no idea what’s going to happen here.

Throughout the day I’ve heard news reports about things I thought would be interesting to share thinking, “I’ve got to remember that to share,” but I forget. Then, when I’m compelled to sit down at my computer and do this.

So there, I’ve said it. I don’t do this because I “want” to, it’s because I’m “compelled” to do it. I’m “forced”. So, here I sit.

I was cruising around in a web site the other day that sold T-shirts with tricky sayings on them. A lot of them caught my eye but I can’t afford all of them. But, I’m going to adding to my collection as soon as I get my allowance.

Here’s a few of them …

“In my day we had 9 planets!”
Two electrons talking to each other. One says “I lost an electron.” The other responds, “Are you positive?”
“Either you like bacon, or you’re wrong”
“Home is where the wi-fi connects automatically”
“There’s a fine line between Numerator and Denominator”
“I’m not crazy – my Mother had me tested”

I could go on, but I won’t. Diane buys stuff like that for me frequently and I just wear it so I’ve kinda got a reputation amongst our friends for both doing what my wife tells me to do, without back talk, as well as wearing some pretty neat laundry. The only shirts hanging in my closet are those kinds of T-shirts. I guess it’s a theme, now.

So, I’m not going to wear anything but T-shirts from now on. That means, of course, I’ll not be allowed to leave the house ever again. Or sit on the couch without a towel under me.

Today the Governor of Arizona vetoed a proposed law that would allow businesses to use religious beliefs as a reason for denying service to customers. I’m curious about that entire mess because it’s always been my understanding that businesses can deny service to anyone for no reason at all. I’ve seen signs in all my life stating exactly that … “We reserve the right to deny service to anyone”, no reason given.

As far as I know, this ‘problem’ is the fallout from an event in Portland, Oregon where a baker refused to make a wedding cake for a gay couple. He cited religious reasons for not wanting to do it. It became a really big deal.

Most of the people I know had mixed feelings about the entire affair.

Some thought it was the baker’s right to deny the request, but perhaps not for religious reasons. He should have just said he didn’t want to do it.

Other folks wondered why the gay couple made such a big deal out of the baker’s refusal to make the cake. Why would they, for any reason, want the baker to make their cake after being told he didn’t want to make it? There are lots of bakers in town. I suppose it was all about the principle involved.

Then, about the baker, it was just a cake. Make the cake. Take the money. Let it go. What’s the big deal. So it’s got two brides, or two grooms on top. Get over it.

It’s. A. Cake.

Then some clever Arizona law-maker, a term I use loosely here, decides it would be a good law if any business could deny service to anyone based on religious beliefs. I can only guess that whoever submitted this brilliant bit of legislature isn’t getting enough attention, or that Arizona doesn’t have enough valid issues to deal with right now.

So, a little bit of unsolicited advice for everyone … if you run a business I’m betting that religious beliefs are not mentioned one time in your Statement of Purpose.

If you don’t want to sell your product to just anyone who pops through your door, post a note. Folks will think you apparently have enough money already and are just taking up store space just for fun until it’s time to retire.

If you are a customer who is denied service, in any kind of business, go somewhere else. I suspect your friends will too.

I know. That’s very simplistic, and I suspect there are a lot of other underlying issues associated with this newsworthy opportunity, but it all boils down to one baker who denied service because he doesn’t believe in gay marriages. From there it exploded into a huge problem that isn’t, I think, really a problem. In my opinion, t’s just a handy forum where loud people with an agenda see an opportunity to be heard on topics that won’t likely solve the obesity problem caused by fast food.

Oh, wait! There’re people using that as a forum, too. They’ve even sued fast food franchises for making them obese.

Perhaps Arizona should pass a law that only skinny people can eat at fast food restaurants. They could create a whole new industry for some guy in a barn who makes scales that will trigger the door locks only if a potential customer is proportional, height & weight. Those are rough numbers, of course. I can just see someone walking up to the door at Big Ed’s Giant Weiner Emporium, stepping on the scale, and the entire window next to the door lights up with the customer’s weight and height. If the ratio is correct, the door opens. If not, that’s another customer lost.

If a skinny person is deemed to be too skinny, their milk shakes could be made with Muscle Milk.

Not likely to happen, in a sane world, but who knows? Things get crazier all the time.

Cookie Ladies and Stuff

Posted on November 17, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

Today after church the Church Ladies gathered around a group of tables in the basement to have a meeting before they distributed all the cookies they had baked. Each of the 20 or so ladies gathered around the tables brought 2 dozen of them so there were lots and lots of cookies.

This is an annual event, probably not unique in the world, but meaningful for those gathered because the cookies are placed tenderly in small boxes destined for local service men and women, college students, and those who just can’t make it to church any more. Each person wraps their cookies in bundles of two to facilitate packing, and to keep them fresh. This is a time-tested method that makes packing a simple process.

The ladies know their efforts are appreciated immensely by those who receive them. It’s that little extra unexpected touch of home that lets all those folks know someone cares for them.

“It’s that time of year” seems to be the mantra around … well … this time of year, just before Thanksgiving, so many people feel it’s necessary to put forth a little extra effort to help their fellow-man. That’s a good thing, but sad, in a way, that they only feel that need when “it’s that time of year.”

Why not all the time?

Do you think those who are on the receiving end of this kind of attention would find it unacceptable at any other time of year? I seriously doubt that, as I’m sure you do, too.

This isn’t a new concept, but I’ve got to say it anyway. Let’s just pretend it’s Thanksgiving and Christmas all year long.

Let’s just be nice and giving to others all year long because it’s a good thing.

It’s the right thing.