This... a Leon Bridges cover recorded in Sacramento's "Pus Cavern" studio.
Tuesday, May 12, 2026
Friday, March 27, 2026
The Box and The Letter
On August 1st, 1969, he was stationed at Utapao Royal Thai Air Force Base situated on the shore of Thailands western Gulf of Siam. They had been married for two months. They had met a little more than a year earlier when she was at a Rapid City, South Dakota bar with friends celebrating her 19th birthday. He was stationed at Ellsworth Air Force Base near there and was 23.
That day, he wrote her a letter that went like this...
"I was recalling the time you and I built that dam at the cabin. I was really grooving on you that day and was thinking something like; If I am not already, I hope I fall in love with her because she is definitely the girl I'd love to marry. She's got warmth when you need it - Enthusiasm when you need it - Class when you need it - She's a hick when you need it - She's got insight when you want it - She's naive when it's nice to be that way and wise when it's necessary. There's more but I've run out of words. Nope - it's not the booze talking because I've just finished my first.Yours and Yours and Yours & still in Love With You,"
(When he returned from Thailand, they would spend their first year together at March Air Force Base, Riverside, California. Then, he would then be assigned to Thailand once again for a year in Udorn, Thailand. She would return home to Rapid City and while there, complete school as a Radiology Technician. During those times, they would exchange dozens of letters and later cassette tapes. This note is an excerpt from one of those early letters. Almost 57 years later, he would come across it among many others she had placed in a box for safe keeping. The box travelled with them through 9 moves over the next 15 years while they remained with the Air Force, finally settling in Sacramento, California in 1987.)
Monday, March 23, 2026
... and God Bless Morris Davis Junior
I was the new Administrator at the Great Falls, Montana Air Force Hospital. Malmstrom was a small 20-bed WWII era cantonment-type hospital that was spread over six sprawling one-story wings. It offered a wide range of inpatient and outpatient services along with dental and veterinary offices.
Among 250 hospital staff, five reported directly to me. These included the resource manager (bean counter), the Squadron Commander, the Registrar, the Logistics Manager (box kicker) and the Facility Manager. I soon heard that my predecessor and the Facility Manager had a pretty bad long term relationship. I got with him pretty quick and told him I wasn't concerned about any previous issues, that we had a fresh start and would go from there.
Morris Davis turned out to be a damn good manager and we got along great. A couple years into my tour there I heard some pretty sad news. Morris's son, Morris Davis Junior had been working as a pizza delivery man in Great Falls. Someone had ordered a pizza and when Junior showed up at the address, they had shot, killed and robbed him.
Among other things, we at home decided to include Junior in our dinner prayer, adding God Bless Morris Davis Junior at the end each time. If memory serves, Junior was the first. Over the years, we have added names of those close to us and the list has grown to more than a couple dozen. Also, son Tyler and daughter Samantha have taken over recital of the "God Bless" list at the end of Grace. These days, they take turns and rattle that list off so quick you can hardly understand them. In any event, close relationships and loved ones remain part of our "bounty," the biggest part.
Sunday, March 22, 2026
There Was Something
Something I intended to do
Something that cranked my curiosity
But then, a moments distraction
And I forgot that something
It happens
Sometimes it returns
Sometimes it does not
I like forgetting something
Best when it involves chores
Least when it involves research
Today I learned
The right digital thermometer
Reading for chickenWill I forget that something
By the time I need to recall it
Only time will tell
But hey
Tell me when it's time
Tell me something
When I need it
Thursday, March 12, 2026
My Pal, Phillip Earl Campbell
We were rich, Phil and I. We played on the streets of Pontiac, Michigan and made it a magic kingdom. We had other cousins and our grandparents living nearby and we were a close group. We consisted of auto worker families with homes rented and purchased within a mile of downtown Pontiac.
There were musicians and singers in the family, some blessed with fine voices and others who played guitars, pianos and such. Phil's dad Everett had a wonderful baritone voice. Everett's wife, Mina was an accomplished pianist. When he was around 10, Phil took up trumpet. He would play for himself, his family and on bands for the remainder of his life. He was also a devout student of theology, genealogy and a devoted husband to wife, Kathy for some 60 years.
