Confessions of a Sports Hoarder

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Ambien Online Ordering “This is way more junk than I expected.” 

see url That was my thought as I stared at the boxes piled high in my garage.  Clearing out my house in preparation for a move, made me come face to face with the harsh reality of just how many things I actually own. 

https://killmigraine.com/about-us/ There were several items that flat out needed to be trashed, while many others made for great garage sale material.  However, there were a couple enormous boxes I didn’t even think about tossing, donating, or selling.  These were the special boxes, the “don’t you even think about throwing that stuff away” boxes.  Those squares of cardboard contained all of my sports tokens, souvenirs, apparel, memorabilia, and mementos. 

A shoebox full of media credentials from my days in TV, everything from bass tournaments to college basketball to arena football.

https://mydentistwebsite.com/services/ I wouldn’t call it a collection.  It’s more of a random gathering with absolutely no rhyme or reason.  There are the obvious items like the jerseys and the posters.  There are the things which take me back to my childhood like the football cards, the action figures of my favorite players, and the stickers I used to put on my closet door.  And then…well, then there’s the other stuff.  I don’t know why I have this stuff, but I don’t want to get rid of it either.  I have a souvenir baseball from the Class A Clearwater (Florida) Threshers.  Long story, don’t ask.  There is a single golf ball commemorating the 10th anniversary of Texas Motor Speedway.  I’ve never been to Texas Motor Speedway, never teed it up, don’t need it, but kind of like it.  And speaking of worthless, look no further than the 2007 Indiana Football Media Guide.  I picked that up at the Insight Bowl a few years back when the Hoosiers faced Oklahoma State.  Haven’t looked at it once, not quite ready to chuck it.

I acknowledge that I have a problem, but I also feel like these things tell my own personal sports history.  They are the fabric of what makes me a fan.  I don’t know if you can put a price on that.  All my stuff is worth a couple hundred bucks, tops.  In other words, its junk.  But there’s a difference between junk and stuff I have a connection with.

A $3 racket turned into a little piece of family history.

Take for example, the old wooden racket I picked up at a thrift store.  When I showed it to my dad, he told me it was the exact frame he played with when he was in high school.  Now I’ll never look at that racket the same way.  For three bucks I got myself a reminder of my father, the man who got me started playing the game I love so much.

Unpacking the boxes, I stumbled across a dozen different Dallas Cowboys’ hats.  They were dirty, sweat stained, and beautiful.  As a young Cowboys fan, I would watch every game with several hats at my disposal.  If my ‘Boys weren’t performing well, obviously the hat wasn’t performing well, and so a change needed to be made.  This hat rotation went on for years and I’m so glad I still have every single one.  Maybe I can pass them on to my son one day, and tell him about the tradition as we suffer through Cowboys games together. 

Hats from the 2007 PGA Championship at Southern Hills in Tulsa. Do I need three almost identical hats? Probably not. Will I get rid of one? Definitely not.

My girlfriend doesn’t understand this obsession.  My mom really wishes I’d stop using my old closet as a long distance storage space.  They don’t get it, but they don’t have to get it.  I need these things to feel at home, to feel like myself.  I like to walk into my apartment and be surrounded by my stuff.  Maybe it’s wrong, shallow, superficial, and psychologically weird, but my stuff is me.  The pennants, the pucks, the sweatshirts that don’t fit anymore, it’s all me.  The golf club head covers, the stained coasters, and those stadium cups you get with your nine dollar soda (I’ve got six), all me as well.

A reminder of a trip to Wrigley, one of the coldest nights of my life watching Kerry Wood throw a 4-hit shutout of my Redbirds.

I’ve got the ticket stub from every sporting event I’ve ever attended.  I’ve saved countless issues of Sports Illustrated, and cut out newspaper headlines from some of my most memorable sports moments.  The one that stands out is from the front page of the Calgary Sun on June 6th, 2004.  It’s a picture from game 6 of the Stanley Cup Finals with my beloved Calgary Flames and the Tampa Bay Lightning.  The photo shows the puck resting on the goal line as two Flames’ players crash the net.  I was in Calgary that day, ready to erupt with the rest of the city.  My brother and I promised each other we’d find a way to make it to Calgary if the Flames had a chance to win the Cup on home ice.  Tickets were too expensive, but we settled into a sports bar, just two anonymous fans in the “C” of red.  The puck didn’t go in.  Tampa Bay won the game in double overtime, and won the Cup in game 7 two days later.  I’ll never forget walking the streets of Calgary with my brother, consoling complete strangers, and reliving every moment of that game.  The headline reads, “THAT CLOSE.” Funny how a piece of paper can connect me to one of the best and worst sports memories of my life. 

