Random thoughts from today.

• Had an interesting dinner today with two people in their late 40's who are "retired." Turns out both guys are ex-baseball players. Both seem to be in a good place and have done the right things with their money. Now, they play for "fun" in a league that the minimum age is 33. BIG egos still in play and of course they get paid appearance fees for each game in the ball park (no pun intended) of about $4k-$5K per game. Seems to be a nice amount for old ball players who can still play - just not with the 20 years olds anymore. Funny how the 45 year old pitcher was complaining about how it isn't "fair" to play against the 33 year old "kids."
• Brinks Security ads still piss me off. NEVER is the criminal non-white. Find one on TV and let me know. Like, NO homes are broken into by a black dude or a Mexican?
  
• "Jobs Saved" isn't measurable. Why does this POTUS still talk with us on TV like we are all morons? How come unemployment is over 10% if he has saved even ONE fricken job? Incompetent or just lying to me?
  
• Why do people in parking lots walk in the middle of the lot like moving cars don't exist? Get TF outta my way and be damn glad I saw you and you can give me that "look" like you are supposed to be where cars drive.
• Making work pay? Please! Now, I owe the IRS money back from my "refund" from this spring as promised from the POTUS? Screw that. Keep your hand outta my family's wallet, thank you.
  

And the WINNER is...

And the winner is….

I am watching the CMA awards tonight while in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Wow, what a flood of memories about wonderful times I have been blessed with over the last 20+ years, with the love of my life.

I just watched Reba McIntire sing a song live….about “if I’m not the “one” or the “magical moment” etc of your life, then you can consider me “gone.”

As I listened, my heart swelled, tears came to my eyes and I watched Reba again sing about what I have in my life. Isn’t what you want is what songs are made of – what “other” couples have, or what you think “love” is? How does this happen and why did it happen to me?

Lunch time in the spring of 1990 was short. I was a salesman and if I didn’t get the order, money didn’t come home. About this time I knew a woman who was looking for happiness and… wasn’t. The love in my heart was going to change that woman. The love in my heart wanted so much and had so much to offer – if only “she” would look for the offer.

This woman had her lunch break about 12:45 and could be at her home at 1:00 every day. My schedule was crazy but I made a point to meet her for a sandwich, soup, crackers, or whatever we could put together for that one, special hour of the day at her house as often as I could. ABC at 1:00 was “One life to live” and we watched it together that spring – imaging a life together just like on TV. Two people going through life every day, yet missing so much.

Funny how having some tomato soup and crackers while watching a soap can make you feel like one of the characters on TV. I would watch the show while this woman next to me would melt into one of the women on the show; longing for the love they “have” and so wishing that she could feel “it, “ too. How much it hurt to watch her want “that” and knowing that I HAD what she wanted and so desperately needed! Life gets in the way of living - I found out those couple of years prior to this cup of soup on her couch. I was going to change that. I did.

Those lunches gave us time to get away from work, but more importantly gave two people time together to figure out what we needed. Not only what we needed from that day, or that month, but ultimately from each other. When the grind of “going to work” seemed like such a drag at 7:30 or 8:00, I could already imagine the joy when turning down her street, hoping to see her car for lunch – I can still feel my pulse race when she would be there before me. And, I can still remember the disappointment I felt if she didn’t or couldn’t show up that day to meet me.

Well, those lunches went way too fast and that spring dragged along with both of us living the wrong life – for each of us. As our precious time together seemed to be…ever so more important it became clear that I would have to DO something. I did.

I bought two tickets to see Reba McIntire in Tulsa, Oklahoma on June 1^st, 1990.

Keep in mind that I was married at the time to the best ex-wife I have ever had. Going on a week-end trip with a woman, not your wife was going to be tricky. I knew that me and this woman would spend THE most wonderful week-end that two people have ever had in the history of the world that first week-end in June. So, I put together a “hunting trip” with a buddy of mine who also thought he might enjoy seeing Reba in the company of another woman and join us for a road trip to Tulsa. So, four tickets were purchased to see Garth Brooks and Reba McIntire for that Saturday and we were off to the rodeo.