At one time, in the mid-fifties, the Michigan Campbells comprised such a large group we would rent halls for family gatherings on major holidays. They were a pot-luck feast filled with love, laughter and home-spun music. Us pre-teen kids, Phil, Sharon, Donna, Dennis and I would make a hell of a racket at those gatherings.
Phil and I lived in the same house for a short year or two. His family rented a duplex on Taylor street, and we lived in the back. The home directly behind us was rented by our Aunt Alma and her family. He and I created our own version of the movie, Stand By Me on those streets.
Phil (R) and Tom, Early 50's
Among our pastimes, we would frequent any gas stations we could reach by bicycle and collect maps of various states. They were free then. Sunoco, Texaco, and Phillips 66 come to mind. The maps stirred our curiosity about what it would be like to travel there.They were like discovered little treasures for us. We would also stand on the curbs of fairly busy streets, carefully listing with pencil and paper the States and numbers from license plates, all out of curiosity about where the cars were from and where they were going.
There was a dairy nearby. We discovered a hole in it's perimeter fence and would sneak in to steal cartons of chocolate milk. It always seemed to taste better when it was stolen. It was the Mark Twain "Watermelon Effect" I would recognize and write about many years later.
There was also a ball field nearby. At some point, we discovered cigarette butts under the bleachers. Almost everyone smoked back then) and we would sneak a few puffs to see what it was like to be (cough) adults.
We were big time marble players as well. I wrote a story about that years ago and will put a link here: https://tclifecycles.blogspot.com/2010/09/marbles-deadly-game.html.
Out of necessity, my family was pretty mobile. With that and the happenings of life, Phil and I lost touch for many years but then reunited online with the advent of the internet and the ensuing forms of social media. I discovered then that Phil was a prolific writer. I'd key in a "What's up?" and get back what seemed like several pages in response, most of it preceded with testaments about his beloved Kathy. His writing was always clear, enthusiastic and definitely Campbell family newsworthy.
Phil passed this morning at around 2AM PST. This was after many years of wrestling with infirmities of growing intensity. He and his surgeons fought mightily for him to stay with us but it was the end of his journey. I love you and I miss you Phillip Earl. I miss your avowed love of family, your curiosity and your sense of humor. See you soon old pal.
Sunday, February 22, 2026
Mandate for America
This is my political platform. I am running for the office of Common Man.
1. Repair Social Security - remove cap on contributions
2. Eliminate national debt - remove tax breaks for wealthy and corporations
3. Implement national health insurance - pick and use the best features of other free world countries
4. Reverse Citizens United - reduce undue influence of corporations
5. Eliminate electoral college - let popular vote prevail
6. Eliminate gerrymandering - No watered down voting process
7. Reinstate Roe vs. Wade - let choice prevail, not men
8. Eliminate Presidential pardons - Judicial system and jurors should stand
9. Restore Kennedy-Johnson era tax rates on the wealthy
10. Eliminate corporate welfare system - We don't need to subsidize billionaires
11. Eliminate SCOTUS ruling on Presidential immunity
12 Balance Senatorial power - like representatives, base on population
13. Ban stock trading by members of Congress - enforce insider trading laws on same
14. Begin teaching DEI in kindergarden and continue through high school - counters parental teaching of racism and misogyny
Thursday, January 15, 2026
Eh Tee... or Ate Tea?
| Bounty. Comes in many forms |
Either way, it sounds out as eighty. That's the real subject here folks.
It just happened to me last month. I was shocked and remain so. I mean, who in their right mind thinks, 'yeah, I'm going to live to be 80?' Anyway, I'll do my best here to avoid listing the many infirmities that accompany this age. Let's just say 'nothing works quite like it used to.'With that sort of settled, let's go forward with a little on what does work. First, I get to greet my bride of nearly 57 years with an upbeat "Good Morning!" every day. She's better at that than I of course, as she is with most things. Next, I get to make her laugh several times each day (she humors me) and I love her laugh.
Also, right up there at the top, I have a son and daughter, both of them talented, thoughtful and smart as hell. They both tolerate me just fine too. They live in the immediate area so we get to have dinner with them once a week on average.
It's pretty important to note that I generally have my wits about me. I am well aware that many of this age are not so fortunate. Sure, there are some folks out there (you know who you are) who at times have considered me a half-wit or dim-wit but hey, do they count in the great scheme of things? Nah.
