2 Hunnert - This Life

Looking back
Two hundred posts on this blog
Reflections, near and far term
Of one life, just one life is all

The essence of life... mine
The mistakes of life... mine
The achievements of life... mine
The mistakes...
Ah, the mistakes...

I did not imagine this
It happened
I did not deserve this
It happened anyway

I just stepped off the curb
Without looking
And there it was
Life...large and in my face

So I wrote about those close to me
Testimonials to our family of four
Testimonials to our goldy, Molly
Testimonials to friends
Testimonials about the human condition

Right now... I feel the love of family
As they laugh and talk
While preparing Christmas dinner
I peeled the spuds - that was enough
Love is warm

We're not done.
We. Are. Not. Done.
There's more to say
Until there's life, no more.

To all who see this; Merry Christmas

Herding Cats (Julieann and Her Lefties)

Julieann Marie Campbell
Receiving  Air Force Certificate of Appreciation 

I asked her recently
If she had ever though of herself
As beautiful
She was surprised, and answered "No".

Then I showed her a photo
Taken of her when we left the Air Force
Years ago and said, "See"?
She remained surprised

*****

Once she said she regretted

That she had not completed college
I said, "Are you kidding?

You have four college degrees
One in Economics
A Masters in Health Care Administration
Another degree in Digital Media
And this coming Spring a degree in Philosophy"

The point being there likely would be no degrees
In our family were it not for her
Her energy, her optimism and her belief in all of us
Brought us to this point

She has been corralling three lefties all this time...
Like herding cats right?!

*****

In recent years I have noticed, and admired

Her sense of things is to give way in deference

To oncoming traffic 

On foot, in cars, in conversation... in everything

Her time is yours, in all things

I wish I was more like that

I wish we all were more like that

To step back, to let another in, to listen

Note:  This is my 200th post in the past four years.  Without Julieann Marie Campbell there would be zero - as in no posts. That is a fact - I am so fortunate to be able to do something like this, that I love... and to be with someone I love.  I'm not sure she is done racking up college degrees either!

Get a Job(s)

Yup.. that's a little adaptation of the title
From the old Fifty's hit by The Silhouettes

But this is really about today
Right now
As we 'speak'... so to speak...

Its about the best nonfiction book I have ever read
And why you should 'Get' one
Its about the best company for customers that perhaps has ever existed
Its about the man behind it all

Yes its Steve Jobs and its his biography by Walter Isaacson

Do you have to be an Apple fanatic to appreciate the story?
Nope.
Do you have to be a management expert to appreciate the seeming contradictions in his philosophy?

Photo from the book's cover

Nope.

Neither attribute would hurt but I am convinced...
If you like to read you will love this book

Now I'll confess, I am left-handed...
Therefore by definition I am a dreamer
As a result I have always leaned toward fiction

Haven't read much non-fiction... nope
But this... this book is proof that truth can be stranger than fiction
That truth can be just as intriguing as fiction

Okay, I am done fawning here
Lets move on to a few (just three) excerpts
That prompt me to add my $.02 worth

On the use of PowerPoint;

"I hate the way people use slide presentations instead of thinking," Jobs... recalled.  "People (at Apple) would confront a problem by creating a presentation.  I wanted them to engage, to hash things out at the table, rather than show a bunch of slides.  People who know what they're talking about don't need PowerPoint."

$.02 worth: He had just returned to Apple and was trying to review product lines.  He quickly realized how the company had turned bureaucratic, had too many products and was too confusing to customers.  He wanted them to engage each other and focus... PowerPoint wasn't (isn't) the answer.


On packaging;

(He understood) that people do judge a book by its cover... and therefore (made) sure all the trappings and packaging of Apple signaled that there was a beautiful gem inside.

Compact, precise and conveniently packed
inside and out... through and through

$.02 worth: If you have never seen the box iPhones come in they are something to behold.  I have a photo here but the real thing needs to be experienced to appreciate.  I have boxes from two iPhone models on the shelf in my office. To me, they represent the finest packaging I have ever seen.  If he wanted someone to feel there was "a beautiful gem" inside it worked. The look, the quality of construction, the fit... everything about it.  It is a classic.

On Setting Realistic (limiting) Objectives;

Jobs would stand in front of a whiteboard (he loved whiteboards because they gave him complete control of a situation and they engendered focus) and ask, "What are the ten things we should be doing next?"  People would fight to get their suggestions on the list, Jobs would write them down, and then cross off the ones he decreed dumb.  After much jockeying, the group would come up with a (prioritized) list of ten.  Then Jobs would slash the bottom seven and announce, "We can only do three."

$.02 worth: This is a spin-off from an old management adage that suggests during a  limited, 3-5 year tenure a top exec should limit objectives to five (Jobs liked three).  The point, whether three or five or something within reach, is right on target in my not-so-humble estimation.


Jobs was not without fault in his relationships with others and he apparently wasn't afraid to admit it.  On the other hand, he was a genius at knowing what people (we) wanted before they (we) knew it ourselves.  He was a 'product first, customer first' type person before bottom-line profit. The beauty of this philosophy was and is that profits followed... big-time.  If only more companies were like this today. 

Simplicity and quality
Beginning to end
That's all
That's everything
That was Steve Jobs
RIP Steve... you have changed our lives forever
Walter, you did a damn fine job too, thanks

Gimme' An M!...

Gimme an R!
Gimme an I!
Gimme an M. R. I.!
What's that spell?!

 Nothing.

Its an acronym
For Magnetic Resonance Imaging
Or what I like to now refer to as
A day in the looney bin.