The whole week leading up to the “hunting trip” was incredible. You think it was hard waiting for Santa to show up on Christmas when you were six years old? This was worse. I bought the tickets about six weeks in advance to go hunting and when that special week came around I was just waiting for something, anything, to go wrong and ruin the most wonderful trip ever planned by anyone, ever. Ever try to explain a “hunting trip” for June? Well, try it. I told you I was a salesman, so trust me it was the second best sale I ever made – that week-end pass.

The four of us made the trip Friday after work, and had a two room suite at some “swanky” Tulsa hotel like the Residence Inn or something. Friday night was magical. I had fallen in love with this woman and for the first time EVER I was able to fall asleep with her in my arms. I woke up on Saturday morning and felt like I was the king of the world and had everything I had ever dreamed of! As I watched her sleep in the early morning sunshine I couldn’t believe that I really was awake.

That morning changed my life. I knew that when I drove back from Oklahoma that my life was changed forever.

How strange that here I am back in Tulsa, Oklahoma after 19 years – that once again Reba is singing my life story?

The story of one very lucky man - and one incredible woman. I am truly blessed, indeed to have found such love in just one woman, my Betty. So, as far as I am concerned tonight’s winner - and every night’s winner, is the one guy who misses his wife tonight, again.

Burgers, Beers and Cassette Tapes

Burgers, beers and cassette tapes

The day I woke up on the right side of the bed, I knew then that I had made the right decision – to be on the side of the right bed. Betty’s bed.

Looking over to see a woman I had spent so much time thinking about within reach somehow seemed unreal, and yet it was real. More than months of wondering, thinking, and hoping that somehow I could make this happen, had happened. She said yes, and now had a new roommate. Well, that plus another cat who made the near midnight trip over to the Betty’s house on June 4th, 1990.

She told me that she wanted me to be with her. She told me that she wanted me to be with her again. I told her that I would go home that night after work, get my stuff, the cat and the cat box and we would see if her cat would get along with mine. Well, they didn’t- and that was about the last thing a guy needs on his hand, is two cats fighting, one woman crying and another woman being the reason. How do you make that decision?

Well, I fell in love is how.

Maybe it was that time on a particular spring holiday that we drove out to Silverlake park on Lake Grapevine during the day with a bucket of ice and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. We parked her car and talked – for hours. Maybe it was that time that we drove out to that lake in Irving by the power plant before they closed it. We found a quiet little picnic table and had the radio on her Geo Storm playing one of the cassette tapes of Alan Jackson or Reba – both our favorites during that time of our lives. We wore out that Reba tape; the one with New Fool At An Old Game on it. Over and over we would play that song. If I hear that song today – immediately I can picture my Betty walking across the office in that white dress, you know the one. Maybe it was at that lake.

Maybe it was that time at the Cowboy saloon off of NW Highway in Dallas near loop 12. We would meet up after work for more than a couple of cold beers and talk until one of us was really late getting “home.” I remember that the place would get so smoke filled my eyes would burn. Betty would prop open the front door with that chair with cigarette holes in the fine plastic seat, and go stand by the back door and hold it open to get some air to go through there. I could see the light coming in from behind her, shining through her hair and watch the wind blow her dress against her skin. Maybe it was at that bar.

Or, could it have been those Friday long lunches at Club Schmitz in Dallas on Harry Hines. At least once a month we would meet up there as the lunch crowd was leaving so we could get a booth. I always got a kick (and still do) how she would look at the same menu every time like this place from the 50’s might add a new item on it. The Betty would get her hamburger basket, no pickles and no onions and a bottle of Coors light – every time, and still does. We would put a couple of dollars in the juke box and play our Reba song and then after about three more beers later she would decide that it was too late to go back to the office anyway. Maybe that old burger place did it.

