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.

  

  

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. 

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.        

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.

The Trained Killer

 

"Ima' trained killer.
Love masks of all kinds,

And camo' stuff, lots of it

Ima' trained killer
Love to plant a giant flag
In the back of my pick'um up truck.

Ima' trained killer.
Got military-grade watches, knives and stuff,

Ima' trained killer.
Never served in the military

Ima' trained killer.
Life member of the

National Rifle Association (NRA)

Ima' trained killer.
My guns make me stronger,

Ima' trained killer.
Going after school kids,
shoppers, teachers, blacks, latinos, Muslims
Anyone... especially those who threaten my second
'mendment rights.

Ima' trained killer.

Gonna' be famous on that there television

Ima' trained killer. 

Yessiree.
Plus, my little NRA club

OWNS fifty United States Senators.
Maybe more... lost count."

Her......and him

The Artist

Her perspective on things

Drawn, literally, from studies

As student

As teacher

And from her own inspiration

People's faces mainly

Backed by textures, colors, lines

Backed by a practiced hand

But works unsigned

Why?

Customary for artists?

Until the work changes hands?

And what about titles?

The bearded man - his name?

The lady who visited Yosemite - her purpose?

Is there more about them?

The boy in the collage - the effect

Seriously... seriously good

The self-portrait... somber, colorless

Yet telling of wisdom

Telling of a life

Lived full

The attributes she pursues

In herself and others

In all these, "... something good and true."

Something "... authentic."

Will there be a posthumous 

"Artist Unknown?"

That captions these fine works

I hope not.

Bot?! I Think Not...

I was invited (thanks again Quilldog) to do a short story about bots and how they relate to marketing, content and leader development and include the “seedier side.” In a page or so no less. My knee jerk (yeah, this happens a lot) reaction was; if I was just slightly thorough, I could write an opus on each of those elements. It would just take a little research into the tons of articles and stories that circulate today. So, I won’t. Instead, I’m going to plumb the seedy side a little.  Just with some recent experience with bots (maybe) and some, not so wild speculation on how they might be used for AGI.

First, a couple of the many definitions out there on both topics so we are sort of on the same page with this: 

A bot -- short for robot and also called an internet bot -- is a computer program that operates as an agent for a user or other program or to simulate a human activity. Bots are normally used to automate certain tasks, meaning they can run without specific instructions from humans. 

Artificial general intelligence (AGI) is a form of AI that possesses the ability to understand, learn and apply knowledge across a wide range of tasks and domains. Here is a link to a good, straight forward article on what AI is and what its current applications are: https://www.simplilearn.com/tutorials/artificial-intelligence-tutorial/artificial-intelligence-applications

Now, I will share a little recent personal experience that may include some of both, you know, some probable bot stuff and then some imaginary but possible AGI stuff.

In the past 90 days, Bots in Singapore have apparently cruised my blog stories almost 7,000 times.  That represents about 10% of the near 7,000 hits on my “Travel On" stories since I began posting them in 2008.  Lately I have been working on that very blog, along with my other Harley Davidson (25k+ hits) blog to produce a blockbuster memoir tentatively titled; “Hayseed.”  As soon as it hits the NYT bestseller list, I plan to option film rights to Clint Eastwood who I assume will want to assign the other Tom…Cruise that is, to play lead. As evidence, here is a little pie chart from my “Travel On” blog showing reads for the past three months.

This is what I have gathered from that event.  Those little bastard bots are being used to collect and collate information for generative AI. This will quickly turn each of my 600+ stories for “Hayseed” into bestsellers in and of themselves without benefit of further human touch.  Watch for them under the highly suspicious nom de plume; Abbot Miyagi.    

The Singaporean bots, from what I understand, are quicker than I can key in the word “bot.”  Yes, sad but true.  That means by the time I publish “Hayseed” the country of Singapore will be able to sue me for printing my own words.  

In fact, consider that generative AI may very well be keying in these words right now.  Nah, just pulling your chain…or am I?

 

The Wrinkle's Hand

You may may not be familiar with the terms "wrinkle" and "squeeze." Heard it somewhere a long time ago and was lead to believe it distinguished between a young person, "squeeze" and an old one, "wrinkle." As the title suggests, this story is about the latter.

When I was a "squeeze," I often noticed and wondered  about the appearance of a person's hands.  There's a lot more variety than a person might suspect.  Smooth, rough, callused, manicured, scarred...and the list goes on right?