You see I 'got this hearing loss
It all started in '72
When ultra patient wife Julie, brother Dave and I
Attended a rock concert
At the Los Angeles Forum
Iron Butterfly and Canned Heat

The sound engineer must have been on something that day
When we left my ears were ringing
And haven't stopped since
No problem, pretty easy to get used to...
But other noise since and aging
Have compounded things
To the point where "What?" is by far the most common word in my vocabulary

An ENT doc & pal from our soccer daughter's past experiences
Thought it would be good to check my head with an MRI
See if anything is there
(Many of you believe there isn't I know)
So I was off to get my head examined
(As many of you have requested in the past)

Fast forward to exam room...

Exactly as I was positioned
Note Lady Gaga apparatus over head
I was ready to sing "Edge Of Glory"
White object is mirror so patient (me)
Can see tech in room behind machine

The tech was friendly.
Got me quickly positioned with head in restraints
(As many of you have long hoped)
Positioned a Lady Gaga Memorial plastic face over me
Then crammed plugs in my ears & continued explaining things
"I can't hear you at all now" She just gave me a knowing smile
I picked up "...half hour", "...don't move", and few other tidbits anyway

As the machine crammed me into this giant tube my last words were; "2001, space Odyssey!"
She smiled again for me
Okay, okay I was desperate to break the tension with a little lame humor
My tube was snug-on-shoulders cozy
And I thought...I'm kinda' like human toothpaste right now!
Hope nobody squeezes it...

Then, a cacophony of loud frickin' noises hit my space capsule
First the sounds of a circular saw making passes at... My head?
Next a jackhammer... rhythmic and persistent
Then a klaxon (What? The hard hats taking a break already?)
And then, in "dueling banjos" fashion a klaxon and a hammer tapping some metal object,
All of them were in sevens; seven tolls of the klaxon followed by seven blows of the hammer

Finally at the end of the first round Klaxon II went off...
Louder and more persistent, it made me want to shout "All hands on deck!" and maybe "Abandon ship!"
...except I was never in the Navy so I kept quiet
Then, 15 minutes in, came the injection she had mentioned
"Contrast agent" she had called it
I thought it might in fact be some sort of shape altering substance

So I was laying there.. waiting for my eye teeth to grow longer... Much longer
Instead we made mashed potatoes... at least that is what it seemed like
It was the muffled sound of an electric mixer working partly mashed potatoes
And tapping against the side of an aluminum pan...
Ok maybe it was stainless steel

Trip over...
Gimme another M!
Gimme another...nah, never mind.

Turtle Summit II

The scene of TS II
They met for breakfast
So they ate the flower
(click on photo to enlarge)

They met again, innocently enough
Near the pool
'Neath the shadows of the fruitless mulberry

And the palms of Molly's grotto

"Why the centerpiece?" the littlest turtle asked
"We can't see each other
Around that flower pot."

The elder turtle replied; "That pot is in the middle.
A place we are all looking for
It is right in front of us... 

Yet some of us can't see it

Some of us want less corporate influence over government
Some of us went less government influence over corporations

We adopt these positions as avowed members of the left, and right respectively
We refuse to see that there is balance in the middle

That corporations must have a voice in politics
Otherwise government will regulate them to extinction

That government must have a voice in business
Otherwise corporations will drive the middle class to extinction

In history little turtle, we have seen that corporations left unchecked
Will ultimately ignore their social contract and drain the resources that feed them...
People, air, water, highways, railroads... all the things they need for long term prosperity
It is almost like they are trying to see which will be the last company that remains...
When the last breath of air, the last drop of water, the last road and finally
The last person... is gone."

"We have also seen that governments can deteriorate into ineffective bodies
Governments that focus on winning far beyond the point where they remember what it was they were fighting for
Governments that knee-jerk to wars, that bankrupt their children, that are willing puppets of special interests

It is like they are saying "Tomorrow is not my responsibility, I must not give an inch today.
When faced with reason, I must equivocate.
When faced with truth, I must deny."

The little turtle said; "But elder... is there a way to change our government and corporations
So that they see what must be done
So that they act to give us young ones the same opportunities they had?"

"There is," said the elder turtle.

"But the way is difficult
All of us turtles must become active
We must give voice to these causes... both left and right
We must insist on balancing the social contract

If you think about it little turtle,
You can see the turtles on your left, and your right
Around the flower pot

They are good turtles, just like you
They will listen, you just need to speak

You need to remind them of historical precedent
You need to remind them of the moral compass
That made them, their corporations and their politicians great

This reminder, coming from little turtles and common turtles,
To all big turtles with shells tough as nails
Has happened before
Its time for it to happen again"

Turtle Summit III

They gathered again at Molly's grotto...

"Fellow Turtles", the elder said
"Lately I have been thinking about
Some tenets of democracy, that is,
Checks and balances versus the slippery slope of greed
I believe freedom must have bounds or a society cannot peacefully exist, or prosper
For us, the tricky part is where to draw the boundaries..."

He went on to say; "What does it mean when the common turtle is subjected to mandatory drug testing in order to draw welfare, as it is in Florida... especially when the incidence is so low while the program costs for taxpayers is so high?

If this is justified, and the incidence of crime is higher than the incidence of drug abuse, why would we not next subject the poor (or all of us?) to wearing electronic monitoring devices so we can prevent crime?

Yes, it is a slippery slope my brothers of the shell
It is lined with threats to the dignity of the common turtle
And a curious disregard for simple economics
Letting passion come before reason."

The elder turtle held forth;  "I am by nature an optimist
Many would contend that I am to a fault
So lately I have been feeling the acutely rough edges of societal upheaval
And I can only conclude that the majority of turtles may be feeling worse

What does it mean when I see Goodwill collection outlets everywhere... four within two miles of our home?
What does it mean when I see Congress ignore our elected President?

