My Likes
Last updated on
May 21, 2021
Here you'll find all kinds of interesting tid bits and hobbies about Roger. Actually, this page started out as just my hobbies but has grown more into an "About Roger" page. So it appears that I need to merge my current about page with this hobby page. The two together should give a better dossier of me!!!
Also, recently added is the Man'Cade and Veggietales under the Hobbies Tab below. I don't really have a good place for my wardrobe information, so I put it under the "My Likes". I guess in a sense I do like my clothing or I wouldn't keep. The Wardrobe portions also contain some good advice (yes, contrary to popular belief, Roger does have good advice when it comes to fashion; give me a chance to put it in and you'll see).
I am debating adding a tab for "Star Wars". Yes I like it and have some memorabilia and the like but I really just try to bring up Star Wars more as a joke or nerdy intervention into sordid conversations than it is a consuming part of my life. Who am I kidding? Star Wars is great(well, was until Disney got a hold of it) . Stay tuned to see if stuff warps in for an appearance.
Last updated on July 20, 2020
I'm mean, who doesn't want to know about Roger?
I’ve pretty much lived my entire life in Martinsville, Indiana with a couple of exceptions.
The first was military service obligation, where I spent 4 years away. Though I was stationed at Hunter Army Airfield in Savannah, Ga, I spent a good amount of that time deployed to Honduras. This was back when Nicaragua was giving us trouble and El Salvador was having a civil war/revolution. I spent the remainder of regular time in Germany, though I really wanted to go to Alaska.
I also spent 5 years in the Indiana National Guard and started Officer Candidate School. An injury caused me to have to leave the guards.
The Second was my marriage service obligation, I mean when I was married. For the first portion of my marriage (my first wives also) we lived near Cope, Indiana (which technically Martinsville, Indiana) where we built a home (you can see info about the house by looking under the tab on this page called, “The House”).
Because of the long drive time to and from work, and that’s assuming that there were no accidents, bad weather or construction, led us to the conclusion that a move closer to work is in our best interest. I was happy to do so as the move would allow me 2 plus additional hours with my wife and daughter.
Roughly 6 years later, we divorced and I moved back to Morgan County very near the home I was raised in.
I have one daughter, LeeAnne. Mom and Dad are still alive; with Dad doing pretty good and Mom not so much. All three of my siblings are still alive but I am still Mom and Dad’s favorite, though Mom and Dad my not admit it, especially in from of the other kids.
I am quite active in the mission set forth to us by Jesus Christ. I run a website called EastviewConnect that the majority of the subject material is on “Creation and Evolution” with a smattering of theology mixed in.
As you can tell by all the tabs under “Hobbies” on this page, I have a lot of interests.
I really enjoy doing things with other people and a lot of my hobbies, and there are a lot, reflect this. Just have a look at all the hobbies under the “Hobbies” tab on this page.
Though not very graced in the grammar and spelling arts, I’m a pretty smart guy, preferring the absolutes of math and sciences over the, “this way or that way, depending on the situation”, of literature.
I’m fun loving and easy going though I do reflect and try to improve not just myself (except grammar and spelling) but the activities I am involved with. Some people confuse my wanting to review a group activity that performed to potentially make it better and avoid future pitfalls for similar future activities, as being an anal-retentive perfectionist.
I try really hard not to offend anyone and to be very respectful of other people and their beliefs (religious and political) but people also need to be respectful of mine. Doing this can lead to a civil dialogue so that we can understand each other. And you should expect that I respect your beliefs but that doesn’t mean that I accept beliefs.
There are some core morale’s in life that are absolutely unmovable, unbendable, unshakeable and undebatable and unlegeslateable (?). There aren’t that many but there are a few. In a lot of other established things, though I am pretty stubborn about them, we can have dialogue and potentially change my viewpoint. I’m a reasonable person but a reasonable argument for the suggested change needs to be made.
I can’t do anything about my nose. It is the way that it is. And you know what they; big nose, big feet, big…. Shoe.
I tend to dress modestly and conservatively. That probably doesn’t mean what you think though. Sure, my earthy tones I choose for my wardrobe does but on occasion, such as when I wear a tie, you’re gonna know I’m in the room. Why? It’s fun sometimes.
I am sure I embarrassed my girlfriend in high school with my ties that I wore. I wasn’t fashion minded then. A bright red tie, I thought, was great for any occasion. However, I have since learned that bright red ties aren’t always the right one. Sometimes it’s the electric blue tie. And by Electric, I mean it has batteries and powers on. Sometimes, though, you just need to blend in a little so I go for the Sunflower tie or the perhaps the Veggietales tie. You know, I’m nothing if not adaptable. Look for my tie collection to appear on my web page soon. Reality is that I don’t wear ties much anymore.
Well, as fascinated as I’m sure you are with me right now, I’m going to limit just how much you get at this point and time. Check back often for additions to this page as well as the rest.
Have a Blessed Day.
Last updated on July 22, 2020
While certainly not a complete list, what is provided does a fair job of indicating where and how I spend a majority of my time now days.
As the non-custodial parent of LeeAnne W, this empty nest syndrome that I am experiencing should not be so difficult to over come. However, due to the current state of our relationship, I am having a lot of trouble moving on.
Though most of the hobbies were the same while she did spend time with me and have that relationship, I suspect that some will change in priority once I accept all this.
The shear number of different hobbies was achievable by me, as I didn’t pursue things, such as other relationships, that could interfere with LeeAnne W and my time together. I figured that could come later if ever.
Last Updated on July 20, 2020
I’ve enjoyed archery for a number of years. Though I don’t seem to just head out and shoot as much as I used to, I stay fairly involved in the activity.
Although I have shot and owned several different bows and types of bows, I have settled on the traditional style recurve bow and given up my mechanical compound bow.
I enjoy the laid back nature of the traditional shooters. We can talk, visit, joke and have fun while out shooting, either competitively or just for fun. Compound shooters tend to not be that way. It tends to be ultra-competitive, very serious. There’s nothing wrong with that; it’s just that that’s not what I want.
Traditional bows are fairly static once make the initial purchase also. There’s not much else to buy once you complete your ensemble of quiver, arrows, and glove or tab. Compound shooters seem to be constantly tinkering with their setups, buying new sights and releases and getting the thing that just came out this week, only to replace that with the thing that comes out next week, which you purchased initially because last week it came out to replace the thing you bought the previous week.
I tend to have a liking to the TimberHawk Bows. 3 reasons are for this. First, my cousin owns the company and hand makes the bows. Second, I do participate in the company some, usually by roughing in some bows, maintaining the web site, or just being the eye candy at the shows TimberHawk attends. Third, I get a pretty good deal on new bows from TimberHawk;Scott being my cousin and all, plus the free work I do plus I’d just take one if I wanted it anyway and they wouldn’t be any the wiser.
TimberHawk generally attends 6 shows a year. Kalamazoo in January, Kentucky Tradfest in April, the Tennessee Classic in May, Cloverdale Nationals in June, E.T.A.R. in July and the Wing Ding at the Bloomington Archery Club in September.
I have several bows, both traditional and compound, that I keep for churches, groups, families and individuals to borrow and expose themselves to archery. If you would like to borrow some archery equipment, let me know; I'm sure we can fix you up.
The bow in the above picture is a TimberHawk Talon with a custom made attached wooden quiver. The bow rack is an imitation Aspen looking kit. The arrows in the bow rack are illusionary(?); in fact they are small logs or at least they shoot that way as they are way heavy. I made them to be patriotic. Red, white and blue themed including custom glued red, white and blue shafts. The arrows have brass points to give them a more majestic look.
Last updated on July 20, 2020
I'm a die hard camping person.
I often rough it with my 30' 5th wheel camper and the 24" TV. Though I like cool weather, I may turn the furnace on when I get up or before I go to bed if it is 50 degree's out. Of course, this millage may vary depending on the company I am keeping at the time. If it get's above 80, I'm probably contemplating cranking up the air, as I'm pretty hot blooded. This is called camping. Referring to it as a verb, you would, “Let’s go camping”.
Camping typically occurs in some kind of facility maintained by someone else. Like a state park, a private camp ground or your parents back yard if either (A) the camper is new and your family wants to try it out or (B) you and your spouse had a fight and you need a place for it to blow over at.
Something less civilized, but typically a lot more fun, are camps. These usually take place at locations that are not as well maintained. They may not have electricity (except via generator), running water or bath house but should at least have an outhouse. These are called camps. You usually go to camps for (A) hunting and fishing purposes or (B) because you wanted a fight with your wife and chose to use the “guys and camp” ploy to instigate it. Turkee Kamps and Deer Kamp are two prime examples of camp.
More stuff coming such as the fun and adventures that are Deer Kamps and Turkee Kamps will appear here later. Regular camping also.
Of course, we always set a portion of camp aside, or have an intervention for the guy(s) that is/are fighting with their wives, to make ourselves better. Then it is referred to as Dear Kamp. Wives typically refer to both camps as Turkey camps, referring to those in attendance.
And finally there is rouging it. Despite the chance of rain occurring when you go camping, the pretty much assured probability of rain occurring at camp, it is an absolute definite that rain will occur when roughing it. Further, roughing it means not only no electricity and no running water, but also no outhouse. However, there is toilet paper except that it ends up being soggy because of the rain.
The preferable why to rough it is to boat in with a motor boat to remote location or have someone drop you off within a few yards of where you want to suffer. Unfortunately, preferable roughing it seldom occurs. So you’re left paddling or hiking into a remote location with only the bare necessities. Since there is no electricity, there’s no reason to bring the TV and DVD player and the like. You’re limited to the amount of laptops, tablets and other technology equipment you can carry or get someone else to carry. Movies in electronic form on SD cards or thumb drives do not take up any weight so you can theoretically take as many movies as you like.
Assuming you still haven’t meet your personal maximum weight allowance, you then add the minimal amount of food to supplement your living off the land, which equates to roughly enough to feed a platoon of men for a week for each day you plan to be gone.
Again, assuming you still hasn’t meet your personal maximum weight allowance, to can then add in a sleeping bag to take. Perhaps even a change of clothes if you’re staying for several days.
Now we’re getting to where experienced roughing it comes into play. Obviously, there is no need to take any toiletry items for yourself. You’ll probably only be gone a week max, assuming you’re able to recover your boat after it sank. The experienced person knows how much toiletry items to bring for his companions. You don’t want to get stuck in a tent with guys that practice personal hygiene.
Now this part is critical. How much extra underwear do you bring? It’s tricky. You should be able to rely on your companions for the toiletry items because just as you don’t want to be in a tent with people of bad hygiene, neither do they. But what do they care about your underwear needs? Only a truly experienced roughing it person can handle the underwear issue for another camper. That person brings pink lacey Disney princess underwear for his companions if they have to borrow underwear.