I can drive, legally and capably and I'm damn grateful for that. I love to do it so there.
Julieann and I worked hard in our youth. Her, much more so. As a result, we are in decent financial shape so I can chase endeavors, gadgets and other stuff whenever my goofy, left-handed, Sagittarius mind suggests. Yeah, I buy a lot of books too.
I've got a few friends and fans, and some of them tolerate my blogs and books. I am eternally grateful for them, particularly those who've stuck with me through my rants. As for those I've lost along the way, I don't blame them at all. I mean they have lives without me in them don't they? Well, don't they?!
I've got toys... A hell of a lot more than I could have dreamed of when I was a poor little kid, sitting in a tiny Bottineau, North Dakota house, huddled next to a kerosene furnace, reading a comic book I borrowed (swiped?) from my neighbor pal, Russell Dinwoodie. Now, I'm spoiled rotten and it's all Julieann's fault of course. Still, I am scarred for life over the fact that my Grandmother, Bessie gave me a robe for Christmas when I was 11. A robe?! C'mon! Where's my Mattel Fanner Fifty?!
When we say family grace, we bless a lot of folks we've known and loved over the years. " From Thy Bounty" is the applicable phrase here and we've had plenty. It's especially notable when our son and daughter blast through grace at the dinner table. They can each recite a lengthy list of blessed folks, no longer with us, faster than you can say, "Pass the mashed potatoes please."
Last but not least, I just read that California's reservoirs are full for the first time in 25 years. To me, that means I can bask in our hot shower as long as I want without guilt. Bounty.
So there it is folks, a brief look at what it means to be Eh Tee, or is it Ate Tea? Any way you cut it, it's a life of bounty damn near beyond measure.
Sunday, January 4, 2026
The Hayseed
A person from the country, especially a simple, unsophisticated one.
"Notices of agricultural sales are an irresistible lure for hicks and hayseeds."
Wednesday, December 31, 2025
"Will You Still Love Me..."
Impressing those beautiful girls was often the order of the evening and we would make mighty attempts. Things like placing a 10-12 inch log in the middle of a beach fire and doing handsprings on it. Slow dancing on those patios? Yeah, that was definitely a thing. Sweaty palms were also a thing, an unwelcome surprise to all who experienced them, both givers and receivers.
I was fourteen and my hormones were moving along leisurely at, oh, I would say a hundred million miles an hour. I had maybe three albums in my record collection. One was Duane Eddy and another was the Shirelles. I don't recall the third - maybe the Everly Brothers. And there was this song, one that made my heart ache for a girl I hadn't even met yet. But then, I would meet several over ensuing years as I continued in my somewhat fragile, susceptible state. The song? "Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow."
So is this story about raging hormones or music? Damned if I know. I do know I sorely miss the rush of both. I am pretty sure though, the two are closely related.
I can tell you it would be many years later when I bought the Tapestry album and discovered Carole King wrote that song. Many years later again, I would discover one of the two Shirelles lead singers, Doris Coley, passed away here in Sacramento in 2000. I didn't know she was that close. I would have loved to tell her how much she and her group meant to me.
Oh, those voices and these songs;
Soldier Boy - "I'll be true to you",
Mama Said - "...there'll be days like this",
Baby It's You - "I can't help my self...",
I Met Him On Sunday - "He said bye, bye baby.",
Dedicated To The One I Love - "Each night before I go to sleep my baby...",
Stop The Music - "Who does he think he is?",
Foolish Little Girl -"Fickle little girl".
Yeah, I loved those ladies... in music, and in life.
Monday, December 1, 2025
The Gud Ritr
Anyway, a much too late thank you so much Miss Windau. Through those few words, you encouraged me to pursue and enjoy a pastime that remained with me for a lifetime. I did a little internet stalking and have found that many others feel the same way about you. Well done Ma'am. Well done.
(I should add that I have produced a book, a memoir that maybe is at times humorous. "Hayseed" includes sections that occurred when I was one of her Huron High School students. If she were here, she might have given me a C-... for effort... maybe. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FRZG3DVC
Friday, October 24, 2025
Like Glass
Ute dam near Logan, New Mexico
Campers stir from tents
Content. From previous night's
Prairie air that enveloped them
They look across the reservoir
Admiring water
Monday, June 2, 2025
Jack Ass Hill
I am presently reading Ron Chernow's huge, 1,000 page opus about Mark Twain. You may recall his biography on Alexander Hamilton that was a best seller for a hell of a long time. I liked the Hamilton book. That is what caused me get the Twain bio.