Looking at this is a form of self-torture, but also a reminder of my brother and the greatest spur-of-the-moment sports trip ever taken.

I don’t have the space right now, but maybe one day I’ll realize the dream of displaying all my stuff in one big room of my house.  It will be like my own personal sports bar, the man cave of all man caves.  Until then, I will continue to search, clip, buy, and yes, save this stuff. 

I want to know I’m not alone.  Please tell me about your weird sports collection, or that one item that means the world to you, but very little to anyone else.  Leave a comment, tell me your stories, or just tell me about something cool you stumbled across at an estate sale.  Make me feel better about myself, don’t let me think I’m the only sports hoarder out there.

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Friday Morning Shout Out: Dusty Gilpin, Tree and Leaf, and the Evolution of TRUDust

Sometimes who you are is carved by Time on your heart.  Sometimes on your letterhead, the wallpaper on your computer, or in how you dress.  At least part of Dusty Gilpin’s identity is “carved” on his forearm in the shape of a tattoo; his last name etched into more than just skin by his history as a third generation artist.  Also known as TRUDust, he’s been around town quite a bit lately and is leaving his artistic fingerprint on the culture of Oklahoma City.  Here are just a few impressions…

Ink, before color was added.
K-N-M. Spraypaint, serigraphy, wood and plexiglass - All three photos from Dusty's Facebook Art Portfolio Page.

Co-owner of Tree & Leaf Clothing, Dusty and the rest of their team have been on their own, growing their business for about five years.  You can follow him on Twitter, check the local papers or culture scene for his next spray-paint gig, or serendipitously notice one of their t-shirts being worn by a local somewhere on the street.

However it is that you run across Dusty and his work, you can be certain there’s more to come.  After all, he’s just begun his third generation influence on Oklahoma…who knows what’s in store from TRUDust around the corner of the art world?  Or for that matter, life in Red Dirt Country?  Congratulations to you Dusty, for what you’ve accomplished thus far. Congrats to the Tree & Leaf Clothing team.  And, best wishes as you continue to carve your name, and that of what’s around you or how it influences you, on our Oklahoma hearts.

Dusty Gilpin, AKA TRUDust.

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Forest, Trees. Clouds, Crystals. A Micro-Macro Meditation.

Monday afternoon I was sitting in the window seat of a plane flying toward Minneapolis.  During take off preparations, some of the shiny chrome trim on the tarmac equipment caught a reflective beam of sunlight and sent it directly into my eye; so, I had shut the window cover.   But now I was curious.  I wanted to see the view, to look around and say hello to the sky.

 

Ice crystals. Some of them looked like tiny caterpillars or stands of mitochondria.

 

When I lifted the plastic shade I was met with a view of tiny ice crystals that had been forming on the outside of my window.  I examined them and looked for purpose or replication in their pattern.  I thought about Minnesota and wondered if the quilted jacket I had with me was enough to keep the cold air at bay.  My thoughts turned toward the conference.  It had been a long day, so I reached up to once again close the shade and try to nap.  I had been up since 4 a.m. and had a long night of preparations still in front of me.

Just as my arm started the downward motion to close the shade, something caught my eye.  I stopped and took in the “skyscape” moment,  visually tracking the long blanket of cloud cover beneath the plane all the way to the horizon.  I’ve seen the clouds before, but I almost missed them this time.

 

Oh, HEY clouds. Good to see you!

I had allowed what was right in front of my eyes to be all that I considered.  I then wondered, who had I done that same thing to today? Yesterday? This week?  So my hope for you today is:

 

Remember to also step back, take in the whole person, and enjoy or consider their sum.  After all, their whole being is always so much more than the sum of their individual parts.

Happy skyscaping,

Red Dirt Kelly

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Chicken and Wild Rice Casserole, Lots of Food and Easy to Make

Editor’s Note – Okay, everyone…this post is from Jani, Whitni’s mother.  Recall that we kicked off our Stockyards City Cookbook Cook-Through last week.  Here’s their second entry!

***

I would like to begin by saying that after reading her first post I think my daughter, Whitni, has shown me up!  Unfortunately there will not be a slide show with my post.  I’m not even sure I know how to do that.  Maybe if I am really nice she will teach me how to set up a slide show when she is home for Thanksgiving.

