LAST CALL

Yesterday, after a warm game of horseshoes (which I won, by the way, 22-14), Big Bore and I reminisced about the year gone by.

"What was your favorite day of 2010?" I asked.

"When I had the hamburger at Estes Park," he said.

"Why that?"

"Because it was the same day we hiked to Gem Lake. I was never so glad to get back to the car! But I'd love to do it again. It was such a pretty area."

"That was my favorite day, too!" I said, although the hamburger had nothing to do with it.

As exhausting as it was, that hike was so beautiful that it will always be etched into my mind. I think this picture basically says it all. Thank-you, God, for this glorious day. ---So long, 2010. Happy trails in 2011.

CATCHING UP

Since my ailing PC was in the shop for much of December, I didn't get to download any of the digital pictures I took during that time. Now that all systems are up and running, I'm going to belatedly show some of them today. Above is the winter solstice lunar eclipse of December 21st. Not exactly like what I was hoping for, but at least you can see the shadow. I will be 145-years old when the next one of these appears.

Our Christmas "tree."

We brought home a bag of big pine cones from our Colorado trip in October, and I stuck some of them in a wreath. These are home-grown Estes Park cones.

I finally learned how to make a wreath bow, but it wasn't from the E-Z Bow Maker I purchased for $9.99 (see Dec. 3 entry). We were driving by the local greenhouse a few days after my dilemma began, and the sign out front read, "Stop in any time and learn to make bows." Hallelujah! A message from heaven! I bopped on in and learned to make bows by my own handy-dandy hands! Here's my very first one. So much for the E-Z Bow Maker. For sale. Cheap.

THE ONE AND OWN-LY!!!

T-minus three days and counting before the Queen of Talk launches her own television network called, appropriately, OWN: Oprah Winfrey Network!! Leave it up to Oprah to come up with cute initials.

Now, I quit watching Oprah’s syndicated talk show years ago once her shouting voice hit 1-katrillion decibels. My sorry ears just couldn’t take the assault anymore. That, plus all the drama just doesn’t appeal to me. I’d rather watch game shows. But, I admire Oprah’s income and if she wants to start her own TV network, then more power to her--except she’s not really starting her own network from the ground up. She’s just taking over what is now Discovery Health Network and stamping her name to it.

OWN is going to be on 24-7. It will have some of the old Oprah stand-bys like Dr. Phil (also known as Dr. Full--of Himself) and Dr. Oz. I’m not sure if she is still pals with Dr. Green, her diet guru, since she’s back to being Fat Oprah, but everyone knows that we all like Fat Oprah better than Thin Oprah, anyway. Otherwise, she’d be perfect, and no one likes perfection. Perfection is not good for the TV ratings. Viewers like to see Oprah cry in her size 24s.

I suspect I will watch a few of OWN’s new shows. There’s one with an intriguing title that I may check out: “In the Bedroom: Sex Therapy with Dr. Laura Berman.” Personally, however, if Oprah is going to play the sex angle I wish she had gone after the unflappable Sue Johanson, an 80-year-old nurse who is the hostess of “Talk Sex with Sue.” She will say ANYTHING, god love her, because anyone who has lived to be 80 can just blurt out whatever the heck is on her mind. She’s earned the right. Sue just loves to talk about sex toys and even shows viewers how they work. (Big Bore says I’m exaggerating. Imagine that. He asked me to clarify: “She doesn’t show how they work on HER!!”) Be that as it may; if Laura is half as hilarious as Sue, her show will be a hit. Just like Oprah Winfrey Network, of course.

At 12 AM Saturday I’m going to greet the new year by inserting my earplugs and tuning in to Oprah’s new channel, and I expect to see her proclaiming, “I OWN the WOOOORLD! in her patented Oprah shout. Steadman and Gayle will be there to crown her Queen of the Planet Earth Airwaves. Maybe Queen of the entire Milky Way Galaxy. Oh, it just will be tear-jerking Oprah-iffic!! If I can OWN-ly wait!
　
　
　
　

GRITTY

Howdy pahd-ners! Last week my sidekick Big Bore and I giddy-upped out west to the city to see the re-make of True Grit, and yee-haw! This here movie was a rootin’ tootin’ good time!

Okay, so much for the hokey cowboy vernacular. Let’s get to the review. True Grit is the story of a feisty 14-year-old Arkansas girl, Mattie Ross, seeking to avenge her father’s shooting death at the hands of the no-good Tom Chaney. She tags along into Indian territory with two lawmen who couldn’t be more polar opposite.

Texas Ranger La Boeuf, portrayed by Matt Damon, is a handsome no-nonsense type who is not about to have Mattie slow down the chase. On the other hand, grizzled marshal Rooster Cogburn, played by Jeff “The Dude” Bridges in the role made famous by John “The Duke” Wayne, is a boozy loser who secretly admires Mattie's stubborn determination to overcome the obstacles in her way.

Since Big Bore and I are fans of the original movie, we couldn’t help but make comparisons with this new version, which we liked even more. This True Grit of forty years later is grittier, as in graphic, but not overly so, and the settings are better. The pigtailed young actress who plays Mattie, Hailee Steinfield (why isn't she given credit on the movie poster?), is much more believable than the original’s Kim Darby because she actually is just a kid. Damon puts in his usual solid performance, and Bridges more than holds his own to Wayne’s award-winning role as Cogburn. He’s not as bigger-than-life blustery and doesn’t try to steal every scene as Wayne tended to do. This is Mattie's story, not Rooster's.

Out of the 4-Star Flaming Bore scoring system, I give this movie 3-1/2 flames. I suggest you mosey on over to your closest theatre to see it, but be sure to leave your six-shooter at home.