But what about the slightly less than really experienced? Their not going to want to bring anything that isn’t needed because they don’t want to have to carry the extra weight. And usually, at least while at home packing, extra underwear isn’t needed. You can always “borrow” from your complains then they aren’t looking, a pair of underwear. So the lesson to be had here is to make sure that you invite someone on your roughing it trip that is the same size as you. That way, at least for the first trip or two with that person, you always have some spare wardrobe. So the answer to how much underwear do you take is…. None.
Seems like I’m leaving something out concerning the rough it camping. … hmmm….
Well, I enjoy a night of roughing it from time to time. Replaying some self-inflicted misery sure helps you to cope with when you go to camp. What am I forgetting????
Paddling up the river (never start you adventure going down because it sucks trying to go back up at the end of the trip) or floating to the back waters of the lake is pretty fun when all goes right. What… Am… I…. For… getting????
A tent. You should take a tent on your roughing it trip if you have room.
I hope you get to participate in and enjoy all forms of camping at some point in your life; multiple times even. May family certainly has. I still am.
Last updated on July 19, 2020
I don’t really want to call church a “hobby” of mine but I do spend a lot of time doing “Christian” things, often revolving around or organized by church.
However, I don’t need an “official” mandate from an organized congregation to do my works. Sure, I like it when the congregation I worship and serve with is active internally and externally that I can fell a usefully contribution. But if the structure, resources or organization doesn’t exist, I happy go off an perform, to the best of my abilities, the mandates that Christ has set forth.
Currently, I have been spending my time working on the EastviewConnect website. It is primarily designed to look at Creation and Evolution topics, largely in the science arena, though I do dabble in theism and other areas.
Last updated on July 19, 2020
I really enjoy technology playing with different kinds of computer, operating systems and various other technologies.
I use the different varieties of Windows, with 98se, Win2k and Win7 being my favorite. I hated Vista and Win 8x and don’t care for Win10. I like the MacOS’s but I haven’t used one for a couple of years now. I despise the Microsoft and Apple business models.
I am very versed in the Android OS’s on tablets and phones. I haven’t really used an Apple phone or tablet since Apple started using the lightning connectors on them. So I’m a little dated there.
I really like the *nix’s. That’s Unix and the Linux and BSD operating systems. Generally, I use the Linux flavor called Ubuntu for my servers and use either Ubuntu or LinuxMint for my desktops.
Despite being a techie, I really don’t understand social media stuff. I understand how they work, I just don’t understand the proper use of them to best reach my target audience.
Besides using technology for work and my hobby, I use my techie talents to help schools, churches, missionaries and other organizations; not to mention people.
If you have a tech problem, there’s a really good chance that I can resolve it for you. And if your computer is starting to get sluggish, we can throw a *nix on it and breathe new life into it. Don’t hesitate to contact me if you have a problem or question.
Last updated on July 20, 2020
A lot of men “Cook”. Or they think they do. Yes, they can out and through a slab of meat on a grill and come out with something pretty yummy, but I would like to suggest to you that that isn’t cooking.
Cooking should implore more than one course. A slab of meat, though sufficient for my needs and wants, is only one course. Getting your bread, and vegies and other sides is what constitutes a meal (more than one course).
I enjoy cooking and I’m pretty good at it. Being a man (some have accused me as being the poster child but I think they exaggerate) I can certainly grill, but I can also boil, broil, fry, steam, roast and burn. I’m not too proud of the last one.
I make an awesome chili like substance. I say substance, because it doesn’t really fit the chili genre and it’s my own concoction and recipe.
Mexican chicken boob is another popular dish of mine. It isn’t overly creative but has been a hit. Basically a steam chicken breast with salsa and cheese dumped on top of it. If it has too much flavor or tastes too good to you, you can yuck it up with glob of sour cream.
I also make a mean pork chop meal. And chicken thighs prepared pretty much the same way. Both cooked in what is a boiling/sizzling pan/vat/skillet of Extra Virgin (getting hard to find virgins these days) olive oil.
And I like to make what I call a “Man’s Salad”. Basically, a salad with bacon, egg, cheese, bacon, ham, bacon bits, bacon, cherry tomatoes, onion, other vegies, some lettuce but don’t overdo it, bacon. If you’re having trouble keeping the salad dressing on the fork, add a little more lettuce.
Bacon!!!!
These are pretty much my signature dishes.
Interested in one? Give me a heads up and then call to make arrangements to come on over and feast. These dishes are also made by me when I’m camping so it doesn’t have to be a home thing.
Oh, and even though I like to cook, I hate doing the dishes. So even if you don’t want to come over to eat, you’re still welcome to come over and do the dishes.
To avoid making more tabs, let me just in information about my foods. My favorite restraint is the Texas Roadhouse.
Nobel Romans bread sticks are the best. You can only get them at some gas stations though. Kinda funny that there are no Noble Romans restraints abounds but you can still get gas because of them. I really like their pizza when they existed also.
Mountain Dew is my drink of choice. Milk, water and orange juice are in my diet as well. That’s probably what’s wrong with me. Coke, Cherry Coke, Dr. Pepper, Sunkist and Sierra Mist are good substitutes for soda for me. Just for the record and you health nuts. Look on the side of the the Mountain Dew bottle. There, along with the ingredients you will see a list of the daily recommended vitamins that container of Dew holds. I contend that if you drink enough Mountain Dew a day, you will meet your dietary vitamin needs and stay healthy.
Last updated on July 22, 2020
2019 and 2020 haven’t shown much crafting from me.
LeeAnne W and I sued to do quite a bit. I have a Circuit and a Silhouette machine that we have done vinyl and other cuttings with to create things. We’ve also made Christmas ornateness and such in the past.
I used to purchase a lot of Christmas stuff, enough to fill a tall refrigerator box plus other misc sized boxes, after Christmas when they were marked down really low. Besides LeeAnne W and I making stuff, I thought either the kids at church or others would want to come together and make decorations for the needy.
One Christmas season, a few form church finally joined me in making Wreathes for the missions and a few others. I think that those with me provided maybe 7 wreathes and they each made a wreathe for themselves. LeeAnne W helped on a couple more and eventually I ended up with 50 wreathes for the missions that year.
The next year, LeeAnne W may have helped on a couple but again, 50 wreathes ere cranked out. I couldn’t generate any interest in anyone else helping.
And the third and final year, I made 50 wreathes all by myself. It was an undertaking and I didn’t really enjoy doing it by myself. The following year, I gave all the remainder of the decorations to the Women’s shelter so that they could make decorations with their families.
I don’t do much crafting any longer as it isn’t much fun by yourself. Perhaps, I’ll be able to take it up later.
Besides the cutting machines, I also have a small DIY CNC router and a laser etching machine that I use for various things. A wide format printer also is used to make banners and such for church.
Last updated on July 20, 2020
There’s no clear distinction between Family and Friends for me. In my e-mail there is only the “Friends” directory. When you see who I hang out with mostly, you see “Family”. They say you can choose your friends and not your family. I say my friends are my family and vice versa.
So how are Friends and Family hobbies? Well, I don’t mean it like Fred is my pet project. I mean it as I tend to try to find ways to integrate my family and friends into most of my likes, hobbies and daily activities. I try to find ways that my hobbies are useful or beneficial to my family and friends. I probably spend as much or more, thinking of my family and friends as I do thinking about or enjoying my other hobbies.
When I plan or do something, I tend to go big. I do this so I can maximize the numbers of my family and friends and that can participate or utilize that activity or hobby. I enjoy being with my family and friends as much as a lot of other people enjoy getting away from theirs to do their hobbies.
It’s pretty easy to get into my circle of family and friends. It’s not that easy to get out short of telling me you want out of it. I’ll respect your wishes when you tell me where to go and how to get there (some people even add if I’m getting there fast enough to suit their likings.
I’m not going to say you could have a better friend than me (someone with better abilities, or advice, etc), but I will say that you probably won’t encounter anyone that will devote themselves or try as hard to help a family member or friend than I.
And there’s always room for more family and friends in my life.
Last updated on July 22, 2020
Anyone that has ever known me, or even perhaps caught wind of me, knows that if it is possible, I’m going to wait for the movie so that I can avoid reading. Beyond the basic necessity of reading to survive, such as for driving, ordering off of a menu or to know which bathroom I should use, I’ve had a general disdain to reading.
I don’t know that I actually have a reading disability, but few people read slower than I. I actually took a speed reading course in college to increase my word intake. Twice! To show for both sessions and the $1500 I paid I increased my reading by about 10 words a minute. Of course, those ten words nearly doubled my previous capacity.
I’m not exaggerating about my 10 WPM increase but I may be about reading on 10 WPM before I started the class. Actually I don’t remember the number; probably because it was embarrassingly slow. I don’t recall being taught how to read; I just remember being huranged(?) to read by my teachers. I guess the mantra of practice makes perfect (perfect? Maybe practice makes one faster). In any case, I never became profound at reading and retention was also a problem for me.
That probably explains why I don’t do much “Recreational Reading”. I’m so resolute against reading that I find it difficult that there really is such a thing as recreational reading. I notice, for instance, while siting on a beach, many people sunning themselves while they have their noses in a book. Are they recreating I ask myself? I look all around and notice people reading, children playing and dogs in the surf. Hmmm, maybe instead of recreational reading, I distract read.
No matter, as per my personality, if I have to read, I want it to be in a technical manner. That way I can look up in an index for instance and then go directly to what I need to read, read it and then be off on another adventure. I have no interests in reading novels, newspapers, teleprompters or the like.
As close as I get to recreational reading is reading my Bible and associated materials; which are usually in the arena of Creation and Evolution science, cartoons and humorous short stories by a man named Patrick F McManus.
Typically, Ol’ Pat as I like to call him (he jokingly corrects me by saying Mr McManus), writes stories about outdoor misadventures, using an avatar of himself as the main character. Most of them revolve childhood ventures. The stories seem very life like to me and I can picture myself, at any age, either being Pat or being his sidekick in them.
My two favorite stories written by him are “Letters from Camp” and My First Deer and You’re Welcome to it”. He has so many great stories that is very difficult for me to say that these two are my favorite but note that "The Night the Bear Ate Goomba" really wanted to make the list.
Below are a listing of his books and the full two stories I mentioned.
And if Ol’ Pat doesn’t seethe fine literature t you, I also adore the Infamous Calvin and Hobbs by Bill Watterson. I don’t have all of Ol’ Pat’s books because he did write more than just short stories, but I can safely and proudly say that I have all of the Calvin and Hobbs books.