Over some period of time, I got into a habit of going over to the Betty’s house on Monday’s after work. We would sit out in her back yard with her dog Shadow and again talk for hours. I know that we had lots to talk about, with the situation that was developing with both of our lives at the time. Funny - how things can be worked out with some time alone, when both people care about and respect one another. I looked forward to Monday mornings and going to work because I knew that at the end of the day I would end up in Betty’s arms after some problem solving on the back porch. Maybe it was the rocking chair she sat in while we listened to those cassette tapes. We would take turns getting up to refill our glass, get another beer and turn the tape over, and over, and over.

So, I guess that’s how me and the Betty figured out how to make this new life work. Even though we did have an ex-husband that was still around, a mad soon-to-be-ex wife, a dog, and two cats that don’t get along – we did have our Reba tape and each other.

What else could you need, really – but to wake up on the right side of the bed with so much to look forward to?

Party Plaza Maggots

Once again we have experienced the EGO of Jerry Jones being put ahead of his PAYING fans and his own football team.

Besides the fact that the Cowboys lost the game, the worst part of the day was the Plaza Maggots throughout the area. We, the Season Ticket Holders and PSL holders were completely ignored while JJ concentrated on his image of all things BIG. Those "fans" who only purchased the "party pass" were out of control, in the way, and a general nuisance to all of us who spent WAY too much money to enjoy the "game day experience."

What we did see was the Plaza Maggots crowded outside -locked out of the building and using trash cans for urinals since JJ didn't let them in, OR even provide port-a-jerrys for them to use outside. We had to push and fight our way through the PMs to find our personal entrance to the building. As we were making our way through the crowd, they opened the doors and people were PUSHING, RUSHING, and knocking people down to get in! We were very lucky not to be injured during this time.

If we had ANY idea that JJ was going to have the standing room only areas right BEHIND our seats there is NO WAY we would have bought a PSL, much less attend games in the new stadium.

I won't even address the issue of parking and traffic at this time but suffice it to say it was no better than the outcome of the game for us fighting our way through the plaza maggots all evening.

I'm sure that our own players would have preferred to have the place closed up in the 90 degree heat too. I heard our own Jason Witten say he had to have an I.V. during half time. It was clear our defense was completely gassed in the fourth quarter when we needed them most. But, at least Jerry got what he wanted - prime viewing on youtube picking a winner!

Pitiful.

and she is there.

And she is there


Night fall on Sunday has my mind wandering about the week ahead,
knowing that this night together is our last for a while.
Even though my thoughts are a day or two ahead,
It is nice to reach over, and find that she is there.

The time zooms by as I am busy working with lots of people,
but then the day ends and it seems that I am far away again.
Strangers make a nice way to pass the time each evening,
But nothing like picking up the phone, and she is there.

During most days I have so many things to do and say,
it is during times like this that I hardly know that I’m away.
Of course there are some bright spots that can occur,
one is when opening my email to see that she is there.

Long days sometime seem to drag on with no end in sight.
Day after day – turning into night after night.
The one beautiful thing that I can always count on
is when lights are out and I close my eyes, she is there.

It is Friday morning and then the work day is wrapping up,
with another trip to rental return, then the nearest airport.
The best part of seeing the DFW area on final approach,
is when I walk out to curb-side to find my best friend is there.

Am I nervous again or am I trying too hard this time?
I have really missed her and want this to be special.
let me enjoy this time together when we are so close,
My special love, my heart beats with hers – as she is there.

Five Nights

A lot can happen in five nights. Just when things get back to normal – you know, forks and knives pointing down in the dishwasher, all rolls of toilet paper in the house installed correctly – over the top, of course and the garage door is closed all the way down; I’m back in the Exit Row again.

I’m not saying that these things are all that important in the way our house is run on a daily basis. That is just the way I like things to be. I mean it is OK with the Betty if no matter which way she is facing, “that is north.” It works for her just like her map – north is always straight away. Me, I kind of like knowing where north really is. I need to actually get there on time. I don’t do late.