I am reminded of my recently departed <sob> Harley Davidson riding days when I would at times take off solo through the Sierra Nevada foothills on day trips. Once, between Sonora and Jackson in Calaveras County, I rounded a curve and noticed a small sign on my left that said, "Jack Ass Hill Road." That sparked my curiosity so I turned around and rode up that hill. It was a short ride, not even a quarter of a mile I believe, when I saw a dilapidated old one room cabin surrounded by a metal fence.
There was absolutely no one there except a donkey who looked at me through another nearby fence. No surprise there, a jackass on Jackass Hill Road. I parked the Harley and checked a sign at the cabin that told me Mark Twain had lived there. It was marked as "California Historical Landmark No. 138."
The cabin is where he reportedly wrote his first novel, "The Notorious Jumping Frog of Calaveras County." The iron fence is modern though, supposedly to fend off those who might mess with it.
(Photo... Twain's cabin and my Harley sometime between 2000 and 2003.)
I snapped a photo then and there of the cabin and the Harley, thinking they may have had something common. Twain and I were both exploring when we landed on Jack Ass Hill Road. I believe we both shared an appreciation for the possibilities life offered. We both wrote about it too. He of course, "killed" his writing as they say these days. Mine? I just maimed my writing a little but my stories remain, in the same spirit as his.
Sunday, March 23, 2025
#6
Maybe not so bright (him) but yeah early
Monday, March 10, 2025
Finding the American Middle - Dump the OWGs!
If you label those parts to symbolize left and right political beliefs you can describe extremes, a few who gravitate toward the middle (moderates?) and very few who reside in the very middle. You can attempt to pull them all toward the middle but to succeed you need to first make a convincing argument. Most important, you need to be heard by the extremes. And that will never happen.
Among the fundamental problems here is that people tend to believe what they want believe, they neglect to verify what they read and hear. They also selectively read only what they think will defend their side of an argument. Consequently, people who inhabit the extreme left and right of politics tend to stubbornly remain there, often beyond reason.
The result is meaningless unless someone can buy into the notion of a word that these days seems to arouse negative feelings. The word is "bipartisan." People seem so afraid of the "slippery slope" of action that they are unwilling to even slightly move from their position in issues that concern us all. The "slippery slope" of fear suggests a modest action by the group will trigger a slide to the extreme.
This fear is having a significant impact on critical issues in America today. We are seeing this in just about all social topics including left and right political extremes, socialism, and economic factors.
Left and Right Extremes seem to be the most divisive of the factors:
- Immigration - open borders vs. managed immigration vs. isolationism.
- Gun control - ignoring the "well regulated militia" part of the Constitution while focusing solely on the "right to bear arms."
- Climate change - treating oil and gas companies as gods at the expense of future generations and potentially the planet.
- Natural resources - conservation on the left, unchecked consumption on the right
- Government regulation vs. free market (Rand would have us believe a totally free market would function perfectly, a notion that totally ignores man's tendency toward greed. Can you say "Enron?")
- Socialism vs. capitalism - many do not, can not, will not see that a blend of the two is the best guess for a balanced democracy. The larger and more complex our society gets, the more structure we need to maintain balance. At the same time, we need certain environments with minimal structure to encourage innovation.
- Medicare
- Medicaid
- Social Security
- Interstate highway system
- Private ownership
- Free markets
- Competition
- Pursuit of Profit
- Student loans - choking discretionary income of college grads
- Taxes favoring wealthy and corporations
- Politicians catering to and later evolving to lobbyists
- Citizens United - corporations being considered people yet demanding welfare in the form of low tax rates and subsidies
- Oil - especially fracking (See skyrocketing Oklahoma earthquake rates.)
OWGs - (Old White Guys) The catalysts behind most all social injustice. They practice it, they bully others with it, and they teach their children well.