This man named Barack Hussein Obama
Refer to him as "traitor"
Swiftly react with "no" to his every overture, no matter the merit

What does it mean when the birth rate declines to its lowest since 1935?
When the middle class begins to disappear?
When a college degree often signifies an opportunity to join welfare rolls?
When college loans hit the trillion dollar mark and burden our children for a lifetime
When global warming is confirmed by scientists but denied by politicians?

This seems to be a time when contentious atmosphere is the fare of the day
When emails full of unsubstantiated accusations abound with petitions to "send this to 20 more"
When recipients believe what they want to believe instead of questioning... even when accusations are so extreme they beg for proof.

When the common man ignores Reagan's plea to "trust but verify."

When we spend over $3 trillion to fund futile wars in countries that have waged religious and tribal wars for over seven centuries... and we hand the bill over to our baby turtles
(those who survive the war we send them to that is...)

Where is the sense of responsibility for the future of little turtles... for the future of America?"

The little turtle said; "I do not understand why the elder turtles I look up to cannot fix things.
Why have they done this?  Why aren't they trying to take care of our future?
They are our parents, our aunts, uncles, cousins, relatives, friends and colleagues
They are Americans just like us
Yet they are plundering our economy, our air, our water, our educational system
Leaving us with dark days ahead
How will we survive?  How will America survive like this?"

"Ok, get a grip..." - elder Turtle says to self privately...
Must. Think. Of. Way to end this on positive note...
So that young turtles 
(us elder snappers like to call them "whippersnappers")
Are left with a sense of hope.
Ok, here goes...

"Fret not whippersnappers!
We have faced similar challenges in our history
And prevailed each time
First and foremost
You must fix our political system

We elder snappers are too embedded in habit
To do it our selves
The only thing we elders can give you is our advice
And our advice is,
Do it quickly."

Burma Shave! (Google it... you will get my drift...)

Signed,

Curious to discover the punch line.

Who Is John Galt?!

I got to read my pal Ayn Rand's work a couple of years ago.
I call her "pal" because I suspect we could have been
After all, most of my life I have been most fascinated by,
And closest to...eccentrics - including innovators mainly among them...(you know who you are)

I was so impressed with her beautifully developed, provocative work I wrote six, yes six stories about it. 
In rough order:

Atlas is Shrugging

Ine* Rand 678, Ine* 679

Lemon Rineand

Crow On Fifty (Ayn - the last installment)

Ayn Rand Redux

Atlas Shrugged

('dis be the seventh for those keeping count)

I think, in this day and age, Ayn would have mixed emotions at what she would see:

• A Congress in inertia 
• A President rendered impotent by checks and balances that are not working properly 
• A populace that has tired of economic abuses and the inability of its elected officials to correct the course 
• A national moral compass that fires our youth and our money erratically toward other nations

My favorite Rand work, "Atlas Shrugged" focuses on two key factors, an elected body that is so controlling that it destroys our economic base and entrepreneurs who leave the disaster behind to establish a utopian free-enterprise system.  Many people believe she correctly pointed to our current government as too large and too anti-business... this may be true in some respects.

Yet I think the main thing in Ayn's novel that does not adequately mirror reality is the assumption that business can grow and prosper better if unregulated and that corporations will function ethically if left entirely to their own devices.  If this same logic were applied to the flip side of Ayn's thinking, the government would be fine if we just installed politicians and then left them alone to pass laws of their own choosing and find their own successors.

I think...even my pal Ayn Rand would agree these guys have screwed us up big time.  She knew the only way to "Fix it" was to drop all the ethical (emphasis on ethical) entrepreneurs into a remote valley no one else could find and let them peddle their wares among each other.  We don't have any hidden valleys, we have  our entire country and the whole world to contend with. Everyone world wide has their eye on our moral compass and that is as it should be because we have long taken pride in setting the standard.

The problem is now we have let standards slip and fall into moral crevices on many fronts such as; considering torture permissible, starting wars without factual justification, saddling our children with over $3 trillion in war debt without identifying the means to pay,  giving corporations the benefit of the doubt ahead of the public voice, giving corporations and politicians a pass on investigating and prosecuting illegal activities.

Now, I wonder what Ayn would say to our leaders in business and politics today?  Maybe something like this; "Listen you idiots, I used my imagination and wrote novels. Fiction is what they were. Nothing more.  You, on the other hand, are writing history and you are doing a lousy job of it.  Snap out of it. You are both far too embedded in greed and egotism.  You are destroying your children's future." Okay, okay, maybe she would have taken 1,000 pages to relay that message but I think it would have summed up the same.

So what's to conclude?  There is much work to do of course, and our generation doesn't appear to have the cajones to do it.  Instead, we will have to wait on our sons and daughters to save us, and themselves. God, please be with them.

The Drift Of Things

draw dead - heater
flood - drought
feast - famine
good - bad
rain - shine
ying - yang
day - night
ebb - flow
up - down
high - low
hot - cold
win-lose

The drift of things...

Letter To Charlie

The Occasion: Colonel Charles Brown, USAF, MSC Retirement
The Recalled Location: Mountain Home Air Force Base, Idaho
The Players: Major Charlie Brown, Administrator; Jerry Salsberry (RIP), GS Medical Supply; Lt Jack Ohl, Box Kicker; Lt Tom Campbell, Counter of Beans. 
The Letter:

September 8, 1993


Charles W. Brown III, Colonel, USAF, MSC
Administrator, 4th Medical Group
PSC 41, Box 4465
APO AE 09464

Dear Charlie,

Yesterday, I received a note postmarked San Antonio, Sept. 4, 1993. The note announced your retirement ceremony on the sixteenth and suggested return mail be posted a week to ten days early to arrive in time. My reckoning says I should have mailed this yesterday and, once again my good friend, we are behind the power curve. Just like the good old days right partner?