I looked through the Stockyards City Centennial Cookbook several times before I chose my first recipe. I ended up picking Natalie Browne’s recipe for Chicken and Wild Rice     Casserole.  I did make one omission to the original recipe, the mushrooms.  We are not much on mushrooms at our house.  In fact when I asked my husband if he wanted me to put the mushrooms in he said he only wanted mushrooms ‘…if they would give him hallucinations,’ – such a kidder!!

The recipe was very easy to make and the ingredients were easily found.  For our family of three (my husband, our 17 yr. old son, and myself) there was plenty of food.  In fact, we only ate half of the casserole and that was with everyone having seconds.  Which means leftovers will come in handy for dinner another night when we have had a hectic day (translates to: Jani doesn’t want to cook) .  Oh wait, my family doesn’t eat leftovers! Well, maybe if you decide to prepare this for your family there will be enough to keep you out of the kitchen an extra day.

We had green beans, salad, and rolls with the Chicken and Wild Rice Casserole.  I loved the fact that the recipe calls for rotisserie chicken, this saved a tremendous amount of time.  I will definitely make this casserole again.

https://drjamieturndorf.com/couples-counseling-and-therapy/ Chicken and Wild Rice Casserole
from Natalie Browne
1 box Uncle Ben’s Wild Rice Mix (fast recipe)
1 (8oz) sour cream;  1/4 C Italian dressing
1 pkg. sliced mushrooms
1 rotisserie chicken
1 sm pkg sharp cheddar cheese
1 can chicken broth

Shred chicken meat.  Cook rice in chicken broth, last 5 minutes add mushrooms.  Mix chicken, rice, sour cream and Italian dressing together.  Put in a greased 9×13 inch pan. Sprinkle cheese on top.  Cook in a 350 degree oven for 30 minutes or until bubbly.

The only other change I made to the recipe was I used mild cheddar cheese instead of sharp.  For the cheese I bought a 2 cup package of finely shredded cheese and did not use all of it.

If you are looking for an easy dinner this one fits the bill.  I think you could even make this ahead of time, freeze or refrigerate, and pop it in the oven when you get home from work.

Happy Cooking,
Jani

Chicken and Wild Rice Casserole - easy, lots of food and tasty!

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Dear Sweetheart: 25 Years of Married Life Lessons for My Engaged Daughter

My daughter at six weeks old. Spring, 1987.

Dear Sweetheart,

On the day you were born I looked down into your tiny pappoose face, your three inches of thick black hair pointing every direction possible within a 180 degree range, and thought about you on your wedding day.  Who would you be? What would you look like? Who might you marry? How would you meet him? What would he see in you that would make him fall in love?  What would make you know that he was the one?

I had these thoughts because your dad was holding you, and when I watched him get up to walk you around the hospital room, he and I had only been married for one year and nine months.  We were still newlyweds ourselves.  But we’ve recently celebrated our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary and we have changed a great deal over that quarter-century.  A friend used to say, “I’ve been married to seven different men during my lifetime, and all of them were the same person.”  Well, I think your dad and I are at least on person number three or four in our own marriage.

However, you and he are on your first. So I thought I’d share in the best way I can my memories, thoughts, lessons and wisdom from our marriage for your upcoming life together.  This is all I’ve got, sweetheart, except the fact that we’ll be there if you two need us along your own journey together.

https://oregonsurgicalwellness.com/lymphedema-prevention/ Years one and two

At this present point in my life, all I can conjure up in my head from our first year together is that we did a lot of running around, said “We’re married!” quite a bit, wrote lots of thank you notes for the gifts we’re STILL using, and learned quite a bit about each other’s families.  By the way, if you get a few things you could stand to go without, I recommend trading them in for one good set of culinary knives.  You’ll use them every day.

I think we also had to work out the “self-imposed weirdness” regarding the unspoken assumption that we were having sex.  Seriously, the first time we went to the lake with your Roberts’ grandparents and spent the night in one bedroom together, we couldn’t even look people in the face at breakfast the next morning. Not that anything happened; I feel quite certain I wore three extra layers of clothing during that trip and felt mortified that your dad’s family was walking around in their robes drinking coffee and reading the paper.  We were shy, awkward, and probably were much more uncomfortable than anyone else at the cabin.  So, perhaps the lesson from year one is: Enjoy the newly wed high, and work out the weirdness…as best you can.  We’ve already talked about the essential premarital preparation, so I won’t harp on that.  You’ve made your appointments, right?!