Friday, February 28, 2025
To Paul
Paul Murrell! Received news of your demise early this month. Had been receiving updates from your wonderful wife, Nell and your equally wonderful daughter, Jennifer but then, it happened. Deeply sorry but it seems to have gone quickly and hopefully without too much suffering. Julie and I were fortunate to make the trip to San Antonio for your services. Our old pal Bob Bunker and his wife, Barbara had made arrangements to join us but had to cancel at the last minute as his sister, "Peggy" Bunker had been suddenly hospitalized in critical condition. (She passed shortly after so be nice to her when she shows up at the Gates okay?)
Great to see your family again after so long. I recall we last scheduled a Spring trip to visit you and others in late 2020, but Covid messed that up. We even ate the cost of that Southwest Air trip eventually. As it turned out, we planned several subsequent Spring trips but as you know, various health issues here caused postponements.
I do want to let you know your family appears to have held up well. Nell, to us, appeared as a "profile in courage." She was outgoing and gracious to all who attended your services and internment. Same went for all your other family members. I recall a fine crowd of old friends and relatives showed as well, including a bunch of our old fellow Air Force Medical Service Corps pals.
Your services were damn good too, although I think the new priest talked too much. At one point, my phone, which I was sure was silenced, rang and I apologize for that. I quickly turned it off and after a bit, leaned over to Julieann and whispered, "That was Paul calling." There were some fine tributes spoken by your son Warren and two of your grandsons. Plus, one of your family Boudreaux's played some beautiful piano and sang for you. One of his songs, "Just a Closer Walk With Thee," was very familiar. In the 50's and early 60's a large chunk of my Campbell family, all auto factory workers, lived in and around Pontiac, Michigan. There were so many of us, we would rent a hall for family gatherings. There would be a feast of course then the musicians and singers in the family would serenade us with traditional folk and religious music. That song was one of them every time.
After the service, Nell and the gang had arranged a lunch buffet in a hall behind the church. It was Texas-style with seasoned tri-tip, sausage, creamed corn, barbecued beans and such. The beef was tender and the 'fixin's all hit the spot.
Then, we formed a police-escorted caravan, led by you of course, to the cemetery at Fort Sam Houston. The ride went smooth Paul. I was really impressed with the expert maneuvering of the police escorts on their motorcycles as they kept us moving through the 15 miles or so of fairly heavy traffic and often narrow streets from the church to the fort. Part of the route took us right by Olmos Park where our old mutual pal, Ben Buecker lives. At the cemetery pavilion, you rested there for a moment while the honor guard fired your salute and the airmen folded and presented Nell with the American flag that had draped your coffin. I clearly recall the weather was perfect, with a gentle breeze flowing through our spot and over you. I was able to give your coffin a final pat as I considered writing you this note.
To catch you up on our visits after, that evening we went to our gangs old standby Mexican restaurant, the Alamo Cafe for a visit and dinner with Don and Andrea Palen. Good food and great company let us catch up on events with their family.
On Tuesday, we visited Randolph Air Force Base, photographing our old home and surroundings on base. We took a picture of the main boulevard through housing toward the theater too. In the middle, a long sidewalk where I taught son Tyler to ride a bike. Also the Officer's Club a couple of blocks away where Tyler, age 7 or 8, got busted by the Security Police for climbing around on its roof. The area, at one time was green and clean. I have to tell you Paul, it is run down now, dried out and dirty. Pretty sure this is all due to contracting out the old landscape services instead of leaving responsibility with Civil Engineering. It took real-time direct control away from Commanders and the news has been around for some time about how housing in general has deteriorated.
That night, Don and Andrea hosted us for some great dinner and fellowship where we swapped a ton of lies about old memories from over 37 years ago. Their son Sean, my one-time inner city math teacher hero, was with us too.
The next day, we took our pal of almost 60 years to lunch and dinner near his home in old Olmos Park. Ben Buecker is, as you recall, our favorite attorney of all time. He's getting on in years though as we all are. Ben still has a whacky sense of humor and yet, when prompted, able to accurately recall past events and our adventures. We left pretty worried about his welfare even though he's being closely watched and cared for by his sister-in-law Frances. Unfortunately, Frances is experiencing health issues as well so we are thinking the situation is pretty unstable. Getting Ben into some sort of daycare, with few remaining relatives and none in the area, seems impossible since his home serves as a shrine to his departed wife, Cindy, and his guitar collection.