Charlie and his XR 250
Sagebrush grows like a bush with pretty sturdy branches
You don't ordinarily want to run into it
Notice branch stuck into foot peg
Notice road rash on right forearm
Notice medicinal Michelob in left hand
Notice cheese-eatin' grin - this is why you never see
a motorcycle parked in front of a psychiatrist's office

For mostly selfish reasons, I dreaded this news though I have been expecting it for some time. It strikes me as the passing of an era marked by hard work, hard play, trust and spirit. The moment began to pass when we began going separate ways from our (hospital administration and dirt bike riding days) in Idaho and it hasn't been quite the same since. Most of all, I miss the trust and the spirit. Of course, it's sad but it's also a chance to reflect on some great moments and our good fortune to have shared those times.

(As I reflect back), I see Jerry Salsberry at the rim of Bruneau Canyon, with a row of perfect (false) teeth grinning from ear to ear and his eyes gleaming with excitement. Old "Leadbelly" is wearing his crumpled tan felt cowboy hat and he is astride a mass of "thumper," what was once a Honda XL250 dirt bike.

It's really amazing but the thumper is running.... running strong and reverberating like the heartbeat of a giant in some vast, empty building.

Every now and then Leadbelly cranks the throttle, making the thumps echo off the canyon walls.  He's getting ready to descend into the canyon.  The bike is (precariously) balanced on the first of several large and ominous looking stair step rocks that mark the first forty or fifty feet down a steep, mile long road.  To a couple of rookie riders, say someone (you) on a green 125 Kawasaki, or a Honda TL 125 trials bike (me) it looks like a dangerous undertaking.  After all, it seems pretty clear that once the descent begins you have to go all the way.  It looks far too steep to turn around and return in the middle.  The two or three hundred foot drop straight down the canyon wall on the right side most of the way doesn't look too inviting either.

Old Leadbelly is looking back at you  once in a while.  And he is saying; "C'mon Charlie! It's a new chapter unfolding in a wonderful life.  Go ahead, look behind ya' and tell'em all thanks and you won't forget'em.  That's the proper thing to do.  But then, look with me toward tomorrow.  Jack and Tom are already there and those two bastards are having a great time.  C'mon?  We all love ya' and we want you with us... seein' what there is to see."

L-R Tom, Jack, Charlie, Leadbelly
Idaho trip into Devil's Hole, circa 1977
Charlie and Tom have duct tape on bridge of glasses
This is to keep dust out and vision semi-clear
A few years later, Leadbelly would go to sing with the Angels

And then Leadbelly says; "When we get there, I'll be leaving you for a spell to head on down the trail. You, Jack and Tom can catch up with me later. In the meantime, you guys take good care of your families and Charlie, one of these years I'll see you in the Canyon again right after run-off... sometime in the late spring right?!" Then he cranks up the thumper and one of his belly laughs simultaneously and the thunder echoes off the canyon walls clear down the Bruneau river to the Snake river and on into Oregon...

Congratulations on your imminent departure to a new and great adventure.  The Medical Service Corps is losing a great leader.  We miss you and hope to see you soon.

Love,
Julieann and Tom Campbell

Leadbelly and Tom C workin' it at the Bruneau Canyon campfire.

(Letter taken from original with minor edits and addition of photos. Charlie was about to retire from the US Air Force Medical Service Corps.  Jack and Tom had preceeded him. Leadbelly had passed away in his early fifties - from smoking, booze and living life maybe a little too large but could he ever sing!!. He had a classic deep-tone voice that made "Long Black Veil" into something not of this earth.  There was never a camp fire he didn't light up with his music.)

Eye To Eye

Eye to eye
Loving the sea breeze
At the Bay Area's Treasure Island

A quiet afternoon
She was just three, or four
Playing around on
Mom and Dad's bed
Mom was at work
He was nearby in the living room
Watching afternoon television

Then he noticed her
Standing in the foyer
Silent...looking at him
Clutching her throat
Looking desperate

It happened in seconds
For some reason he instinctively knew

There was CPR training
Years before
He recalled the unique method
Of clearing an infant's airway

He picked her up, legs and torso on his forearm
Face down and hanging over the edge of his fingertips
Pointed her slightly downward
He thumped her on the center of her back

A marble, one of her big brother's, immediately dislodged
Clattered on the tile entry and rolled
Clickety-clack from tile to tile, to the door

He sat her down on the kitchen counter
And stooped slightly
To look at her...eye to eye
Searching for signs of further distress
Neither spoke
Tears formed and ran down her cheeks

Two years later...

They headed to Boreal ski resort
A father/daughter day
On the slopes with freshly falling snow

Five and fearless...
At Boreal

She newly taught and fearless

He looking on, followed behind
And worried she would crash
But was awestruck
At how well she took to it

They went to lunch at the lodge
He had forgotten his credit card
And sufficient cash
All they could afford that day
Was a hot chocolate to split

There were outside counters
Chest high to him
He sat her there

They chatted...eye to eye
While sharing tiny sips
Of the best hot chocolate
Either one would likely have in their lifetime

Turtle Summit

The Turtle Summit
On the patio of the world famous
 NorCal Campbell Ranch 

It all began innocently enough.
Four local turtles
Convened at the NorCal Campbell Family Ranch
In the early morning hours
For coffee
Or Slough water
Or whatever it is that turtles drink

Conversation began in fairly mundane fashion
None were willing to come out of their shells
Then, all of a sudden
(No one was sure who started it)
The conversation turned to Warren Buffet
And his recent announcement that the wealthy
Should pay their fair share (heaven forbid!) of taxes

They were most concerned about his warning
That a nation's doubt about its Congress
Could lapse into hopelessness.
The little turtle beaks were clacking like crazy
Over that one
"What would happen,
If that were to happen?"

