Now is the best time to write about my beloved Boston Red Sox. They remain undefeated. Of course, they have only played two games, and today’s game was rained out. So the streak continues. As I do every April, I printed out their schedule and tacked it to the wall in my workspace, so I can keep up. Every morning from now through September, I will go to their website to see how the Sox fared the day before. I am already planning a trip to Houston in mid-June, when they’ll face the Astros. That will also require a stop at City Acre Brewing, owned by my son-in-law and daughter, for a few brews...
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I have been reading “Last Dog on the Hill: The Extraordinary Life of Lou,” by Steve Duno. Lou was a Rottweiler/German Shepherd mix that Duno found as a puppy in the wild in Southern California. A feral litter was roaming the freeway’s hillside as the dad chewed on a deer carcass — likely roadkill. The story is that the feral pack was protecting a marijuana patch. The six-month old puppy, who would become Lou, was the only one in the litter willing to approach Duno and his then-girlfriend. He was covered with fleas and ticks and stunk, of course. They took him to a veterinarian, and then...
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The drone flew about 80 feet above our heads, sounding like a swarm of irritated carpenter bees. My daughter Meredith and I were standing in an empty soccer field on a Saturday afternoon. We craned our necks upward as the drone, measuring about two feet across with the four propellers attached, darted to the right, then to the left, then rotated 180 degrees so its camera was pointed to the complex where I spend my work days.
I was operating the joysticks of the controller, seeing what the drone’s camera saw through the drone app on my brand-new iPhone. The Phantom 3 Standard was a Christmas...
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I am paying on the installment plan for my cremation: $499 down and $50 a month for the next 44 months — interest-free. My Beautiful Mystery Companion is doing the same. We decided to spare our daughters the stress of having to make funeral arrangements. And neither of us has any desire to spend thousands of dollars to be buried in a fancy box.
A nice fellow named Sal came by to make the pitch for his company. Sal looks like a Sal — pompadour combed straight back, a New York accent, nicely dressed in his late 60s but doesn’t look it. He arrived at 10 a.m. I warned him I had to leave at 11:30...
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The Texas Supreme Court met in Longview a few weeks back at LeTourneau University. It was fascinating to hear oral arguments in two civil cases, the nine justices peppering the attorneys with questions on stage in front of about 1,000 people in the Belcher Center.
The justices on the state’s highest civil courts are clearly intelligent and experienced men and women. As a newspaper publisher for more than a quarter-century, I met a number of justices as they campaigned during elections. Even if I didn’t agree with their views, I respected their legal minds. And I still do, though two decisions...
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AUSTIN — I spotted bluebonnets for the first time on March 1. It was along the Lady Bird Lake Trail, walking as a cool northern breeze swept away the mugginess of previous days. That means spring has arrived, no matter what the calendar indicates. It felt so freeing to be outside, after a few days of meetings, that I walked even longer than usual, pounding the crunchy trail for two hours. The bluebonnets were on the side of a hill that separates the trail from Cesar Chavez Street. As every fifth walker or so did, I stopped and took a cell phone photo. I have no idea why, other than to mark the advent...
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As previously discussed, we have acquired two kittens who are now about six months old. Tater and Tot are brothers in arms, or I suppose paws. Tater is the larger sibling, far more gregarious and mischievous. I named the water spray bottle “The Taterator” in his honor, since he is often on the receiving end for landing in places he should not be — such as the kitchen counter. Tot is smaller, fluffier and considerably more cautious.
We let the kitties go outside when we are home, always with an ear tuned to caterwauling. There are at least two mean — and full-sized — tomcats in the neighborhood....
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Today, Feb. 17, is my wife’s birthday, aka the Beautiful Mystery Companion. She acquired that title from my mangling of a Jackson Browne song that contains the line, “My stunning mystery companion.” I think “beautiful” works better, though Mr. Browne likely would disagree.
I am likely fonder of her birthday than she is. Here is why. Nine years ago, she reached a certain age on this date. I decline to say exactly what age, out of a strong sense of survival. Never guess a woman’s age or ask when the baby is due, unless you know for certain she is pregnant. I have made both mistakes.
Anyway,...
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My Beautiful Mystery Companion and I plan to plant a vegetable garden this year on a plot nearby that gets plenty of sunshine. Our own yard is filled with trees that make it impossible to grow even tomato plants. We have tried twice. But this plot will be perfect.
We are not planting the vegetables that now can be planted below the surface, such as onions, carrots and potatoes. We have opted for only above-ground plants — tomatoes, peppers, corn, okra, purple-hull peas and squash. That gives me a few weeks to buy some organic fertilizer and rent a tiller to break up the soil. Then it is off to the feed...
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I was talking to a fellow the other day who retired from the Made-Rite Company, which has been a sponsor of the Great Texas Balloon Race since its inception. That reminded me of the nearly two years I spent working at the soft-drink plant on Industrial Boulevard.
I finished my last semester at Longview High School by correspondence course so I could work full-time at Made-Rite and save money for college. I took night courses at Kilgore College in order to continue working full-time — newly married and on our own financially. That is the way I wanted it.
In 1973, Made-Rite still bottled...
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