　
　
　
　
　
　

THE LIGHTS ON BROADWAY

Here's a Christmas Eve shot from the car while we driving down beautiful downtown Pittsburg, Kansas.

GROUP SHOT!

Back when I was a school yearbook adviser, I absolutely dreaded group photo days. (My blog readers Tara, Sarah, Angela, and Dusti will be shouting, "Amen!" since they were on staff and know how royally bonkers I would get.) There were sooooooo many hassles: kids who showed up late, the clueless who couldn't line up by height, inappropriate messages on T-shirts, slouchy postures, funny faces, "rabbit ears" behind heads, and, the cardinal sin of all yearbook pictures: middle fingers popping up where middle fingers shouldn't be. It was enough to drive me to early retirement!

So, you'd think I would know better than to try to round up my four great nephews and my great niece for a cousins picture on Christmas Day. Right? But old habits die hard, and when I found them all semi-close together, I grabbed my camera and started lining them up. "Bo, you sit down in the chair since you're so much taller than the others. Maddie, you stand next to Bo. Luke, stand on Maddie's other side, and Boomer, you stand in front and between Maddie and Luke." The older four were pretty easy to deal with, but the baby William had a squirmy little mind of his own. He wasn't taking directions, of course, so I told Bo to pick him up, and soon we were ready to go. That was the easy part.

Now for the hard part: getting everybody to look at the camera and smile at the exact time I shot the picture---and I wasn't going to be able to get very many shots because Will was ready to blast off at any second. Oh, lord. First shot, Will wasn't looking at the camera. Shot two: Maddie had her eyes closed. Shot three: Boomer had his eyes half closed. Shot four: Maddie and Luke were looking to the side. Shot five: Maddie was wiping her nose. Shot six: oh, there was no shot six because Sweet William had wriggled away from Bo's clutches. End of photo shoot.

The good news: no one flipped off the photographer.

COURTROOM DRAMA

Last week a judge friend of mine celebrated his upcoming retirement in the district courtroom at our local courthouse.

"Gee!" I told the judge. "I don't think I've been in this courtroom since I was called for jury duty in the Bobby Gene Parker trial (name changed to protect the guilty.)

Bobby Gene had (allegedly, of course) whipped up on his wife and shot down two officers who had reported to a domestic dispute call. Fortunately, all the victims survived, but Bobby Gene was still in a world of trouble.

I first heard about the case when a well-known TV news reporter from the city accidentally called my home phone number, which is similar to the local newspaper's.

"Have you heard about the shooting in town?" he asked.

"Where?"

When he told me the address, I about flipped. "Why, that's just four blocks from here!"

Now, I wasn't about to go ambulance chasing, but I did call the neighbors to make sure their kids weren't out on their bikes after school. A helicopter was soon chopping overhead, and our town was the top story on the evening news. Long story short, Bobby Gene surrendered his angry ass when the house was surrounded by every sheriff's officer and highway patrolman within a 50-mile radius, so it seemed. Oh, it was the talk of the town for weeks.

Fast forward to the trial. I was one of a gazillion people in the county summoned for jury duty. Actually, as I recall 100 people were there on the first day--standing room only in the hallway and quite the social affair. We eventually were ushered into the courtroom to take a multi-page questionnaire, mainly about domestic abuse, firearms, and the legal system. I was all too happy to fill it out because I love to write and be opinionated and there were some open-ended questions. By the time I finished, every line and margin was filled--an essay of epic proportions--so I was quite proud of myself.

My goal was to be dismissed ASAP and get back to school, but we had to sit around and wait for the lawyers to look over the questionnaires, which went well into the afternoon. We were finally called back to the courtroom, and in groups of 10 we were instructed what to do. Many were immediately dismissed, others told to stay for Round Two, and my group was called back to the judge's office. Well, crap. What was that about? Was I going to get yelled at for writing so much?

"The judge has a few more questions for you," his secretary told us. So, individually, we were escorted into his chamber for the inquisition.

When it came my turn, I was surprised to see not only the judge but also lots of other men, including the prosecuting attorney, the defense attorney, some deputy sherrifs, and--dum, de, dum, dum--Bobby Gene himself--cuffed and looking none too happy to be there, just like me.

"We have a few questions to ask you about your responses," the kindly judge said.

The main drift of their interrogation was why I was so certain that Bobby Gene was guilty as charged, especially since I wasn't an eyewitness. I don't recall how many times I'd written in the questionnaire that I thought he was guilty, but it was enough to get my point across that I had no doubt and could not serve on his jury with an open mind.

"Well, I've seen the TV news reports, read the newspaper accounts, and talked to neighbors who saw Mr. Parker get arrested. Who else could have done it?"

More questions. More responses that were questions back to them. "Well, if he didn't do it, then who did? Who else was in that house?"

Finally, they'd heard enough. I was dismissed from the list of prospective jurors and was free to go on my merry way, unlike someone else sitting in the room.

A few days later I had a chance encounter with one of my former students, a sheriff's deputy, who laughingly told me what a great job I'd done in the judge's chamber.

"I didn't see you there," I told him.

"Oh, I was in the judge's restroom listening to the whole thing. You didn't back down like most of the people they questioned."

"Well, they were the smart ones who knew better to keep their flapping mouths shut. Bobby Gene was probably scrawling out notes with his handcuffs about that smart ass who thought he was guilty."

An unbiased jury WAS finally seated and, lo and behold, Bobby Gene was found guilty by those people, too. I don't know if he's still in prison or not. This all happened more than 10 years ago. Heck, maybe 15. Time goes by so fast when you're not behind bars. But I didn't see him lurking around at the judge's retirement reception last week, so that's a good sign.

Dec. 24 addendum: Well, I checked the Kansas Department of Corrections website, and Bobby Gene isn't up for parole until 2037, so I think I'm safe a while longer.