"Well," the eldest and largest said;
"Nothing good could ever come of that."
"But I really wish for a future!" said the littlest one.
"Do you mean I may not hope to have one?"
"Nothing is guaranteed, even today", said the elder,
"Its just that the picture can get so much bleaker,
You may stop thinking about the future."

The elder went on, "Then, you might tuck yourself
Into the darkness of your shell forever.
That is the future without hope."
The little one thought about that and said,
"I will not let that happen.  I will work hard, I will be brave
And I will gather the rest of the little turtles.
Together we will change the future."

To that, the elder said, "Good, because we have failed.
You must learn from our failures and fight the partisan extremes.
Draw the centrist line and focus the rest of the turtles on that.
Demand ethics from your Congress and temper special interests to fit the common man.
It will not be easy but you, little turtle and those of your generation, can do it.
We simply did not try hard enough.
We allowed too many big turtles to gain the edge."

Poker is...

... a Muthaf___a!

Recently I recently heard a great professional poker player and keen wit, Daniel "Kid Poker" Negreanu say this about the problem with poker amateurs; "When they are winning they think they are good and when they are losing they think they are bad."

I caught this hand... this week!
Four Aces for my first time ever I think.

The beginning of July, I started tracking my tournament results using notes on my calendar.  Here's how it stacks up. In the past five weeks I have finished in the money 12 times including a couple of "chops" (ties) for first. This translates to 12 top ten finishes among a field averaging 80 or more players. Twelve for 28 and I am money ahead yes, but not enough to quit my day job. Yet, in the past two days I have had my ass kicked and that has happened many times before. Whenever it does happen, I leave the casino like most players in that situation; head low, muttering; "School let out early today and my grade wasn't good." and second guessing my play. 

I will be back in school on Sunday though. I'll be hoping to cleverly use just the right combination of loose, aggressive and tight play to befuddle my opponents and make them call when they shouldn't and fold when they shouldn't. I will be shuffling chips, sipping coffee, checking my iPhone, studying player faces (I hardly ever get anything out of this), and looking for "tells" (I know a few but am not sure what to do when I see them). When I am winning I will think I am good and when I am losing I will think I am bad just as Daniel says but I love it just the same. That's why poker is a Muthaf___a.

For additional amateur insight, see Pocket Aces - "Dat Metaphor" and  "Poker - more on "Dat Metaphor".

For info and a preview about how we got to this point click here: "Travel On"  

Update: 7/23/2018 - Seven years later and nothing, I mean nothing has changed. I continue to catch good and bad runs and play as before. Last week was so bad (How bad was it?!)...it was so bad I have to write about it to bleed a little figurative ink. In three successive tournaments this is what happened. In order:

1. Two sets, Jacks and nines "cracked."  (In poker vernacular that means beat...beat by bigger hands.
2. Pocket Kings, then Tens, then Queens cracked.
3. A set of ducks (deuces), and pockets Aces twice(!) cracked.

That is what is called a "bad run" folks. All players hear stories like this from their fellow players to the point they are tired of it. This is why I hesitated to write about it but I just couldn't help myself. Sorry. Not.  

Long Shadows...

...cast themselves gently on the south forty

"An Evening Stroll"
(If you are a member of a group, any group...
 just 'clique' to enlarge this photo.
It looks pretty nice when you blow it up, honest!)

of Norcal's famous Campbell Ranch

Making wimps wax poetic
And Badasses wax their Harleys

"Cereal Killer" Molly
Strolls to enjoy her
Own personal swimming pool

The giant mulberry shelters her passage
And keeps the heat of the evening
From her back

The "Badass" (read wimp)
Watches from the worlds greatest
Sun room and home office
Where these words are painted,
Then pasted,
Then saved,
Then shipped,
Then read by a few
Hearty souls who collectively possess
Fine humor and patience

The wonders of life, and wife
Whose middle name is "Forgiveness"
Hold him in rapt attention
While these words are tentatively keyed...

Where shall we go tomorrow Julieann?
What adventures will our children lead us to?
What will we do when the long shadows return?

Dance

“Dance like no one is watching. Sing like no one is listening. Love like you’ve never been hurt and live like it’s heaven on Earth.” – Mark Twain

Old friend Jack Sender posted this quote on his "Warming Trend" blog recently - it got me thinking about Daughter Samantha and son Tyler.  


I'm thinking a person has to earn the opportunity to dance, otherwise it won't be appreciated.  It's the old "work hard, play hard" expression at the least.  At most, it's finding what you love to do and then figuring out how to get paid to do it.  Either way can work... both ways have worked for me I am fortunate to say.  


You just have to remember to dance.
To stop and smell the roses.
To discover then chase what you love and be relentless in the pursuit.


Here is another quote that is very much related:

“To me, there are three things we all should do every day. We should do this every day of our lives. Number one is laugh. You should laugh every day. Number two is think. You should spend some time in thought. And number three is, you should have your emotions moved to tears, could be happiness or joy. But think about it. If you laugh, you think, and you cry, that's a full day. That's a heck of a day. You do that seven days a week, you're going to have something special.”  Jimmy Valvano - 1946-1993 (former UNC National Champion basketball coach).

This is the message I have for Tyler and Sam - one of you has already made your discovery, the other is still on the search.  Keep at it.  Never give up.  You will fall down. You can and will get up.  It will happen if you are determined to make it so.  Then you will love certain people, you will love what you do, and most of all... you will love who you are.

I want you both to do this.  It is all I ask.

I hope you dance.