So, tonight I am on the plane again – only this night is Sunday night. Hey, not my plan; but the boss who just loves Friday afternoon conference calls decided that I need to be in Los Angeles on Monday morning for an 8:00 meeting, so here I am heading north to California. I just know that by Tuesday the paper in the master bath will be rolling from under and there will be a dinner fork pointing up mocking my absence. Betty says, “what’s the difference if they all go in the dishwasher?” I guess she is right since she was the one doing the dishes – it’s just when I start bleeding when I unload it that her system presents a problem.

Last week I am at the hotel and go to get my socks and sneakers to get my walk in for the day – and the two white socks don’t match that were paired together. So, what’s the big deal – who will know, right? Well, I know and the whole time I’m on the treadmill I’m thinking, “where are the other two socks? Are they also together like these two, or will I go home to a whole lot of white socks paired at random?” I mean to tell ya, when I take my socks off I don’t just rip ‘em off and let ‘em get inside-out; no siree! I know how I hate to turn the socks back correctly when I do the folding, so I take care not to just toss ‘em in there all wrong side out! Once I casually mentioned that my socks were wrong to Betty and I got about as much sympathy as she would give me if I was floating in the pool and told her my ice was melting too fast. So, when this happened again last week as I was unpacking I went over to look at my sock drawer to find the other lonesome pair of mismatched socks. Betty looks at me, like “what ARE you doing?” I explain my socks were mismatched this week and without missing a beat, “I’ll tell the maid,” she says. (We don’t have a maid.) I wasn’t planning on saying a WORD, I swear! I just didn’t want to end up in Cal-E-FORNia with any mismatched socks. They have laws against that out there, I’m told.

I’m afraid that my next couple of weeks will give the B way too much time around the house alone – my stuff is sure to get moved around. I think she does it on purpose, too. You know, “oh, I thought you didn’t want that old copy of the SuperBowl program anymore. It was so old, anyway.” Things get too neat around our house when I get past three nights out – in a row. I’ve got five this week – and three more next week. That’s eight outta 14- I might come home and be down to one car in the garage. “Well, you weren’t using it.” I could almost hear her say it now. I had better hurry up and head straight home – north to Texas.

Cap and Trade SCAM coming soon.

The Democrats are working out the details of a massive wealth redistribution bill, all in the name of climate change. This is the liberal nirvana. You take a naturally recurring climatological phenomena and use scare tactics to stampede the great unwashed into supporting your tax and spend schemes. The looter's plan to limit greenhouse gases are not in the name of sound environmental science but in the name of more government. The Democrats want to use something known as "cap-and-trade" to lower naturally occurring emissions by 17% by 2020 and 83% by 2050.

The looters know that this is going to be expensive. So in order to offset the soaring energy costs associated with this plan ... which we will get to in a minute ... they want to create a system where the government would issue pollution allowances. These permits would then be traded in a government-designed marketplace.

Besides this artificial market, created entirely by government for government, cap-and-trade promises to cripple our economy. The Heritage Foundation has done an analysis of how this Waxman-Markey bill would affect our economy by 2035. Now 2035 might sound like a long way off .. but a child you have today will only be around 26 years ago and just starting to raise a family when that time comes. Here are their findings. Waxman's "environmental" bill would:

* Reduce aggregate gross domestic product (GDP) by $9.6 trillion
* Destroy 1,105,000 jobs on average, with peak years seeing unemployment rise by over 2,479,000 jobs
* Raise electricity rates 90 percent after adjusting for inflation
* Raise inflation-adjusted gasoline prices by 74 percent
* Raise residential natural gas prices by 55 percent
* Raise an average family's annual energy bill by $1,500
* Increase inflation-adjusted federal debt by 26 percent, or $29,150 additional federal debt per person, again after adjusting for inflation.

I will guarantee you, folks, that the government already has plans to make sure that low-income Americans will not pay a dime in increased energy costs. This will be just another notch on the entitlement belt.