A Fine and Pleasant Misery – 1978
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- A Fine and Pleasant Misery
- A Dog for All Seasons
- The Modified Stationary Panic
- Grogan’s War Surplus
- The Big Trip
- The Theory and Application of Old Men
- The Two-Wheeled ATV
- The Backyard Safari
- Shooting the Chick-a-nout Narrrows
- The Miracle of the Fish Plate
- The Backpacker
- Great Outdoor Gadgets Nobody Ever Invented
- The Purist
- The Outfit
- Kid Camping
- How to Fish a Crick
- Further Teachings of Rancid Crabtree
- The Great Cow Plot
- The Mountain Man
- The Rescue
- “I’ll Never Forget Old 5789-A”
- The B’ar
- The Rendezvous
- Cigars, Logging Trucks, and Know-It-Alls
- But Where’s the Park, Papa?
- A Yup of a Different Color
- Mountain Goats Never Say “Cheese!”
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They Shoot Canoes, Don't They? - 1981
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- All You Ever Wanted to Know About Live Bait but Were Afraid to Ask
- The Green Box
- Skunk Dog
- Cold Fish
- The Rifle
- They Shoot Canoes, Don’t They?
- My First Deer, and Welcome to It
- The Crouch Hop and Other Useful Outdoor Steps
- Meanwhile, Back at the B Western
- The Education of a Sportsman
- The Gift
- The Sensuous Angler
- And
- Never Sniff a Gift Fish – 1983
- Blowing Smoke
- Poof—No Eyebrows!
- I Fish; Therefore, I Am
- Running on Empty
- The Cat and the Cat Burglar
- Salami on Rye and Hold the Wild Gobo
- Two-Man-Tent Fever
- Fish Poles, and Other Useful Terminology
- The Man Who Notices Things
- The Elk Trappers
- The Short Happy Life of Francis Cucumber
- The Arkansas Prank Hound
- Well, Excuuuuse Me!
- The Mountain Car
- The Christmas Hatchet
- The Night Grandma Shot Shorty
- The Kindest Cut of All
- The Bush Pilots
- Share and Share Alike
- Never Sniff a Gift Fish
- Backseats I Have Known
- Edgy Rider
- Strange Scenes and Eerie Events
- The Hunters’ Workout Guide
- Temporary Measures
- The Fibricators
- The Family Camper’s Dictionary
- The Big Match
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The Grasshopper Trap – 1985
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- The Skunk Ladder
- How to Go Splat!
- The Human Fuel Pump
- ‘Twas a Dark and Dreary Night
- Trailer Trials
- The Grasshopper Trap
- Get Lost!
- Never Cry Snake!
- Metamorphosis and Other Outdoor Phenomena Wives Don’t Understand
- The Swamp
- A Hunker is Not a Squat
- Why Wives on Christmas Mourn
- The Hunting Lesson
- First Knife
- Nincompoopery and Other Group Terms
- Bad Company
- The Case of the Missed Deer
- Character Flaws
- Mean Tents
- Crick Ritual
- Hunting Camp Etiquette
- Stone Soup
- Gunrunning
- The Wager
- Letters from Camp
- Sweet Sweet Sixteen
- Down and Way Out in Brazil
- Strange Encounters of the Bird Kind
- The Outing
- I, the Hunted
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Rubber Legs and White Tail-Hairs – 1987
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- Muldoon in Love
- Cry Wolf
- Pigs
- The MFFFF
- Summer Reading
- Angler’s Dictionary
- The Mountain
- Not Long for This Whirl
- Claw of the Sea-Puss
- A Really Nice Blizzard
- Rubber Legs and White Tail-Hairs
- Nude, with Other Wildlife
- The Belcher
- Shooter
- The Last Flight of Homer Pidgin
- A Boy and His (Ugh!) Dog
- To Filet or Not to Filet
- What’s in a Name, Moonbeam?
- Loud Screeching and Other Tips on Getting Lost
- The Big Fix
- The Fine Art of Delay
- Gun-Trading
- Throwing Stuff
- Letter to Santa
- The Cabin at Spooky Lake
- Outdoor Burnout
- Advanced Duck-Hunting Techniques
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The Night the Bear Ate Goombaw – 1989
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- Sequences
- The Dumbest Antelope
- Out of Sync
- Kid Brothers and Their Practical Application
- The Fried Flies, please, and Easy on the Garlic
- At Loose Ends
- Getting It in the Ear
- Garage-Sale Hype
- How to Get Started in Bass Fishing
- As the Worm Squirms
- Scoring
- A Road Less Traveled By
- Gunkholing
- Blips
- The Night the Bear Ate Goombaw
- Water Spirits
- Letter to the Boss
- Scritch’s Creek
- The Tin Horn
- Cupidity, Draw Thy Bow
- Whitewater Fever
- Never Cry “Arp!”
- Visions of Fish and Game
- A Brief History of Boats and Marriage
- Boating Disorders
- Try Not to Annoy Me
- Real Ponies Don't Go Oink! - 1991
- Controlling My Life
- Strange Meets Matilda Jean
- A Good Deed Goes Wrong
- The Fishing Box
- Social Skills
- The Clown
- A Good Night’s Sleep
- A Brief History of Giving (1942-89)
- Pouring My Own
- Teenagers From Hell
- Secret Places
- Puttering
- Search and—Uh—Rescue
- The Bust
- Real Ponies Don’t Go Oink!
- Blood Sausage
- Crash Dive!
- My Abduction by Creatures From Space, for What It’s Worth
- Phantom of the Woods
- The Piano Lesson
- Zumbo and the Misty Mountain Ghosts
- The Road Hunter
- Why Is It?
- The Late Great Fourth
- Camping In
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The Good Samaritan Strikes Again – 1992
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- The Worry Box
- Sighting-In: The McManus Method
- The Big Fish
- The Farm
- Now You See Me, Now You Don’t
- The Blundered Buss
- Chukar Madness
- Cubs
- The Grogan Look
- The Secret of Goosey Smith’s Success
- Easy Ed
- You Can See by My Outfit
- Forget Desire
- The Good Samaritan Strikes Again
- Ah, Sweet Poverty!
- My Unsolved Mystery
- Bring Me One Oscar, Hold the Sarcasm
- The Flashlight Man
- The Fly
- Mean Gifts
- Snake
- Score One for the Pinky
- The Kelly Irregulars Learn to Cry
- Rancid Crabtree and the Demon Bat
- How I Got This Way – 1994
- How I Got This Way, Part I
- Ethics, and What to Do About Them
- Bambo
- Get Ready
- Toe
- The Bandage
- The Big Woods
- Elk Magic
- There She Blows
- Brimstone
- The Blue Dress
- Warped Camshaft
- The 400-Pound Pumpkin
- Tenner-Shoe Blight
- Letter from a Kingfisher
- The Ultimate Bull
- My Greatest Triumph
- Another Boring Day
- The Complete Curmudgeon
- The Liars Club
- A Couple Pickles Shy of a Full Barrel
- Excuse Me, While I Get Out of the Way
- The Two Masked Raiders
- Mosquito Bay
- My Hike with, ahem, the President
- Ed in Camp
- How I Got This Way, Part II
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Never Cry 'Arp' and Other Great Adventures – 1996
This book contains stories that have been in other books and is intended for young readers.
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- Skunk Dog
- The Mountain
- Reading Sign
- Kid Brothers and Their Practical Application
- Never Cry “Arp!”
- Real Ponies Don’t Go Oink!
- Secret Places
- A Really Nice Blizzard
- Cubs
- Muldoon in Love
- Not Long for This Whirl
- The Night the Bear Ate Goombaw
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Into the Twilight, Endlessly Grousing – 1997
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- The Boy
- Mountain Men
- Smoke!
- Sam Spud and the Case of the Maltese Fly
- Other Than That, Bostich…
- The Chicken-Fried Club
- Into the Twilight, Endlessly Grousing
- Dream Fish
- Will
- Crime Wave
- Attack of the Stamp People
- Big Ben
- Roast Beef
- The Fly Rod
- The Stupidity Alarm
- Work and Other Horrors
- The Dangers of Light Tackle
- Faint Heart
- Mrs. Peabody II
- Cereal Crime
- Pickers
- My Fishing Trip with Ernie
- For Crying Out Loud!
- Fan Mail
- Bike Ride
- Uncle Flynn’s Hairy Adventure
- Hunting the Wily Avid
- The Bear in the Attic – 2002
- The Bear in the Attic
- The Magic Tree
- ’37 Pickup
- Skinny in Traffic
- The Gap
- Incident at Fish Camp
- Roughing It Over Easy
- Culinary Magic
- If I May Digress
- Just Like Old Times
- Comments I Could Do Without
- Leakage
- The Last Honest Man
- Pockets
- Ralston Comes Through
- Trumped by a King
- A Hunter’s Breakfast
- As the Ear is Bent
- Curly and Mo
- Survivors of the Far Out
- Bearness
- The Shooting Lesson
- Dumb Feet
- Of Fire and the Night
- The Snow Cave
- The Unexplained
- The Time Machine
- Tin Boat
- What’s in a Name
- Wrestling Toads
- Sling Bleed
- A Big Chill
- In Judgment of Men
- Pest Power
- A Fish for Vile
- Real Work
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Kerplunk! - 2007
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- Kerplunk!
- The Art of Trailering
- Silent but Deadly
- Excuses Excuses
- Splitting Infinitives
- Don’t Annoy My Inner Frontiersman
- Camping Out with Lewis & Clark
- Strange Meets His Match
- “Uh-oh!” (And Other Things Guides Shouldn’t Say)
- The Ideal Life
- A Creek Too Far
- The Perfect Hunt
- Thirty Days
- Where’s Mr. Sun?
- The Lucky Guy
- Many Are Called
- A Dimple in Time
- Spare Me the Details (What Are the Odds of a Double Flat?)
- The Haircut
- Bed-and-Breakfast
- Lenny
- The Winter of Eighteen Months
- Christmas Goose
- Peak Experience
- Back to Basics
- People Who Hunt
- For Every Smell, a Nose
- The Ordinary
- The Kind of Guy I Am
- High-Centered (And Other Life Lessons)
- A Look Too Many
- The Eighty
- Performance Netting
- The Pasture
- Predicament
- Dalliance
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The Horse in My Garage and Other Stories - 2013
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- I'll get this list done later
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Under no circumstance should you expand either of these two accordions. They contain the full stories written by Patrick F McManus. I am able t place them here for my own personal use since I own the books (at lest two copies of each). OK, I instructed you not to but i can't keep you from clicking on them and reading.