'Neath The Fruitless Mulberry Tree

We circled her base with lights
Once for Christmas
Now can't bear to take them down

I repose, I suppose
'Neath the fruitless mulberry tree
Only to find rapture
In a cool summer Delta breeze
That often caresses the Sacramento area
In just the right places

Molly, the Worlds Greatest Goldie
Savors her new tennis ball
In a rooted cradle
'Neath the fruitless mulberry tree

Long shadows provide perfect contrast
Between tree, grass, plants and structures
I begin to wax poetic... to mark the evening
A mood feared by many

This Powder Keg 2009 Cabernet
Aint' too shabby either!

The green tin frog agrees...
With these observations

The Green Tin Frog helps Molly keep an eye on things
in the South Forty

Of the damn fine things in life
I make note that it is speechless with admiration.
Isn't it!?

I named it "Herb" after all those frogs
Jack Sender killed in Ohio
He claims he didn't do it
He claims they went missing
But the truth rides in on the Delta breeze
'Neath the fruitless mulberry tree

Just between you and me
And Molly of course
Because she presides
'Neath the mulberry tree
And Molly knows her frogs

As well as her "Cereal Killers"

Corporal Gupreet Singh, USMC

Corporal Gupreet "Gobi" Singh, USMC
Soldier, Patriot, War Hero

Tuesday, June 28th, 2011
Location: Former McClellan Air Force Base, Sacramento area, California


It was not a typical June day in Sacramento
There was a hard rain coming down
The drops stifled typical noises of the busy city
It was an extraordinary type of quiet...

The small Lear-type jet
Came smoothly to a halt
Just 50 feet from a large open hangar
Where the family of Corporal Gupreet Singh waited.

The Corporal was just 21
On his second tour in Afghanistan
He had arrived in the United States from India in 2000
For four of the following 11 years he was a United States Marine
His father said all his son ever wanted to be was "a soldier" 

In between the plane and the hangar
Some two dozen members of the Patriot Guard Riders
I among them
Had formed a flag line
They were there to honor the fallen soldier
And to preserve the dignity of the moment

The cargo door opened
The young Marine escort
Stepped onto the tarmac
And stood at attention
In full dress greens

The plane's crew of two
Moved deliberately
Through a routine of opening
The side cargo hatch
Setting up their equipment
And unloading the flag-draped coffin

The coffin was protected from the elements in a plastic wrap
The crew was solemn and kept positions of attention
Right hand over heart
At all opportunities throughout the process

The flag line was still
Holding flags at "present arms"

Patriot Guard Riders assembling for services
July 2, 2011

Left hand thumb up at bottom of staff
Right hand on staff thumb down and chest high
They formed an "L" to enclose the space
For the fallen marine and his family

All then departed, wordless in the rain
The Riders did not escort further that day
Out of caution for the rain conditions

Saturday, July 2nd, 2011
Location: Mount Vernon Cemetary, Citrus Heights, California


A more typical day in the city... sunny
Temperature was to hit in the 100's


The Riders began showing before 10 in the morning
Services for Corporal Singh were to begin at noon.

Patriot Guard flag line, awaiting call to "Present Arms"
at Mount Vernon cemetary, July 2, 2011

By 10:30 there were some 100 Riders assembled
By 11 they had formed flag lines around the front of the church
At 12 the Riders took a water break as services were held
At 12:45 they reformed the flag line at the rear of the church

At 1 the attendees began passing through the flag line
To assemble for a brief memorial outside
Just prior, in the triple digit heat
A Sikh elder passed among the Riders on the flag line
Offering small bottles of water - a welcome gesture of appreciation
Shortly after, there were three volleys of seven shots
That sealed the finality of the moment for all present

His father said all his son ever wanted to be was "a soldier" 
But he was much more than that
He was a hero in his adopted country

Obituary


Note: click on photos to enlarge in high resolution

36th Time's a Charm!

"Its just over the next hill, I swear!"
"Is the grass really greener over there?"
"Wanderlust?" Some say he got it from his daddy.

1945 -  Born Pontiac, MI - lived with grandparents
1947 - 50 Bottineau, ND
1950 - 54 Willow City, ND - house on west edge of town and house across from elementary school
1955 - Duck or White Lake, MI
1956 - Taylor St MI
1956 - Auburn Heights MI
1957 - River Road, Huron OH
1958 - Home on Lake Erie, Huron, OH
1959 - 61 Laylins Court, Huron, OH
1961 - 62 - 412 Williams St, Huron, OH
1962 - 63 - Uncles home Lakeridge, WA (Seattle suburb)
1962 - 63 - Bryn Mawr, WA (Seattle suburb)
1963 - Air Force Basic Training, San Antonio TX
1964 - Basic Medical Training, Greenville MS
1964 - Public Health Tech Tng, Gunter (Montgomery) AL
1964 - 65 - Cannon Air Force Base, Clovis, NM
1965 - 67 - Lajes Field, Azores (Portugal)
1967 - Bryn Mawr WA (Seattle suberb)
1967 - 68 - Air Force Intelligence School, Lowry (Aurora) CO
1968 - 69 - Ellsworth Air Force Base (Rapid City) SD
1969 - 70 - UTapao, Thailand
1970 - 71 - March AFB (Riverside) CA
1971 - 72 - Udorn, Thailand
1972 - 73 - Luke AFB (Phoenix) AZ
1974 - 75 - San Bernardino CA (finish undergrad school)
1975 - 77 - Mountain Home AFB, ID
1977 - 78 - Richmond VA (grad school)
1978 - 79 - Andrews AFB MD (DC area grad school residency)
1979 - 80 - Fairchild AFB (Spokane) WA
1980 - 83 - Malmstrom AFB (Great Falls) MT
1982 - Gunter (Montgomery) Al (Squadron Officer School)
1983 - 84 - McChord AFB (Tacoma) WA
1984 - 85 - (off base) San Antonio TX
1986 - 87 - Randolph AFB (San Antonio) TX
1987 - Present... One home... same home... finally!!! Sacramento, CA

Yes he's a tired puppy all right.. and glad the eagle (more like pigeon) has finally landed! 
(Note: estimates of years may be off by as much as... well, years)

Amen... Again

The air I breathe

Son Tyler Thomas and Daughter Samantha Marie

This hour.
This minute.
This second.

