My Little Victory Garden: “Potpourri for 200, Alex”

 

Last week I had a mid-recipe creation crisis. It happened in the kitchen and I decided that rather than write an entire entry about how many fails I experienced while trying to braise short-ribs with Oklahoma Sandhill Plums, I would just avoid the topic altogether.  Seriously, I was beginning to think that my recipe creation was the reincarnation of Groundhog Day, and that redemption in my life would only happen if I finally pulled out the perfect center of the plate post.

Then I started thinking about this rant I went on two years ago in my little research world.  One of my colleagues from a university in the northwestern U.S. was really down during one of our professional conferences and I asked him about his glum face.  He stated that he had devoted approximately three years and lots of money toward an on-line relationship education program only to find out there were no effects (no statistically significant findings).  So I asked him, “Why don’t you share THAT information?  Don’t you think the fails are as important as the wins?”  Then he said, “No research journal publishes ‘fails.'”  Maybe I embedded that little downer-nugget into my subconscious last week?

But hey – THIS isn’t a research journal, right? It’s a blog about my garden and by golly, I’m going to publish the fails! Continue reading My Little Victory Garden: “Potpourri for 200, Alex”

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“Breaking Down” the Eisenhower Interstate Highway System

The I-40 “Crosstown.”    Almost every Central Oklahoman has heard about it, not because of where it goes (across town, duh) but what it is doing.  And that what is falling apart.   Before we get into that, let’s go over some history.

The recent family vacation took the Bings through middle America and the Deep South, mostly courtesy of the interstate highways that crisscross our great land.   We are all familiar with those little blue shield signs, each bearing the trademark large white font number, and a distinctive “East,” “West,” “North,” or “South.”    I heard about the origins of the system that slightly predated my mid 1960’s initial existence and the man who signed them into being, but I had never seen it promoted on location.    But, as our trip brought us closer to home after about 1,500 miles of sojourning, I saw it at the entrance to a beautiful southern rest stop deep into Mississippi:  “Eisenhower Interstate System”.

According to our informative friends at http___www.bigleaguekickball.com_category_press_ buy online pharmacy soma Wikipedia, “The Interstate Highway System was authorized by the Federal-Aid Highway Act of 1956. The opening of Interstate 70 in Colorado through Glenwood Canyon in 1992 is often cited as the completion of the originally planned system The initial cost estimate for the system was $25 billion over 12 years; it ended up costing $114 billion (adjusted for inflation, $425 billion in 2006 dollars).”

I don’t know about you, but I find both $114 billion and $425 billion to be large sums of money. And yet, it is not enough.

Continue reading “Breaking Down” the Eisenhower Interstate Highway System

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Meanwhile, Back at The Ranch: Bye, Bye,…..BUY (our goats)




Trailer
This trailer contains years of work, frustration, and joy, but it is time for these guys to go.

This week eleven goats waited patiently in two horse stalls to be hauled to the livestock auction while another family of three cruised the pasture.  We spent last week trying to catch them all and get them contained in one place eventually building a chute to guide them into the barn.

Three to go.

No wait.  What’s that?  Remember that big, mean brown goat that I managed to capture by the horns and guide into a stall?  The one that I eventually let out because he was crying?  I saw it walking down the fence row.  Wait.  And there’s another. And another.  I stepped up to the window and saw one of the barn doors on the ground.  Seven goats had escaped!

It was Thursday night.  The auction was Friday night.  We had work to do.  I can not put down the details of the three hours, but I am sure that any divorce court judge would side with me if I filed for divorce over the goat herding debacle.  However, after the long, humid evening, we had twelve goats locked in one horse stall.  The two that still eluded us were the twins, Susan and Elizabeth.  Their mother was with the other eleven, so we hoped they would come up to the barn on their own.  It didn’t happen.

Goats in Trailer
The goats receive number tags in the trailer before they are released.

Finally, auction night had arrived.  Continue reading Meanwhile, Back at The Ranch: Bye, Bye,…..BUY (our goats)

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Barbershop Theology: First Haircut




Because I want to be a responsible citizen and give careful note regarding the topic, I’ll submit this preface. Alcohol abuse is bad.  Drunkenness is bad.  In fact, I would go further and say the only kind of indulgence I have ever seen that isn’t bad is the love of God.

The following recollection is one of my favorite and clearest memories, and for no good reason. I think I just chalk it up to the unique experience a kid could have 40 or 50 years ago. It’s also a tribute to all the other lessons unremembered in the people business.

The Barber’s Son and Shoe Shine Boy

As I have been remembering and writing about the hours I spend in my dad’s barbershop, it has finally dawned on me that what seemed like my entire childhood was actually a short window of time.  I was the shoe shine boy in 1965, and probably didn’t retire completely until 1968. Oh, I was in the shop a lot before and after that, but that was when I logged a lot of hours.

As the shoe shine boy I had the cool job of hanging around as men came and went all day. I listened to all manner of talk about the weather, price of cattle and/or references to hippies. Now that I think of it, hippies never came into the barber shop.

Saturdays and Saturday Nights

Saturdays were long. My dad would open the shop at 7am and we didn’t close until 9pm. I waited most Saturday mornings to go to work with my mom.  She didn’t step behind her chair until a minute past 9 in the morning.  I passed my day by shining shoes for a quarter and slipping off when things got slow to watch guys play pool, maybe play a pin ball machine or splurge to buy a Coke with a shot of cherry or vanilla in it.

On Saturday nights the street in front of the barber shop would always come alive with teenagers “dragging Main”. (Technically it’s Evans Ave. but I only throw that in for posterity.)  Continue reading Barbershop Theology: First Haircut

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On the Horizon: Second Chances




I recently went on a trip with my Oklahoma Agriculture Leadership class to a garden in Enid. I was very impressed with what I saw and heard and thought it would be a story my fellow Oklahomans would appreciate. So I went back a few weeks later and am glad I did. I think you will be too.

It’s such an uplifting story and one that has a lesson to learn about giving others a second chance. They work closely with the prison in Enid to help some of the inmates who are getting ready to be released. I’ve done other stories about former inmates and the problems they have right after being released and it’s sad the issues they have with just the basics in life…a job and shelter. One gentleman who was released a couple of years ago, couldn’t find a place to live near where he was finally able to get a job because of the city ordinances in place. It had to do with the fact that if you have a prison record, you can’t live within a certain distance near schools, churches, or parks. Well in the town he was trying to move to, schools, churches, and parks were everywhere so he couldn’t get a house or an apartment. He didn’t have a car so he couldn’t live too far from his place of employment. Luckily, he had a wonderful employer who just happened to have a vacant room on the second floor of her business where he could live. The place had a shower and a kitchenette so it was like a mini apartment within walking distance of work. She understood what it means to give a second chance to someone who has made mistakes and atoned for them.

Now I realize the ordinances in that town were put in place to protect people but sometimes you can go a little bit too far in doing so because of fear. Fear that a person with a not so reputable reputation might do harm to your neighborhood. But we shouldn’t let fear cause someone else to be harmed, namely the person who can’t find a place to live and who just wants to be able to contribute to society. They’ve learned their lesson and done their time and are now ready to step up to the plate and be a good, law-abiding citizen. Will there be some who become re-incarcerated? Sure, but is that because they weren’t able to change or is it because they haven’t been given a chance by society to prove they’ve changed. I believe many times its because they aren’t given that chance so all they’ve got is their old life and old way of doing things. They need a helping hand.
Continue reading On the Horizon: Second Chances

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