Letters from Camp
I have recently come into possession of some letters from camp. They were written by my next-door neighbor, Fenton Quagmire, during the course of a hunting trip he, Retch Sweeney, and I took to Montana a few years ago. The letters, written to Quagmire's wife, Marge, are of interest for a number of reasons. First of all, they show a childish and peevish man growing quickly to maturity as a result of enduring the hardships of his first hunting trip.
Second, the letters were introduced as evidence in two lawsuits, one a divorce case that Mrs. Quagmire brought against her husband, and the other an alienation-of-affection case she filed against Sweeney
and me.
I am happy to report that Marge eventually regained possession of her senses and withdrew both suits. In fact, it was she who gave me the letters, along with some blunt advice as to their disposition. I
thought the advice a bit extreme, if not unladylike, and have chosen instead to publish the letters here in the hope that they will show the therapeutic effects of a simple hunting trip.
Saturday, 12:30 p.m. My Dearest Darling Dumpling, Am writing these letters to you in case I don't survive this trip with the two madmen and so you will have something to remember me by.
Have stopped briefly in middle of a godforsaken prairie here in Montana.
The two madmen, McManus and Sweeney, have got out of car to settle dispute between them. Sweeney claims Indians used to attract buffalo within range of arrows by waving white flag. McManus argues trick
was used on antelope.
Small herd of buffalo near highway, and McManus is standing out there laughing uproariously, as is his fashion, while Sweeney waves T-shirt at buffalo.
Why I ever let them talk me into this trip I'll never know. To think that I'll be in their company for another whole week is almost more than I can stand. Must admit, however, that so far trip has exceeded my wildest expectations, which is to say that I am still alive and unmaimed and if I ever ge
Saturday, 3:30 p.m. Dearest Darling Dumpling, Back again. McManus peeved and even more sarcastic than usual, if you can imagine. Asked him straight out, would he rather cling with his fingers to rain gutter of station wagon for few hundred yards at high speed or have both vehicle and himself wiped out in buffalo
stampede?
just fortunate for all concerned I had presence of mind to throw wagon in gear and stomp on accelerator. You'd have been proud of HubbyWubby!
As yet no sign of Sweeney. Have told McManus to calm down, not to worry.
When Sweeney went over top of hill he had good lead on buffalo. Don't know how interested you are in buffalo lore, but their curiosity is aroused by waving white T-shirt.
Your Hubby-Wubby Saturday, 5:30 p.m.
Dearest Darling Dumpling, Back again.
Have left prairie behind and moving up into mountains. Scenery absolutely splendid. Peaks frosted with snow, foothills ablaze with colon-chokecherry, birch, alder, quaking aspen. Which reminds me--Sweeney back with us again and none the worse for wear. Looks better for having shed a few pounds. Managed to run in a wide circle and, as I anticipated, we intercepted him as he crossed highway, although not until second time around.
Buffalo exhausted. Sweeney recuperating fast, to judge from his determined but feeble attempts to reach up and squeeze my throat.
Sweeney great clown!
Such crude humor, tho, not to my taste.
Should make camp soon. Will try to add note to this letter before we hit goosedown.
Love, Hubby-Wubby
Saturday, 9:30 p.m. Dearest Darling Dumpling, At my wits' end! Oh, how I long to be curled up beside you under our dual-control queen-sized electric blanket! These imbeciles! These
morons!
Cannot believe what they perpetrated against me. One of the fatheads forgot his sleeping bag! Neither, of course, will admit to being the villain.
Even tried to make out it was I who forgot my sleeping bag. What they have suggested--no, in fact demanded--is we zip the two sleeping bags together and all three of us sleep in the communal bag! Can you imagine such a disgusting thing? Have told them I will sit outside tent all night by fire, rather than submit to gross indignity of such arrangement.
Your Hubby-Wubby, Fenton
Sunday, 10:00 a.m. My Dearest Darling Dumpling, Place where we're camped very wild, apparently inhabited by sizable population of grizzly bears. Last night one started howling short distance from camp.
McManus identified the hideous wailing as that of grizzly. Still shudder when I think of it. Am exhausted, having got almost no sleep last night. Have you ever slept in a double sleeping bag with two men who snore?
No, I suppose not. Most uncomfortable and distasteful, particularly when you are in the middle and other two have been chased by buffalo earlier in day.
Food terrible. McManus whipped up his infamous Watchagot stew for supper last night. We ate it in pitch darkness, the only redeeming feature of meal.
Coffee tasted like boiled socks, biscuits had to be cracked with hatchet.
Whipped topping McManus sprayed on instant dessert turned out to be my shaving cream. Ate only the shaving cream since didn't trust dessert.
Must run now.
Your ever-loving Hubby-Wubby
Sunday, 7:00 p.m. Dearest Darling Dumpling, Today uneventful. Went on first hunt. Sport highly over rated.
Meatheads took me out to a cleared area and told me to watch it while they circled around mountain and "drove" toward me. Nothing more boring than watching a clearing, unless perhaps it is listening to McManus reminisce interminably about his childhood.
Finally, out of boredom and for joke, made huge grizzly track in soft dirt, left my hat on ground a few yards away, then went back to camp and caught some shut-eye in communal sleeping bag. Must have been exhausted because didn't wake up until heard McManus & Sweeney talking outside tent.
You would have laughed!
"Poor Quagmire," McManus said.
"Yep," said Sweeney, "he was nice little guy."
"You think a grizzly got him?"
"Maybe. Never seen a grizzly track that big before--eighteen claws!"
"We're going to have to tell his wife what happened to him. Now don't let me forget!"
"I won't. She's probably going to be upset."
"Probably. You know what this means, don't you?"
"Yeah. We can each have our own sleeping bag tonight."
Fearing they would turn maudlin, I leaped out of tent and yelled, "Surprise! I'm alive!"
"We thought you got et," was all Sweeney could bring himself to say.
McManus struggled to control his emotions. "Anyway, tonight's my turn to sleep in the middle," he said.
Sort of moved by their reaction. Hadn't realized they liked me.
Love, Hubby-Wubby
Monday Dearest Darling Dumpling, McManus & Sweeney teaching me all kinds of good stuff about hunting and camping. Let me build campfire this morning. Rather amusing, since both wanted to build it. After brief argument, McManus said, "Heck, why don't we let Quagmire build the fire? It's not fair for you and me to hog all the fun."
"Yeah, I guess you're right," Sweeney said. "Fenton, you get to build the fire."
Building campfire isn't as easy as you might think. First had to knock all the snow off the firewood. Nearly froze to death before I got fire going.
But it was worth it. McManus & Sweeney came out of tent later and critiqued fire.
"Not a bad fire for your first time," McManus told me.
"Yeah, you done good, Fent," Sweeney said.
"All he needs is just a bit more practice to get his fire-building technique perfected, don't you think, Retch?"
"Maybe we should let him get up and build the fire every morning," Sweeney said.
"Yeah, I suppose you're right."
Then they made me the official fire-builder! It's quite an honor.
Know it sounds crazy, but can't tell you how pleased I am that they would entrust me with this important chore. They even talk about letting me make the coffee in the morning! Which reminds me, Sweeney found the sock he lost.
Coffee has since improved.
Now for the best news. Sweeney shot nice buck today; and I nearly shot one! Herd of deer came right by me. Slipped rifle safety off and aimed just behind shoulder of big buck, held breath, and slowly squeezed trigger, just like McManus showed me. He watched through binoculars and said later I did everything just right! Said he is really pleased the way I handled myself.
"Starting tomorrow, Fenton," he told me, "you get to put shells in your rifle." Can hardly wait!
Love, Hubby Thursday
Dear Dumpling, You're not going to believe this, but I'm now official camp cook. Pat and Retch say they've never seen anybody catch on to hunting camp routine so fast.
Turns out that I'm a surprisingly good shot. Got two grouse today with my rifle and cooked them for supper. Wrapped them in aluminum foil with a bit of bacon and baked them in coals. Pat said they were almost as good as his Whatchagot stew, which is great compliment from him.
For breakfast tomorrow I'm cooking pancakes and venison steaks. Pat and Retch have offered to do dishes, clean my rifle, and oil my boots.
Love, Hub
Friday Dear Dump: Good ol' Pat got his deer today, a four-point mulie. Even asked my advice, if you can imagine that. Told him I figured deer would be bedded down on the leeward side of the ridge because a sharp wind blowing all morning.
Told him I'd swing around on the downwind side and see if I couldn't flush deer out onto open ground and that if he was in a good position to cover the ridge he'd probably get a shot. That's just the way it worked out, too.
Well, I'd better turn in. Exhausted and exhilarated.
Love, Fenton
Saturday Dear Marge, Got my deer!
To tell truth, I hadn't known what this sport all about until now.
My old buddies Pat and Retch showed me how to dress out deer. Did it all by myself! Took me quite a while, but Pat and Retch said to take my time and do it right and not to worry about the camp chores because they were tired of me hogging all the fun and from now on they get to share them with me.
Best wishes, Fenton Sunday Marge, The three of us talked it over and decided we won't be home for another week. Driving into town tomorrow for elk tags. Will mail these letters to you then. Don't worry if you don't hear from me for a while.
Cordially, Fenton Quagmire
My First Deer, and Welcome to It
For a first deer, there is no habitat so lush and fine as a hunter’s memory. Three decades and more of observation have convinced me that a first deer not only lives on in the memory of a hunter but thrives there, increasing in points and pounds with each passing year until at last it reaches full maturity, which is to say, big enough to shade a team of Belgian draft horses in its shadow at high noon. It is a remarkable phenomenon and worthy of study.
Consider the case of my friend Retch Sweeney and his first deer. I was with him when he shot the deer, and though my first impression was that Retch had killed a large jackrabbit, closer examination revealed it to be a little spike buck. We were both only fourteen at the time and quivering with excitement over Retch’s good fortune in getting his first deer. Still, there was no question in either of our minds that what he had bagged was a spike buck, one slightly larger than a bread box.
You can imagine my surprise when, scarcely a month later, I overheard Retch telling some friends that his first deer was a nice four-point buck. I mentioned to Retch afterwards that I was amazed at how fast his deer was growing. He said he was a little surprised himself but was pleased it was doing so well. He admitted that he had known all along that the deer was going to get bigger eventually although he hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly. Staring off into the middle distance, a dreamy expression on his face, he told me, “You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if someday my first deer becomes a world’s record trophy.”
“I wouldn’t either,” I said. “In fact, I’d be willing to bet on it.”