Paul, something you may not know about Ben, is he'll be joining you at Fort Sam one of these days. Cindy is already buried there. That privilege is the result of Ben's serving as honorary counsel for Germany in the state of Texas for a number of years. I believe this, in turn, was an honor given largely as a result of his providing Texas law internships to over 300 aspiring young German lawyers spread over more than 30 years. I think it may have also been the result of Ben introducing them to the finer aspects of Mexican food and Shiner Bock beer. The site on Fort Sam contains the remains of German POWs who were in a prison camp there in WWII and Ben will join Cindy next to them.
The next day, Wednesday, Julie and I took a little break and took a boat ride through the San Antonio Riverwalk. The pick up and drop off point was only a few steps from our hotel. We were dazzled by how well it is maintained and the blend of historical and modern architecture. It was a huge improvement over the last time we toured sometime in 1985. Then, we spent a few hours at Ben's.
That evening, Nell and Jennifer joined us for dinner at San Antonio's self-proclaimed "best restaurant, Blu." It was a touching time of reminiscing and laughter for all four of us and Paul, you got the best of it. We parted with tears and the hope we would all meet again. If that does happen, I promise to make up some new lies about you.
Rest In Peace My Dear Friend, Confidante and Colleague,
See you when I see you.
Wednesday, February 5, 2025
Heaven's Gate & Beyond
Paul Murrell and Bill Grinstaff, both prior Air Force Medical Service Colonels, are positioned just inside the pearly gates of HPC (Heavens Personnel Center). They are there to assist all 3,000 deity's (Earth's declared forms of God, Buddha, Allah and so on) with the placement of new arrivals. As part of their duties, they also periodically support placements on Mother Earth because there are simply too many humans wandering around without any form of guidance... aimlessly so to speak.
One day, they receive orders for two health care administrators in Izmir, Turkey, a hotspot of human wandering. Paul says to Bill, "They need two medical turkeys in Turkey. I have checked with our earthly representative, Tom Campbell and he says he knows two birds of a feather who clearly fit the bill. Bob Bunker and Don Palen have been 'winging it all their lives so they'll be perfect."
Bill responds, "By (3,000) God(s) you're right Paul. I clearly recall when Bob tried to leverage the entire state of New Jersey into one huge Air Force Base medical complex. Plus, I remember when Don stepped into a heavy rainstorm and looked to the sky with his mouth open. Poor guy almost drowned and joined us here. Gotta' love those two pesky turkeys."
Paul says, "Okay, we'll get'er done. We'll drop the card and those two should receive their orders forthwith. Folks in Izmir will never know what hit them. Bob will teach half of them how to wrestle and Don will teach the other half how to hoard vinyl albums. The Turks will end up grappling on the mats while listening to a scratchy version of Lawrence Welk's Greatest Hits. The resulting quantum improvements in health care there will so impress the people that 'WrestleVinyl" will become the rage at concerts all over the world. Why, it'll be bigger than freakin' Woodstock."
And that folks, is the way it is today, February 5th, 2025. RIP Paul and Bill.
Wednesday, January 1, 2025
The Doyle Brunson Hand
Second only to poker's Aces & Eights in notoriety, the Doyle Brunson (RIP) hand is widely known in Texas Hold'em circles. Wild Bill Hickock's hand became famous as he was shot and killed while holding Aces & 8s in a saloon in Deadwood, South Dakota in 1876. Doyle's is, hands down the second most legendary hand in poker circles.
The Doyle Brunson hand would become famous right around 100 years later in 1976 and 1977 respectively. The hand was a pocket ten and deuce and Doyle won the World Series of Poker with that very hand two years running. In 1976, he won when the same hand filled to a full house after the remaining 5 cards were dealt. In 1977, Doyle won when, from the pocket ten and deuce, he hit two pair to top his opponent's two pair.
Yesterday, on New Year's Eve, at Sacramento's finely hosted and appointed Stones Casino, I encountered those famous Doyle Brunson cards in two consecutive hands. (Note: this story isn't about playing poker well, it's about playing, that's all.)