I want to hold it
To cherish it
To have it help me
Contain my life

To help me
Contain the gifts
I have not deserved
But accept gratefully

The moment.
The breath.
This breath.
Forever

Amen

But to all good things
An end
Must come
So be it

Amen... again

I can live with that
I guess
But I would rather not

Drafted on Father's Day, 2011

Casey Thomas

"Yunjkhan wanbli cha u kayapi.  (pronounced "Unkan blicha ooocopy")"  (Sioux)

"Das weikopfseeadler hat fassen ihm das hause."  (German)

When he was young... Casey Thomas learned Sioux from a priest at school.

W. "Casey" Thomas, 194x

He also learned German at home from his immigrant family 

Early American pioneer sod busting homesteaders. 

He came through poverty, the great Depression and life on the South Dakota prairies 
With a strong sense of family values

The keen eye of a craftsman 

A great sense of humor 

An affection for the Sioux and German languages.

He also had strong faith in “Hokah”, or “Gott” or God.

When those who knew him think of him 

Many snapshots of a wonderful man, father and grandfather come to mind.

So join me on a little journey through some of them... please.  

I will share a snapshot and I want you to participate in this by saying, or thinking, “hear, hear” with all the conviction you feel.  Casey will really get a kick out of this I guarantee.

Here we go (!):

The strong, callused hands of a man who loved to work with wood (“Hear. Hear!”)

The pleasure and concentration in his eyes as he played a game, any game (“Hear. Hear!”)

The curiosity and delight of a man who loved tools of any kind (“Hear. Hear!”)

His patience as a teacher of craftsmanship.

(“Hear. Hear!”)

His respectful approach to his customers…always (“Hear. Hear!”)

The thoughtful pause to consider the merits of a joke…most often followed by an ear-to-ear grin and a scrunched up face that said, “Das ist Gut!” (“Hear. Hear!”)

The timber of his voice as he spoke your name, forcefully and with love.  “My, My, My” that was good (“Hear. Hear!”)

The mischief in his eyes when he referred to someone affectionately as a “dikschniflik” and the joy he showed when teaching it to his grandchildren (“Hear. Hear!”)

The nearest translation I can up with for this would be "knucklehead."

The unconditional, nonjudgmental love for his family, his children, his grandchildren and all who were close to him (“Hear. Hear!”)

Okay thank you!

Wendelin "Casey" Thomas, 1997

Now, let’s consider Casey’s final hour.

At separate times during that hour his daughter Julie; sons Butch, Don, Chuck and Danny stepped outside Casey's Black Hills house and each time, they saw an eagle flying overhead. 

They each thought that the great bird had come for him.  As Casey would often say, “Isn’t that nice?!”

And so…

Yunjkhan wanbli cha u kayapi.  (unkan blicha ooocopy)

Das weikopfseeadler hat fassen ihm das hause.

Which is Sioux, and German for; 
“The eagle... has taken him home.”

Well-done Casey Thomas. Happy Father's Day for now and for always. 


He was the father of my bride... now of forty-four years.  I loved him and was fortunate to be able to tell him so before he passed.

Grad School Kicked His Ass

The Grant House at MCV
Current site of the MHA program
(He visited there once after many years absence
and found one of the great professors,
Dr. Ramesh Shukla still there -
they had a fine time reminiscing...)

He was an Air Force health care administrator
A freshly minted one
Serving as a sort of chief financial officer...the main budget person
At a nicely located Northwest US Air Force hospital

He met a counterpart from a larger hospital
Who advised him on the next logical
Career progression step...
How to get into Air Force sponsored grad school
His counterpart said; "I applied for it three times
And finally got accepted on the third attempt."

So he applied, fully preparing to get turned down
But was surprised with acceptance
First shot - dumbfounded and feeling lucky
Next step...find a civilian grad school,
Masters in Health Care Administration type
That would accept him.

His first choice...The University of Washington
Close to home and a cool place to live

They didn't want him
"Not enough meat in his mathematics undergrad work."
Which was true as all he had was undergrad statistics
He had challenged the required basic math via CLEP testing

Next stop (attempt), the Medical College of Virginia
Good possibility as there were two former Air Force
Health care administrators on the faculty
So he got a visit and an interview

One of the profs who was ex-Air Force challenged him;
"You have nice letters of recommendation
But we all know they are somewhat inflated in the military."
His response; "One of my recommendations is from a civilian undergrad professor."
Blammo...accepted into grad school!

His goal...just take it easy and get through
He loved his work but had absolutely no interest
In cracking any books to further his education

He wanted to be around hospitals, patient care
Learning in the 'school of hard knocks,'
Just punch that ticket...Get that degree and move on.
Little did he know that the real 'hard knocks' were right around the corner 

MCV turned out to be a good old boy college
Coat and tie to class... always
Southern blue bloods everywhere
One of his classmates was the 11th of his name
He liked to call him "Eleven" just for grins

He quickly found out the program was serious...very serious
The faculty was pretty proud of stating
They had an academic failure rate
And intended to use it when indicated

(And it was for one of his thirty some classmates
A fine gentleman of Armenian descent
Who couldn't (or wouldn't) maintain the required 3.0 GPA
And would be gone after the third term
Their "failed" classmate went on to graduate
From a different university
And became a very successful hospital administrator)

They worked so hard they felt guilty
Whenever they took a Sunday off to relax
He sweated every course, especially those
That included the math he had ducked earlier

Memorization was rampant
Cram it in, spit it back on essay
Don't worry about the short shelf life

There were three major components
Coursework, residency with written "management study"
And a comprehensive oral examination
Fifty-four semester hours packed into two years

They made him take it serious
And somehow he made it through the coursework
Though he was often cowed by the brilliance of some of his classmates

Then he had a good residency and paper
Although his professor/preceptor hated him
The feeling was mutual as the prof's arrogance was palpable

Then came the oral exams
And a pucker factor like no other

You could go for two years...
Make it through everything
And lose it all in one hour-long oral examination

They wanted health care leaders
And you were not going to make it through
If you did not demonstrate it in orals

He thought he was a good leader
Having stepped up on every occasion
Since he was a kid
But who was he to presume
The MCV professors would agree?