Not long ago, Retch and I were chatting with some of the boys down at Kelly’s Bar & Grill and the talk turned to first deer. It was disgusting. I can stand maudlin sentimentality as well as the next fellow, but I have my limits. Some of those first deer had a mastery of escape routines that would have put Houdini to shame. Most of them were so smart there was some question in my mind as to whether the hunter had bagged a deer or a Rhodes Scholar. I wanted to ask them if they had tagged their buck or awarded it a Phi Beta Kappa key. And big! There wasn’t a deer there who couldn’t have cradled a baby grand piano in its rack. Finally it was Retch’s turn, and between waves of nausea I wondered whether that little spike buck had developed enough over the years to meet this kind of competition. I needn’t have wondered.
Retch’s deer no longer walked in typical deer fashion; it “ghosted” about through the trees like an apparition. When it galloped, though, the sound was “like thunder rolling through the hills.” And so help me, “fire flickered in its eyes.” Its tracks “looked like they’d been excavated with a backhoe, they were that big.” Smart? That deer could have taught field tactics at West Point. Retch’s little spike buck had come a long way, baby.
At last Retch reached the climax of his story. “I don’t expect you boys to believe this,” he said, his voice hushed with reverence, “but when I dropped that deer, the mountain trembled .” The boys all nodded, believing. Why, hadn’t the mountain trembled for them too when they shot their first deer? Of course it had. All first deer are like that.
Except mine.
I banged the table for attention. “Now,” I said, “I’m going to tell you about a real first deer, not a figment of my senility, not some fossilized hope of my gangling adolescence, but a real first deer.”
Now I could tell from looking at their stunned faces that the boys were upset. There is nothing that angers the participants of a bull session more than someone who refuses to engage in the mutual exchange of illusions, someone who tells the simple truth, unstretched, unvarnished, unembellished, and whole.
“Even though it violates the code of the true sportsperson,” I began, “I must confess that I still harbor unkind thoughts for my first deer. True to his form and unlike almost all other first deer, he has steadfastly refused to grow in either my memory or imagination; he simply stands there in original size and puny rack, peering over the lip of my consciousness, an insolent smirk decorating his pointy face.
Here I offered that thankless creature escape from the anonymity of becoming someone else’s second or seventh or seventeenth deer or, at the very least, from an old age presided over by coyotes. And how did he repay me? With humiliation!“
The boys at Kelly’s shrank back in horror at this heresy. Retch Sweeney tried to slip away, but I riveted him to his chair with a maniacal laugh. His eyes pleaded with me. “No, don’t tell us!” they said. “Don’t destroy the myth of the first deer!” (which is a pretty long speech for a couple of beady, bloodshot eyes).
Unrelenting and with only an occasional pause for a bitter, sardonic cackle to escape my foam-flecked lips, I plunged on with the tale, stripping away layer after layer of myth until at last the truth about one man’s first deer had been disrobed and lay before them in all its grim and naked majesty, shivering and covered with goose bumps.
I began by pointing out what I considered to be one of the great bureaucratic absurdities of all time: that a boy at age fourteen was allowed to purchase his first hunting license and deer tag but was prevented from obtaining a driver’s license until he was sixteen. This was like telling a kid he could go swimming but to stay away from the water. Did the bureaucrats think that trophy mule deer came down from the hills in the evening to drink out of your garden hose? The predicament left you no recourse but to beg the adult hunters you knew to take you hunting with them on weekends. My problem was that all the adult hunters I knew bagged their deer in the first couple of weeks of the season, and from then on I had to furnish my own transportation.
This meant that in order to get up to the top of the mountain where the trophy mule deer hung out, I had to start out at four in the morning if I wanted to be there by noon. I remember one time when I was steering around some big boulders in the road about three-quarters of the way up the Dawson Grade and a jeep with two hunters in it came plowing up behind me. I pulled over so they could pass. The hunters grinned at me as they went by. You’d think they’d never before seen anyone pedaling a bike twenty miles up the side of a mountain to go deer hunting.
I had rigged up my bike especially for deer hunting. There were straps to hold my rifle snugly across the handlebars, and saddlebags draped over the back fender to carry my gear. The back fender had been reinforced to support a sturdy platform, my reason for this being that I didn’t believe the original fender was stout enough to support a buck when I got one. My one oversight was failing to put a guard over the top of the bike chain, in which I had to worry constantly about getting my tongue caught. Deer hunting on a bike was no picnic.
A mile farther on and a couple of hours later I came to where the fellows in the jeep were busy setting up camp with some other hunters.
Apparently, someone told a fantastic joke just as I went pumping by because they all collapsed in a fit of laughter and were doubled over and rolling on the ground and pounding trees with their fists. They seemed like a bunch of lunatics to me, and I hoped they didn’t plan on hunting in the same area I was headed for.
I couldn’t wait to see their faces when I came coasting easily back down the mountain with a trophy buck draped over the back of my bike.
One of the main problems with biking your way out to hunt deer was that, if you left at four in the morning, by the time you got to the hunting place there were only a couple of hours of daylight left in which to do your hunting. Then you had to spend some time resting, at least until the pounding of your heart eased up enough not to frighten the deer.
As luck would have it, just as I was unstrapping my rifle from the handlebars, a buck mule deer came dancing out of the brush not twenty yards away from me. Now right then I should have known he was up to no good. He had doubtless been lying on a ledge and watching me for hours as I pumped my way up the mountain. He had probably even snickered to himself as he plotted ways to embarrass me.
All the time I was easing the rifle loose from the handlebars, digging a shell out of my pocket, and thumbing it into the rifle, the deer danced and clowned and cut up all around me, smirking the whole while.
The instant I jacked the shell into the chamber, however, he stepped behind a tree. I darted to one side, rifle at the ready. He moved to the other side of the tree and stuck his head out just enough so I could see him feigning a yawn.
As I moved up close to the tree, he did a rapid tiptoe to another tree.
I heard him snort with laughter. For a whole hour he toyed with me in this manner, enjoying himself immensely. Then I fooled him, or at least so I thought at the time. I turned and started walking in a dejected manner back toward my bike, still watching his hiding place out of the corner of my eye. He stuck his head out to see what I was up to. I stepped behind a small bush and knelt as if to tie my shoe. Then, swiftly I turned, drew a bead on his head, and fired. Down he went.
I was still congratulating myself on a fine shot when I rushed up to his crumpled form. Strangely, I could not detect a bullet hole in his head, but one of his antlers was chipped and I figured the slug had struck there with sufficient force to do him in. “No matter,” I said to myself, “I have at last got my first deer,” and I pictured in my mind the joyous welcome I would receive when I came home hauling in a hundred or so pounds of venison. Then I discovered my knife had fallen out of its sheath during my frantic pursuit of the deer. Instant anguish! The question that nagged my waking moments for years afterwards was: Did the deer know that I had dropped my knife? Had I only interpreted it correctly, the answer to that question was written all over the buck’s face—he was still wearing that stupid smirk.
“Well,” I told myself, “what I’ll do is just load him on my bike, haul him down to the lunatic hunters’camp, and borrow a knife from them to dress him out with.” I thought this plan particularly good in that it would offer me the opportunity to give those smart alecks a few tips on deer hunting. Loading the buck on the bike was much more of a problem than I had expected. When I draped him crosswise over the platform on the rear fender, his head and front quarters dragged on one side and his rear quarters on the other. Several times as I lifted and pulled and hauled, I thought I heard a giggle, but when I looked around nobody was there. It was during one of these pauses that a brilliant idea occurred to me. With herculean effort, I managed to arrange the deer so that he was sitting astraddle of the platform, his four legs splayed out forward and his head drooping down. I lashed his front feet to the handlebars, one on each side. Then I slid up onto the seat ahead of him, draped his head over my right shoulder, and pushed off.
I must admit that riding a bike with a deer on behind was a good deal more difficult than I had anticipated. Even though I pressed down on the brake for all I was worth, our wobbling descent was much faster than I would have liked. The road was narrow, twisting, and filled with ruts and large rocks, with breathtaking dropoffs on the outer edge. When we came hurtling around a sharp, high bend above the hunters’ camp, I glanced down. Even from that distance I could see their eyes pop and their jaws sag as they caught sight of us.
What worried me most was the hill that led down to the camp. As we arrived at the crest of it, my heart, liver, and kidneys all jumped in unison.
The hill was much steeper than I had remembered. It was at that point that the buck gave a loud, startled snort.
My first deer had either just regained consciousness or been shocked out of his pretense of death at the sight of the plummeting grade before us. We both tried to leap free of the bike, but he was tied on and I was locked in the embrace of his front legs.
When we shot past the hunters’ camp, I was too occupied at the moment to get a good look at their faces. I heard afterwards that a game warden found them several hours later, frozen in various postures and still staring at the road in front of their camp. The report was probably exaggerated, however, game wardens being little better than hunters at sticking to the simple truth.
I probably would have been able to get the bike stopped sooner and with fewer injuries to myself if I had had enough sense to tie down the deer’s hind legs. As it was, he started flailing wildly about with them and somehow managed to get his hooves on the pedals. By the time we reached the bottom of the mountain he not only had the hang of pedaling but was showing considerable talent for it. He also seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. We zoomed up and down over the rolling foothills and into the bottomlands, with the deer pedaling wildly and me shouting and cursing and trying to wrest control of the bike from him. At last he piled us up in the middle of a farmer’s pumpkin patch.
He tore himself loose from the bike and bounded into the woods, all the while making obscene gestures at me with his tail. I threw the rifle to my shoulder and got off one quick shot. It might have hit him too, if the bike hadn’t been still strapped to the rifle.
“Now that,” I said to the boys at Kelly’s, “is how to tell about a first deer—a straightforward factual report unadorned by a lot of lies and sentimentality.”
Unrepentant, they muttered angrily. To soothe their injured feelings, I told them about my second deer. It was so big it could cradle a baby grand piano in its rack and shade a team of Belgian draft horses in its shadow at high noon. Honest! I wouldn’t lie about a thing like that.
Last updated on July 20, 2020
My cousin Tim and I used to do a lot of fishing. A lot. And my 2 best friends as well. I don’t do nearly as much as I used to but I still enjoy it.
Not only do I enjoy the catching of fish, but I enjoy some of the same facets of fishing as I have with hunting. I enjoy being out on the water or fishing from the shore for cats next to a fire (you can have a fire on the boar with you when fishing for cats but only for a while; of course, then after, your fishing will be done pretty exclusively from the shore).
And of course I enjoy eating them.
And though from time to time, frantic catching of fish, by frantic I mean the fishing is so hot that you can’t relax for the catching of fish, is fun, I really enjoy the leisurely fishing of boober or cat fishing. Heck, I’ve been tempted to even not bait the hook and just through it in so as to get full enjoyment out of fishing without being bothered by fishing.