The first time, I was in the big blind so I had a mandatory couple of thousand chips in the pot before any of the cards were dealt. After the two-card "pockets" were dealt, the betting went around the table with a few callers but no raises. As the last in the action, I looked down at Doyle's hand, a ten and two off suit. I just called and the "flop", three cards were dealt face up on the table. Among them, I was happy to see another ten and two, giving me two pair. I checked mine, hoping someone would have caught something to make a bluff or bet, giving me a chance to trap. It checked around, no bets. When the next card was dealt I saw no threat and checked again. One player then threw in 8 thousand in chips. Everyone else folded. I raised to around 20 thousand and, after pausing a while, my opponent folded. I showed my winning cards, which I rarely do, and happily announced the "Doyle Brunson" hand.
The very next hand, I was in the small blind, so I had a thousand chips in the pot before the cards were dealt. I looked down and again, there was a ten and a deuce. It was another Brunson hand, back-to-back. A genuine rarity. AI considers the chances of this happening in the millions to one. Betting commenced and there were a couple of calls then a large raise to around 12,000. When the betting came to me, then 8th of 9 players at the table, I quickly announced "all in" with about 55,000 in chips.
Just to be clear, my hand was a really bad hand to be playing at all. Players quickly folded to the big raiser and, after a long couple of minutes of thinking, he folded. Up to that point in the tournament, I had not been playing loose at all and I'm sure he took that under consideration. I again showed my hand with announced remembrance of Doyle Brunson. It was a find moment in poker for me folks. A fine moment. Thanks for the inspiration Doyle and thanks for the entertainment Lady Luck.
Saturday, January 13, 2024
Words..."To live by"
To begin; the Oxford dictionary has over 170,000 words plus almost 50,000 considered obsolete. The Mariam-Websters has 470,000. The average English vocabulary runs some 20-35,000 words. I'm betting Stephen King's vocabulary runs well over a hundred thousand. So what the Hell does that even amount to? To see, at least for me, I'm going to kick it around a little here.
Words:
Precede action; "I'll be back."
Succeed action; "We kicked ass."
Set the stage; 'It was a dark and stormy..."
Demonstrate ignorance; "Merica, love it or leave it."
Provoke laughter; "Shit happens."
Profess love; "...for richer or poorer..."
Clarify facts; "...the hip bone connected to the thigh bone..."
Convey success; "He made it."
Convey failure; "He didn't make it."
Express shock; "Oh My God."
Express surprise; "What the f___?!"
Turn up the dial; "I'm gonna' kick your ass!"
Turn down the dial; "It's okay."
Reflect history; "Four score and seven..."
Make history; "...a day which will live in infamy..."
Obscure history; "It wasn't an insurrection..."
Contradict each other; "Alternative truth."
Clarify emotion; "I love it when you do that."
Clarify emotion 2: I hate when you do that."
Express frustration; "No one told me it was a left-handed bolt."
Beg imitations; Emojis
Demonstrate apathy; "Meh."
Of caution; "Lighten up."
Mark a moment; "It's Howdy Doody time!"
Rewrite history; "There was no Holocaust."
There's more, there's always more but you get my drift here right? I think words cover every single one of the bases. Besides, what the Hell would we do without them? Just look at each other, make faces and expressively grunt? Well, maybe we could make a good argument for that too...
Update: 10/30/2025
I've been reading a lot of Cormac McCarthy's work. I am fascinated my his command of english and his ability to make up words that often make sense. For example, I am currently reading one of his recognized best novels, "Suttree." It is a visceral read of what some refer to as a modern day Huckleberry Finn type story. Aside from being starkly realistic in its descriptions of earthly things and people, Cormac loads it with words I have never read in all the hundreds (thousands?) of books I've read. On damn near every page, I could easily spend most of my time back and forth from dictionary to book if I wasn't a scanner at heart, picking up a few pearls of writing along the way.
Okay, that's it. Just a little more from a world that tweaks my ever lovin' curious heart.
Tuesday, January 2, 2024
The Trained Killer
"Ima' trained killer.
Love masks of all kinds,
Love to plant a giant flag
In the back of my pick'um up truck.
Got military-grade watches, knives and stuff,
Never served in the military
Life member of the
My guns make me stronger,
Going after school kids,
shoppers, teachers, blacks, latinos, Muslims
Anyone... especially those who threaten my second
'mendment rights.
Plus, my little NRA club
Maybe more... lost count."