Orals were conducted on the top floor
Of one of the hundred-plus year old buildings
Right across the street from their own grad building
It was a warm, humid day...they were in suits of course

The windows in the room were open
Hearing was difficult...complicated by street noise
From Richmond's main drag below
The panel's questions hit him like stones
He couldn't make out some of the words

In response to one, he asked to use the blackboard
To diagram some concept he would later not remember at all
Short shelf life...remember?

There was nothing to drink
He was pretty sure all the southern cotton harvested that year
Was stuffed in his mouth
He had never felt more out of place or less worthy
After...he stumbled out of the building sure he had failed miserably

Back in the grad school building the answer was quick
One of the professor's gave him the news
"You made it."
He was stunned

He did not know why and still doesn't to this day
Maybe it was some enthusiasm he showed as he nervously
Fumbled with the blackboard that day.

He walked the few blocks to Shockhoe Slip
And one of its bars in old Richmond
Where the class often met

He was to meet one of his friends
The only other Air Force student in his class

He stood outside the bar waiting
Feeling more accomplished than
He ever had - reveling in every sight, every smell
And the sound of rain drops hitting his umbrella

Then he looked up as his friend turned the corner
A block away
Their eyes met and his friend shook his head "No"

*****

He would readily confess that all the academic stress
Did not bring out the best in him
He never got over the shock of finding 
Such a serious environment
His wife somehow put up with his extremes
Throughout the two years... helping him study
Forgiving his trespasses
Making sure he had nothing but time to focus on making it
It ended up being her Master's degree in Health Care Administration...
Much more than his.

*****

His friend who failed at first attempt?  Hung in there through a couple more years of waiting... returning twice in the interim to repeat his orals and, in an amazing feat of persistence finally made it.

Poker - more on "Dat Metaphor"

Luck.  Patience.  Skill.  Luck.
After several years study of the art of poker
He concluded it was a metaphor for life
... Sort of.

Made up of 4 equal components
The first and last being the same
And therefore a lot more equal

Luck borne from the deal of life
You begin with two  certain "cards"
Your environment and your attributes
Face down, your "pocket" is the beginning

Patience drives your ability to moderate
To play your cards when the time is right
To play your life, "pushing" when there is opportunity
Pulling back, "folding" to see another day and a better chance
When you see that the time is wrong

Skill becomes strength
And at times weakness
Out of periodic self doubt
Over time it keeps you in the game longer

Luck again surfaces
And drives the "Beat"
The rhythm of your life
Sometimes taking you to the "Final Table"
A long and satisfying road
But then sometimes it takes you to the "Felt"
An early demise

When you are "felted"
You get back up
Parlay the four components again
Renew the cycle
Shuffle the deck
Reload optomism and hope

(See also: Pocket Aces - "Dat Metaphor")

("Pushing - to bet all your remaining chips - to go "all in". "Pocket" - your first two cards in Texas Hold-em, dealt face down. The remaining five cards are shared by all players.  "Beat" - the way the cards fall - if you spend time pulling a lot of bad cards, they say you are experiencing a "Bad beat".  "Final Table" - Tournaments typically begin with multiple tables - when all but ten players are eliminated they convene at the "Final Table" where there is typically a graduated pay-off for each of the ten spots. "Felt" - when a player is wiped out and has no more chips.  All that remains in front of him is the felt that typically covers the table.) 

The Leaves

At door... waiting to come in.
March, 2011

Tyler Thomas Campbell... "Molly, have you been playing in the leaves?"

Molly... "No, I wasn't playing in the leaves."

Tyler Thomas Campbell... "Are you sure?  Because it definitely  looks like you've been playing in the leaves."

At Seven

As her birthday party approached, her father remarked how she had so many things in her life it might be a good idea to have her friends bring gifts she could in turn donate to children through a local agency.  Her reply at the age of seven; “Don’t you think we should wait until I am more mature?”  In those words. Exactly.

So they waited.  Then, as her next birthday approached the suggestion was made again.  That time, she was ready.  She gave the many gifts and donations from her friends to other children and also helped the agency with their annual Christmas toy campaign.  They continued this tradition for several years.  In the end many thousands of dollars in cash and goods were donated.
   

"I do it!"

From very early childhood, she was an “I do it” sort of person.

A button pusher; any gadget… any time.

An activity; skiing, blading, biking… any time.

She would just dive in fearlessly, marking her enthusiasm for life.

Most often, she would realize the outcome she desired.

When she decided she wanted to visit her grandparents in South Dakota. She didn’t want her mother or father to accompany her. 
She wanted to “do it” herself. 


Her parents were always in awe of the little person with such amazing skills and confidence. So they finally agreed, thinking she was more than capable of handling such an adventure. The day came and they put her on the plane to South Dakota with a change in Denver. She arrived safely and full of self reliance as her proud grandparents picked her up.


Within a day or so, regret set in and she was homesick but she conquered it, assisted by her mother’s soothing words over the phone. 

This was Samantha Marie Campbell at seven... humanitarian and adventurer.

This is how she will be as a UCLA graduate.