I also enjoy trout line fishing. We often do this prior to a camp so that we can have a big fish fry one day of the camp for everyone. Despite its name, trout line fishing usually produces cat fish. It works best 3 people though 2 can handle it pretty well. You have a line with 25 or so hooks on it. It is baited with shrimp of left over parts of a fish from another fishing trip. You tie one end of the line off and slowly back the boat away from where you tied it off at, easing the line and hooks onto the water.
About 12 to 24 hours later you go back to retrieve your line. Assuming that no rude or inconsiderate bass fishermen has cut your lines, you begin pulling the trout line up. You roll the line back onto a spool of some nature and take the fish (assuming you caught some) off the line and placing them into the live well (or bucket if can’t afford a live well; or the bottom of the boat if you forgot your bucket).
And there’s also the good old bass and crappie fishing. But fishing shouldn’t be work, and you have to try hard to keep it from becoming work sometimes. Fishing should be just about relaxing and sitting back and drinking a cold one (Mt Dew).
Last updated on July 22, 2020
Part of living up to my boyish standards is my desires to play games.
In the Man’Cade, you see a palithera of Arcade era games. But I also have clung onto my other electronic gaming devices such as the Atari Lynx.
LeeAnne W used to enjoy playing board games together. Besides Guess Who, we would play the matching games with Grandma Mickey W and Grandpa Vernon W. It was hard to win when Grandma was playing the matching game because she would absent mindedly place the pieces back down at random places after she viewed them instead of where she picked them up from.
Of course, along with Kizzy at times, we played Monopoly, Monopoly Jr, and Life.
As far as adult or grown up board games go, I enjoy playing Boulderdash, TriBond and other team games.
We also used to do quite a few puzzles. And not just the flat ones but the 3D ones. Working on flat or 2D puzzles with LeeAnne W wasn’t to hard but it was nearly impossible to contribute with her on a 3D one., She would horde the pieces and always maintained control of the bulk of the completed puzzle.
I treasured those moments with her and still have very deep memories of them. I still have several of the 3D puzzles in completed form on display. I have purchased more hoping that she would spend some time with me sometime and we could work on them while talking and catching up. Silly futile hope, I guess.
Posted on July 19, 2020
Unfortunately, I am having trouble moving on from LeeAnne. Even when she quit gardening with me, I still enjoyed watching her going through the flowers to pick some for…. Julie. Although I myself wasn’t going to pick any for Julie, I did get satisfaction watching LeeAnne pick them and the smile that she had when she gave them to Julie. I could take the hit for those smiles.
But this year, having not really been with, seen or talked with LeeAnne much, I just couldn’t get into the gardening of flowers as well as the putting out of some vegetables; like the peppers and tomatoes I like. I’ve even put out cucumbers as LeeAnne liked them (I don’t eat enough of them to justify putting them out for myself).
I pretty much keep mom stocked in flowers as well as some other people and on occasion some flora makes it to church with me to give to older ladies there.
So this year, my gardening is non-existent. Go back and look at the years prior to 2020 to see how things normally look around here as well as Fishers where I used to live and down on McWhorter Road in Martinsville where we started out.
So for now, I’m just putting a few pictures from around the house here in my gardening section of my hobbies. Next year, I’ll hopefully be back into it and get the green house going and go full bore into flowers and some vegies.
The flowers will be in here later tonight.
Rose of Sharon along my driveway
Black Eyed Susan, Dianthus
Trumpet Vine
Day Lilly
Day Lilly
Roses, Flocks and a variety of lily
Banana Trees
Flocks
Tiger Lilly
Day Lilly
Day Lilly
Day Lilly
Last updated on July 20, 2020
When younger, I didn’t hunt just for the pleasure of hunting. Some aspect of it was to prove myself. Now that I’m older, I no longer feel the need to prove myself to others, though in reality, that probably still needs to happen.
Hunting now days to me is primarily about social interaction, enjoying nature, napping, and getting in some reading; maybe even a good meal.
Hunting, the social aspect, is about getting with my friends and family and hanging out. Typically eating a good meal. Maybe even doing some group labor activity at someone’s home. Camping usually comes into play as well. On really good days, a special event or field trip comes into play; like maybe getting the boat out and getting into a really remote location. Some hunting days we never actually get into the woods but we consider it a good days hunting none the less because of the social aspect of hunting.
Though I’m not a big fan of seeing the sun rise while I’m out in the woods hunting, this is part of enjoying nature. I’m more in tune with the sun setting portions of the hunt. But I’m a team player and if the team wants to be in the woods while it’s still dark, then I’ll try to negotiate for 10am. If that fails, I guess I’m up early bushy eyed and bright tailed (that’s what you get when you get me up before the crack of noon). Of course, I want to see, even if I have no inkling of wanting to kill, what it is that I am hunting. I also enjoy seeing the animals in the woods. By far, my favorite hunting is archery deer. The colors are starting to change, archery doesn’t draw as many people to the woods as deer gun season, and it is quieter and more pristine. I don’t know if it is that I am getting soft, but I really don’t care if I kill anything anymore (well there are things I want to kill but there are no licenses and for that and it is illegal to kill people). Generally, I take my bow and a camera into the woods with me (along with a 9 course buffet).
And there’s something about taking nap in nature, nestled up against a big ol’ oak tree that just says comfy, relaxing and that you’re in God’s hands. Of course if you’re in bear country, the nap may not be that relaxing as every sounds puts you onto alert for that hungry grizzly. I want to note though that relaxing also changes into panic when you start your nap about 3pm and you wake up and it is pitch dark. Waking up in the dark in a Sasquatch infested forest turns out to have never had been relaxing and your probably then ready to exchange the comfy of the oak tree to the relief of the comfort station.
When I was younger, besides having to climb 300 feet up into a tree, you never did anything that would distract you from “hunting”. Now days, 20 feet up is pretty high and everyone I know takes at least a book, if not a small library, with them into the woods to do their hunting. Now days, we look around or scan for our prey compared to the glaring brand we would put onto the entire woods around us hunting yester year style.
And of course there’s the good food when hunting. I’m just talking about when you get back to camp. I’m talking about the 9 course meals carried into the woods with us. Sure, the camp fixin’s is great, but 3 pounds of snacking beef jerky while your in the stand is pretty dang nice. The 2 bags of “fun size” candy bars that was to tide you over until later in your ground blind (your hunting buddies know what you’ve been up to because of all the little wrappers laying inside your blind). Or the cool meals fixed on your back packing stove set that you have to use at least once a year because you have it. This is all fun and good stuff.
This is what hunting is folks. Actually bagging game isn’t hunting. That is work, especially when it comes to the field dressing, cleaning and butchering of the game. I enjoy hunting.
**Why do they call those little bitty candy bars in the bags “fun sized”? Fun sized candy bar should be a single bar weighing close to three pounds. That would be a fun size!!
Last updated on June 21, 2021
The Man'Cade; not a Man Cave but a Man Arcade. (Have a gang, group, gaggle or wad of people? Make sure you read the information after the machines).
Like many a boy and young man of the 80's, I enjoyed arcade games. 1942, Defender, Spy Hunter, and the vector graphics Star Wars were among my favorite single player games. Ninja Gaiden (3-players), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (4-players), Rampage (3-players), Gauntlet (4-players), the Terminator (2-player) and Akari Warriors (2-players) were among my favorite multiplayer games that I played with (and eventually someone would back stab) then against my friends. Cooperative games were my favorite.
Thank goodness the origina;l arcades were air conditioned. Many might consider them chilly but I wouldn't go that far though I do seem to recall some arcades doubling as florists and mortuaries.
Of course, if I would have just had a killzillion quarters at one time, it would have been cheaper to just have bought the games and brought them home to have for keeps.
Fortunately, with the help of death of Arcade rooms in malls which has left many of the old machines to collectors like me, the rebirth of 2/3rd's sized arcade machines (Arcade1up), and emulators such as MAME and RetroPie, people can afford to have their own classic arcade rooms in their homes. Even Virtual Pinball machines are available now days; complete with tilt. Not exactly the same feel as a real pinball machine but it is pretty fun.
I hope to soon be starting on setting up full sized, linked up, racing games.
Below are some pictures of my Man'Cade.
Akari Warriors is my only true Arcade machine. Not only is it the original full arcade size, but it also has the original PCM motherboard as well as a real Cathode Ray tube monitor inside )the the flicker you see in the photograph). What really sets this game apart from all others, except for a couple by the same company, is the joysticks; they were rotating so that you could move one direction while firing in another direction. It was also the first game to allow the players to enter vehicles and continue their destruction.
This is a sit down version of Star Wars; A New Hope (yea!), the Empire Strikes Back (pretty good) and Return of the Jedi (why did this ever make it to the arcade?). A New Hope and Empire Strikes Back employed vector graphics. Return of the Jedi uses raster graphics. Arcade1Up designed this sit down version as well as a stand up and what really is the icing on the cake is the controller. It feels very much like the real arcade version from Atari! Hold all four action (fire) buttons down for 5 seconds to exit the current game and return to the main menu.
This is a RetroPie machine. It is a Raspberry Pie computer (about $50) to emulate all of the games. The arcade box is not necessary. You simply need the Raspberry Pie computer, at least one USB controller and a monitor and you have a game machine. The RetroPie is capable of not only emulating real Arcade machines, but also home consoles (like NES, Atari 2600, NeoGeo, etc), hand helds (like the Atatri Lynx, Gamboy, Nintendo DS, etc) and real vintage computers (like the Commodore C64, Amiga, Ataria ST, etc). The Raspberry Pie is an amazing little computer (about the size of 2 playing card decks) for $50 and also makes a great hobbyist computer for robots, sensors, etc.
This particular Arcade1Up machine has 4 very classic and dear games to me. Rampage and Gauntlet are multiplayer games designed to be played mostly cooperatively. After a while though, someone has to Gambrell it and start a back stabbing marathon where it's every player for them selves. Joust is kinda like the mead-evil knight and horse jousting except you do it on what appears to be flying ostriches. All three make for lots of laughs and hours of fun, especially since we don't have to feed the machine quarters. Defender, the 4th game is a solo player game that uses a joystick and 5 or 6 buttons. A lot is going on on screen.