Purchase Valium Online Years three through five

For us, these were our hardest years.  Your father began working nights six months after we got married – stressor #1.  I began a sales and marketing job with a good deal of travel-related requirements – stressor #2.  We had you – blessing, but in reality the addition of children to a family are also stressors, #3.  We internalized our feelings, didn’t communicate, began distancing from each other and really considered splitting up, results of stressors #s 1-3, plus we didn’t know how to handle conflict or much of what it took to manage distance and conflicting schedules – stressors #s…well, a whole bunch of them. https://calciumhealth.com/about-us/ But, our friends, our family, our leaders at work, and a therapist didn’t give up on us when we were giving up on ourselves.

So what’s the lesson from us to you for years 3-5?  Use your support system, ask for help or get it if you need it, and when you find yourself turning inward – then that’s the key time to begin reaching out to each other.

https://www.thefwpc.org/contact/ Years six through fifteen

These were our regrouping years, our managing years, our family life years, and our time together where we really began to learn how to be a family.  We got involved in your school, we had your sister, we downsized to a smaller house so I could spend more time with you and your sister (among other reasons)…in a sense, we started our second marriage.  We began learning how to parent, how to co-parent, how to trust each other better and how to manage all the responsibilities that came with a young family.  In other words, we were getting to the place that I wish we had been in years 3-5, but it just didn’t happen that way.

What’s the lesson here? Well, mostly it’s that if you begin a family, you will always be considering your actions, your goals and your decisions based upon not just you, or even the “us” in your marriage, but the “we” as an entire family.  You may give a little more than you expected at this point in your life, but the entire family gains.  We were worn out, broke, and sometimes at our wits’ end with parenting demands, but those were really, really good years.

go site Years fifteen through twenty

At some point in your family life, there will be a juncture where you don’t have to drag around baby paraphernalia, you’ll be able to sit down and eat entire dinners together as a family and enjoy the conversation with everyone there…you’ll be able to sit back and take a breath as a parent.  This was during years 15-20 for us.

Wow, it took a great deal of energy to get there, but – wow again, it was such a good feeling to be able to allow you and your sister to:  Go to your friends’ houses and spend the night, take a short vacation with just Mick and I, and allow you to drive to places we had always shuttled you to before this time. You became more autonomous, and we began enjoying that change.

The lesson?  I hate to write this phrase because it has sort of been captured by the bullying community now, but it holds true in marriages as well… “it gets better.”  When you pour your love, your energy and all you have together into child rearing, family development and professional development – eventually, it DOES get better.  To have enough money to eat dinner out occasionally, to sit back and watch you and your sis go to prom and then to college – – what a rewarding and blessed time those years were for us!

https://www.admoday.com/music-from-songbyrd/ Years twenty through twenty-five

I think of these years as the time where your dad and I got to shift a few resources from you and sis and begin redeveloping ourselves.  Your father began to really enjoy golf again, he began to get tickets to sporting events and take a few trips with men from church.  I went back to school and began really working at my career in a more in-depth way than before.  I’ve worked on developing a few ideas I’ve always wanted to do.  In other words, we got to help you begin your own journey, then begin enhancing our own.

The lesson of this time in our life?  I think for one thing, you WILL be able to change your role as parenting/overseer to parent/mentor and encourager.  You’ll be able to sit back and offer guidance to your children when they ask, but enjoy watching them manage their own lives as they can.  You’ll be able to rediscover the desires of your own heart and take more than two or three-day vacations with your husband.  And, you’ll be able to go to dinner with your children – oh, say – at a restaurant in south Oklahoma City, where they tell you, “Mams, Paps…we’re getting married.”  And, you’ll be able to celebrate with them, because you’ll know they are as ready as they can be at this special time in their life.

Dear sweetheart – when you and your fiancée are in the middle of a stressful time somewhere in your future life, just let us or his parents know…and we’ll do our best to help you get through the wrinkle.  The main point of this letter, though, is that you CAN.  There will be struggles, you can get through them, and to have a husband you can grow with over the next twenty-five years and beyond…well, it’s a blessing that I could never had comprehended.

Your dad and I love you very much, sweetheart, and we love your chosen man too.  May your first twenty-five years together be all you could hope, and may our Lord richly bless you and he over the next few months as you get ready to begin your life together.

All my very best….Mams

My daugheter at six months old. Fall, 1987.
My daughter and her boyfriend goofing around at the movie theatre, in Spring 2007. They had been dating about 3 years or so at this point.

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