I bought this Arcade1Up machine from a pawn shop. I had two plans for it. First is to play the heck of out of 1944, a game in the same vein as the classic 1942, and second, to rip out the Arcade1Up computer and replace it with a Raspberry Pie computer so that I could put the RetroPie arcade emulator in it and make it more versatile. I haven't removed the original computer yet so it still contains the 1944, Strider, Ghost & Goblins and Final Fight games. The first few Arcade1Up machines did not include the risers (of which this is one) with them which boosts them up to adult level for comfortable play. So we just have to hunker over a bit or set up chairs for lengthy play.
This new entry to the Man'Cade is a Virtual Pinball machine. It uses a low powered Windows (boo) computer to run free pinball software ; Pinball X and Future Pinball. Although I haven't counted them yet, it appears to have about 200 different virtual pinball machines, or boards. 6 buttons is all you need to make one of these, along with the computer 32" or so HDMI screen (for the board, bumpers and such) and a small computer screen to act as the upright scoring screen. A little sensor can be added that will measure tilt. New boards are always being made by a user community and you can make your own as well.
For more information about home Pinball emulators, visit the 'Pinball' accordion on my Software page (or just click this link).
Do you have a group, gang, gaggle or wad of people and looking for something to do? Or do you have middle age restlessness and can;t afford a motorcycle? Well, I might loan you the use of the machines; possibly even the house. It'd be a good way to avoid the heat or the rain, provided we ever get any. Multiplayer games are a good way to get people to interact. And exposing youngun's to classic 80's arcade games and other nostalgia is as important as any other history. Big hair not necessary to play but is preferred!
Last updated on July 23, 2020
I don’t know that I should classify movies as a hobby and may move this to a different area sometime. Also, don’t forget to check out my 3D movie collection and reviews. Maybe I’m not a movie fan, but 3D is pretty cool.
Not surprisingly, I am not a big drama fan. However, I do like a good action adventure with some mystery. Indiana Jones, National Treasure and the like. But these aren’t my favorite.
I like the Star Wars series, though if it wasn’t for my daughter, I wouldn’t like the last three. They just didn’t stay Star Warsie. Rogue One would be my favorite of all the Star Wars movies if it wasn’t for the second half of the Revenge of the Sith with Anikan’s fall and the rise of the Empire. The Star Wars movie were fun and was really enjoyable watching them with the people I did. But it was the computer games that keep Star Wars as one of my favorite things. But alas, they weren’t my favorite. The Clone Wars and Rebels series add to the Star Wars movie universe and sometime fill in some blanks or plot holes.
Action movies, like Die Hard and the James Bond series are great. Nothing like some explosions to help relieve some of your anxiety. Sorry Daniel Craig. You’re a good actor and those James Bond movies of yours good spy movies but they aren’t 007 movies. Not enough gadgets. Bond movies have lots of gadgets. My favorite 007 movies is View to a Kill but it isn’t my favorite movie.
I’m man enough to see chick flicks with chick. It’s been a while. But I’ve seen them. My favorite is Princess Bride. But that’s because it’s a chick flick with humor. Guy and girl humor. But not my favorite, though I have watched it several times over the years. By myself a few times even, I am sad to say guys. By myself I am glad to say girls.
My favorite movies are, and comes as no surprise to many of you, comedies. Robinhood – Men In Tights, Alan Rowland’s Johnny English series, the Naked Gun series, Space Balls, Back to the Future. Comedies with lots of stuff going on that a lot of people don’t get. Even Mr. Bean's Holiday. I love those. Dumb and Dumber was great but didn’t have that hidden stuff appeal. We’re in the right genre now, but these aren’t it.
We’re pretty close to my favorites. Actually, it’s a tie. But they’re related so it isn’t cheating that I don’t narrow it down to one.
Vacation and Christmas Vacation. They are both great and both classics. And people from ever intellect tends to like them. My Mom and Dad do (Randy doesn’t). A little racy for it’s time but nothing now. Of course I watch Christmas Vacation every Christmas; at least once, I also watch Vacation at least once a year.
Last updated on July 20, 2020
I haven’t done much with my photography and videography as of late. My subject material, primarily my daughter and church stuff, doesn’t seem to present itself anymore. So if you look at my albums, you’ll see virtually nothing for 2020 (and the virus/riot stuff really has nothing to do with the a fore mentioned 2 things nor anything else related to my photography) though the previous 10 years are packed with days in which I took pictures. One thing you may notice is that I tend to take a lot of pictures but I seldom actually sit down and process them. Another words, unless it;s something I want to use or I think it is something someone else wants, I don;t bother cropping nor playing with the tones and brightness and such. They're just there in case they are wanted in hte future. Also, I don;t erase pictures. No matter how bad or out of focus or whatever. Why? We'll, when I am working with the groups of pictures and my file-system, it drives me crazy to see gaps in the sequential number of the photos. I have to ask, did I loss some pictures? Did I erase them on purpose or by accident? Did someone else get into my system or camera and get rid of stuff?
For photography, I primarily use Sony equipment. Though I don’t need it, Sony tends to be on the cutting edge of technology and introduce it first into their lineups and the other companies follow suit. I guess I am primarily a Sony person because the first DSLR I purchased happened to be a Sony, and as it was used and the availability was there, I bought it. Because my lens’ fit the Sony lines, I stayed with Sony (yes, I know I could have bought adapters but they introduce their own problems). I have a really good night camera and an attachment that is supposed to help me catch lightning (of which I haven;t been successful yet).
I also have a few video cameras, Sony, Canon and some other makes. I don’t do nearly as much video as I do picture photography.
I also have a slew of other cameras such as GoPro’s and GoPro knockoffs, really small cameras to mount into my planes and such.
I also have a large collection of accessories, though showing their age, for making use of the photography and videography more fun and immersive. Gimbals, rigs and remotes help to make the experience and final product better.
I’ve the equipment to do portrait photography and have done sessions for church and individual families to name but a few. I’ve also the equipment for doing green screening and music videos. We’ve done some for church and LeeAnne and friends have done some as well.
I am by no means an expert in the realms of photography or videography, but if there is something you want to try or want to borrow some equipment, let me know. I’m sure we can figure out how to do it (currently, I am trying to grasp 3D videography; it is more than just filming with a 3D camera and pointing at an object).
Whanna do some videos for your church, group or organization, let’s get together and make it happen. Coupled with my (little) experience in photo and video, my software and hardware inventories for completing a task is pretty complete.
Last updated on Aug 23, 2020
I'm about ready to start putting my Radio Control airplane information in. In the mean time, here is Big Red (my Waco airplane) with Lil' Red (my truck) and myself.
I generally do my flying with my cousins, Scott and Levi. Though dad has shown some interest in it and isn't doing to badly. Lauren, Levi's girlfriend, also think it is pretty cool. The nice thing will be if she takes up the hobby is that the Airplane magazines will no longer be liars; as they always show pretty girls in shorty shorts holding airplanes. In reality, those girls wouldn't be caught dead out on a flight line with a bunch of pudgy over weight men and their geeky hobby. I bought LeeAnne W and Kizzy each a plane but despite wanting them, never flew them. LeeAnne W did fly her helicopter some though.
The club that we belong to is the Monroe County RC club, which is just North of Bloomington and is located on Wiley Road.
I own several planes and have worked with a few people to learn to fly that was interested. The training planes that I use are typically pretty small and we used the baseball and accompanying field next to the church for people to learn in. If you are interested in learning to fly a plane, helicopter or drone, let me know. My Dad, Vernon W, has recently started to learn how to fly. He doesn;t believe he is doing well, but he is in fct doing very, very well.
I haven’t worked up nerve enough to fly these yet. I just ain’t sure my skills are there. There waiting for me when the day comes.
I’m lying on the ground with them to give an idea of their sizes.
My WW2 warbird collection. The B-25 Mitchell bomber, the P-47 Thunderbolt and the F-4U-1 Corsair. The Mitchell is still a virgin plane.
The P-47 has a 9 channel radio receiver in it that allows me to drop bombs. On a good day, I can hit the ground…. with bombs. On a bad day, I hit the ground with the plane; which brings me to the Corsair.
My Corsair wasn’t in the picture with me as Levi augered it into the ground some time ago (he did the augering but it was my fault as I was playing a joke on him). It was a great performing plane and will be rebuilt in the near future (the corsair in the picture was cut out and pasted into it).
Here is my Aerobatics collection. Technically, the Waco isn’t an Aerobatic plane but a barn stormer or stunt plane.
Surprisingly, I have done a lot of Aerobatics with the small Pitts 1s and never really have damaged it. The large Pitts on the other hand is currently under repair (hmmm, seems to be a running theme if you look across my collections; at least one plane is under repair in each it seems).
I have managed 6 simultaneous rolls with the small Pitts about 15’ or less above the ground. I guess you could say that I fly on a wing and a prayer.
Last updated on July 20, 20202
Some say I’m just a big kid at heart. I don’t know why everyone doesn’t say that. I try to make everything that I am involved with fun and entertaining as well as use and productive.
So where do remote control cars fit in with my mentality? Well, they certainly are fun and entertaining. Besides getting enjoyment out of driving or controlling one, there is a lot of entertainment value in watching some else learn to drive a RC vehicle.
So how do you make RC cars useful and productive? As with pretty much everything I own, I look at it as God is using me to manage that item. So I use the cars to help foster continuity in Youth Groups. And since fellowship is a key aspect of Christianity, then using my cars for this is very productive.
The big problem with a group of people running RC cars is having enough batteries to power the cars. Since it takes 25 – 30 times longer to charge a battery than it does to run it out, it isn’t very much fun to run a battery down than wait 90 minutes to be able to run the car again.
So it is pretty easy to equal the expense in batteries as you have in cars, perhaps exceed that expense.
Another problem that also occurs with RC groups is that people modify their cars so that not everybody is playing on the same level. By my owning and controlling the cars, I insure that all the motors and transmissions are the same etc. No one gets an advantage by hopping their vehicle up. This works best for groups when borrowing my stuff.
I have several Traxxas Stampede trucks. I chose this truck because of the high ground clearance and because they are water-proof. Knowing that people that weren’t good at controlling the cars would likely end up in the grass, I wanted a vehicle that gave the person the best opportunity to be able to drive it back out of the grass. Low clearance and you can pretty much figure on new drivers chasing their car down constantly and putting it back on track. This takes away from some of the fun in my opinion. These trucks are not very suited for driving indoors. All of these can be operated at the same time.
I also have some Animais cars. These are low clearance 4x4 cars and can be driven not only outdoors but inside, due to their smaller size. 6 of these can run at the same time.
I also have what are called Coke Can cars. These are Hot Wheeled sized cars that fit, along with the controller, into a container about the size of a Coke can. I have 6 different frequencies for these cars so 6 of them can run at once. They are small enough to run on a table top.
Parts for Traxxaz and Animais aren’t terribly expensive. Working on them can be especially if you have gorilla sized hands and fingers like I have. I usually ask that people help me repair the stuff that gets broken. This not only helps get the stuff repaired in a timely manner, but is an opportunity for people to learn some technical and mechanical skills.
I don’t generally get upset if something gets broken unless it is due to abuse. Playing smash up derby, seeing how high it jump, how many carts wheels it can perform, etc, typically falls into the category of abuse as does letting the vehicles get stepped on or run over.
Some pictures to be added soon.
Last updated on Aug 24, 2020
Well, something will soon 'force' it's way here? It may or may not, there is no definite, certainly, try I will not.
Last updated on July 23, 2020
Like my Movies category, I’m not sure that I should classify TV as a hobby though a lot of people do.
I can remember many years ago when Tool Time came out. It was funny. My family had a lot of good laughs out of it because Rusty was almost as bad as Tim on the show. Especially when it came to electricity.
About that same time, an obscure show came out and guess who found it? Yep me. It was the Red/Green show. Red and I were more alike than Tim and Rusty. Tim, and Rusty, had the right stuff (equipment and parts) but couldn’t make them work. Red and I had the wrong stuff for the job, and made it work.
But my family came to love the Red Green show nearly as much as I did. Alter my extended family and friends had become fans. And finally, I stared noticing fans all around, though they usually don’t pronounce it.
I especially liked the Adventure with Bill segment followed closely by Handy Man’s corner. I forget the Ranger’s name that was always on fire lookout but once they made his segment into a cartoon, it became great (mediocre most of the time prior to that).
Of course the Looney Toons cartoons would be among my favorite. Bugs, Taz and Marvin the Martin of course. Star Gat SG1 was a great series. How I met Your Mother, Tool Time, Rules of Engagement, Beverly Hillbillies, New Radio, and Wings. All good.
Fall Guy, Knight Rider, and the Six Million Dollar man were fun too.
I just finished up 2 seasons of Star Trek Discovery on the CBS All Access and it was phenomenal. Good stories, decent acting, great special effects and GREAT SETS. It was visually stunning. I was really thinking of going with this series (I haven’t watched any of Picard yet).
But I think my favorite TV over the years has been Smallville.
I’m not a Superman fan but they did a good job (until the 10th season) of storytelling with Superman growing up and learning his powers. It was a fun series though not funny. And for the time, the special effects were good. However, they were good decent well written stories.
And since I’m on Superman, Again, not a big fan, but the movie Man of Steel in 3D was incredible. Unlike the other Superman movies of TV series, this one tore things up. When Superman hits or gets hit, asphalt is tore up where they skidded down the road. It was cool. And awesome in 3d. Probably the best 3D movie I have.
Last updated on Aug 24, 2020
Who doesn’t love the Veggietales?
Well, let’s leave out that little period when some other company bought them and they just made a cartoon with the Veggietale characters. I am one f the biggest adult Veggietale fan around.
OK, so now who doesn’t love the Veggietales? I’m probably their biggest adult fan. Besides the good moral lessons and funny children’s cartoon antidote, there is a bunch of adult humor in them. Let me clarify; clean adult humor.
There isn’t much here at the moment but I’ll get content in here in the next few days.
Bottom
Last updated on Aug 23, 2020
I guess I will be removing the vacations portion of the website.
I had to fight Julie for unfettered access to LeeAnne W, which the judge told her she had no right to do and to immediately stop. So 3 years after our divorce, LeeAnne and I were able to enjoy out first vacation together. Or at least I thought we were enjoying our time together. Apparently not, she wanted to spend no time with me the last three summers, though we did get about 10 days in in 2018 and a whopping 7 days in 2019.
This summer, though Julie no longer makes the schedules as LeeAnne W is 18, LeeAnne spent about 2 hours over three different days. She couldn’t find even a day to spend with me even though she isn’t working and the virus restrictions are holding her down. In fact, she couldn’t even find half a day to spend with me. She couldn’t even find time for us to go out and eat together, or return my calls, texts or messages. Couldn’t call me on my birthday or communicate with me or grandpa Vernon in any fashion on father’s day or even his birthday.
I guess it was stupid to fight for her; to fight to spend time together and try to demonstrate my love to her. Not only does she not want anything to do with me but no one in my family; including her grandparents.
I love her so much. I guess she’ll never know how much. I guess she doesn’t care how much. She probably doesn’t know how much she has hurt my family and especially me. I doubt she cares.
So I guess there’s no reason to have vacations up here. They hurt too much to finish compiling into the website. They hurt too much to even have on the website. And she’s not interested in the pictures from the vacations as she wasn’t interested in getting with me to go over my photo collection to choose what she wanted to display at her graduation celebration.
Vacations, family vacations, are and have always been extremely important to me. Going on a trip without my family may be enjoyable but to me it isn’t a vacation.
It’s not that I find vacations relaxing per say, but because it gives me the needed time to build or strengthen the relationships I need with my immediate family. I wouldn’t trade my family vacation time for anything. The Great Smokey Mountains is one my favorite place to go. Not only do I have many good memories as an adult from there, I have them from childhood while visiting with my parents and one special trip while on leave from the Army.
It has always been enjoyable when we could meet up with others and share our vacation time. We would still be able to get the relationship building time by doing some things on our while doing other activities as a group.
I was able to do this with my cousins in my youth; one time even my girlfriend was able to join us on a trip. As the head of my own family, I was able to arrange for all of my brothers and their families and my parents along with Julie’s family to go to Florida for a week. It was a really great time. To top it off, it was the year that the Pacers went to the finial. It was lots of fun watching them together.
Anyhow, below are the vacations I have records of that I can share with you.
**Note** I currently only have three listed but there are many more. Browse back by to see them.
More to come.
Florida over Spring Break
While LeeAnne and I still get the proper amount of time that we should have, we did to take a nice vacation to one of our favorite spots, The Great Smokey Mountains.
This is the first time that she camped in the mountains, though camping is how I always spent the time in the mountains as a kid with my parents.
We asked my father to join us and he did. We all thought that this would be the last time he would get to go on a vacation, but was pleasantly surprised when we was healthy enough to go again next year. Of course the real factor was that Mom was healthy enough to not need dad to watch over her closely.
You can see the adventures of our trip in the 2018 gallery from the dates of June 27 - July 3.
As is our custom, we took a picture in front of the entrance sign to the mountains. You can see it below. ** Note ** - I needed to replace the image with a modified one. Sorry for any inconvenience. Contact me if you would like to see the original.
As usual, LeeAnne and I didn't get all the time that we were supposed to this year.
Last year, i only got 1 half day with her over spring break. There reasoning was that she was working. This year, I got one day but they took the rest of the week and went to Florida because if they didn't go, they would loose their week of time share.. Last year, I didn't get any time with LeAnne over fall break and this year, they went to Florida again because they received a free week. I guess them receiving a free week trumps us spending time together.
This summer, we only got one week together. They signed her up for a college summer school course because it would be cheaper than actual college and probably easier also. Of course they did this without consulting me. Then, after the course was over, I found out that the course was a distance learning course. She could have come to our home to do it but, not wasn't going to happen because Julie couldn't keep control of LeeAnne that way. And stupid me, I didn't ask when it would be over because I assumed it was summer school. So after the class was finished, they went off to TKD camp. I found out about that when I was told the day before that LeeAnne would be going for a belt the next day and I could come up and watch. And due tot he short notice, I couldn't spend any time with her that afternoon/evening because I had obligations at church with VBS. Had they told me of it earlier, and that she would have the afternoon/evening free, I may have been able to make arrangements for me to miss VBS that evening.
Anyhow, no make time for any of the breaks or holidays from this year or last year. I asked for it and was flatly refused.
We did get to spend one good week together this summer. And for the first time, LeeAnne took a friend with her on the vacation. We took Kizzy and went back to the Great Smokey Mountains. You can see all the adventures of this trip hy looking at the 1999 photo gallery from July 5 - 11.. My father also went and expect that this would probably be the last trip he would ever be able to go on. It was a pleasure to have them both along.
That was the only trip we were able to take and basically the last time I have seen LeeAnne for any time. She was hurt sometime after school started with a concussion. At least four days later, her new Dad called to make sure I knew. Of course, they didn't tell me when it happened so I could go to the hospital, or let me know after the hospital so I could to the specialist. 4 days later. Thanks guys. They only time I have ever been told of a doctor appointment since we divorced was when it interfered with our time together.
LeeAnne was to tired to come and spend time with me or the Grand Waldrips of Thanksgiving and we didn't see, hear or even get a message from her over Christmas break except one lone text message that said "Merry Christmas" It wasn't very merry without her. In fact, Thanksgiving was the last time we have talked. Mom and dad said that she talked briefly Christmas Eve when they called (it may have been Christmas Day).
Here is a picture of the 4 of us in front of the entrance sign to The Great Smokey Mountains. My family has gotten a picture of all us boys in front of it every time we came to the Smokeys and I have carried on the tradition.
Here's a collection of trucks I have known.
1981 Mazda B2000
1988 Ford Ranger
1998 Ford F150
2003 F250 Diesel
1986 RC Truck
This is pretty close to my Dream Truck.
My Dream Truck would be black with a Gold Chrome trim.
But this would be a close runner up.
This isn't all but it's a start.
Contents of this tab have been removed.
Last updated on July 22, 2020
Anybody that knows me knows it’s a sad day when you need to look to Roger on how to dress.
Pants down around your knee? No! chaps for pants? Just chaps; nothing under them? No! Definitely not, at least not outside the bedroom. Fishnet tops? Even though some can pull this look off, the resounding answer is NO! Spandex? For 99% of the population, No Way!
It may be that my visual palette isn’t as refined as others so to know what matches, but certainly mine is acute enough to know what not to wear.
Anyhow, I’ll get more on “My Wardrobe” in here later. For now just know that if you see a large diameter circular object in my front pocket it is not (A) a Skoal can or (B) a prophylactic. It is simply my way good professional level pocket camera, which can be found in my right front pocket.
Clothing will show up shortly.
Last updated on July 24, 2020
I think that maybe I used to enjoy wearing ties. I’m not sure. Certainly though, anytime I wore a tie, or wear a tie, it is probably going to stand out.
I don’t wear them much these days. But here is my collection. They’re conventionally number in case you are attending an event with me and want a certain one worn (of course, there’s no guarantee that I will the requested tie).
Though it had a fairly good reason to exist (essentially it was a bib, there really isn’t much of a need for a tie now days other than to hold to a form of traditional look. I’ll conform and play along. But if I HAVE to wear a tie, people are going to know that I’m wearing a tie.
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