A couple of nights ago, I was reading Nelson Demille's latest novel and went into scan mode during a somewhat boring section when I noticed the back of my own hand. Yup.  My own. I recalled I had seen the same sort of hands on others before...wondering about the life of the person that possessed them...whether it had been a long and hopefully a good one.  Now, reflecting on my own I would say "yes," mine has been long and good.  Mostly thanks to the people who have influenced me through example and support.  Loved ones past and present.  If you are one and you are reading this...Thank You for nurturing the life that is reflected in an old wrinkle's hand.

WSOP Salute to Warriors 2023 - Two Rookies Ride

It began simply. He saw a Twitter post that announced a contest to select a veteran for an expense paid trip to enter the 2023 Las Vegas World Series of Poker. It was for one of over 60 tournaments, this one called the "Salute to Warriors."

The contest was sponsored by self-described "besse frens" Angela Jordison and Jacki Hughes. Over time I've come to think of the two as poker pros although they might disagree. Angela had been playing in a tournament out East I believe. She was so impressed with the sportsmanship and demeanor of one of her competitors (a military veteran) she offered him travel, lodging and entry fees for the upcoming "Salute" tournament.

As news spread, others stepped up to offer sponsorship for more veterans and so, being what I would call expert organizers, Angela and Jacki decided to develop a contest for a total of 10 winners.  Veterans were asked to make a video explaining their military service, interest in poker and the World Series. They also needed to submit documentation of their veteran status.  It was all done online so it was a speedy process.  

I thought; well, I love playing poker and the World Series is right up there on my bucket list so I made a short video and submitted it.  Then, to my surprise, a pal from many previous local tournaments; Charisse Case recommended me. That did it I think.  I was one of the top ten. Donations kept pouring in and in the end Angela and Jacki ended up selecting 15 veterans to sponsor.

Still, I wasn't sure I would be able to make it for a while as some family medical issues needed attention.  Finally, thanks to my daughter Samantha and wife Julieann, things cleared up just a few days before the tournament. Son Tyler also showed interest (To watch over/chaperone his old dad?) so we booked flights.  From Sacramento, Spirit Airlines is the only carrier that offers direct flights to Las Vegas at reasonable times.  They seem to have a pretty bad reputation but our travel both ways was smooth although they do tack on charges for most everything. It was however, a pleasant surprise to find that the bathrooms on the planes weren't coin operated.

For our first morning there, Angela and Jacki had organized a fine breakfast in a private setting.  There, they also handed out gift bags loaded with donated poker merchandise.  We were later joined by Lon McEachern and Norman Chad, legendary voices of poker and both nominees for the 2023 Poker Hall of Fame.  Lon lives in our area. We have played several tournaments together and he also narrated my deepest large poker tournament run a few years earlier so it was a great to see him and introduce my son.

Next, the Salute to Warriors began.  I had a decent day, running deep in the field but not cashing.  Some of our group of "15" ran deeper and I believe a couple of them ended up in the money.  All together, it was most impressive as thousands, more like tens of thousands of players showed to enter dozens of tournaments in and around the Las Vegas strip.

Tyler Thomas Campbell
WSOP winner

On our third day there, it occurred to me that my son should enter a World Series tournament just to chalk up the experience even though he had only played a couple of tournaments many years before. He agreed and at breakfast, he asked many questions about the fundamentals...folding, betting, ranges and such. Together, we covered just enough information to get him started.  It was a $250 Series side event and neither of us had high expectations.  Early on, Tyler caught pocket Aces and had three callers all-in.  His Aces held up, he quadrupled his stack and knocked out two of his three opponents in the process. In a field of over 900 entrants, he played pretty tight from then on and finished in the money!  I was and I am sure proud and happy for him.

In one of the early levels of that tournament, I was in the big blind.  There were mucks all around to the small blind and he called at I think around 2,500.  I looked down at my pocket and it was ten-deuce off suit.  I immediately announced "all-in" and the small blind folded.  I then showed my hand in honor of Doyle Brunson (RIP) and the hand he is most famous for.  The entire table got a kick out of that one. (In case you don't know, he won back-to-back World Series titles with that hand.)

As for me, I met some mighty fine folks, had some deep runs in the three tournaments I entered and enjoyed every bit of it...even the block-long, fast-moving bathroom lines during breaks.  Over the years, I've written maybe a dozen stories about the Texas Hold'em poker experience.  This will likely be the culmination...the end...finis as I gotta' get back in the game and focus on that.  Or will there be more?  We'll see.

In the meantime, for those of you who know, I'll see you at the final table.

   

The Circle - An MSC Story

I was a rookie, a shavetail lieutenant and former Air Force enlisted man. It was my first assignment as a Medical Service Corps officer and I had just completed my initiation as hospital squadron commander. I had a new job as the medical resource manager and a new boss, BTZ Major and fellow MSC Charlie Brown.  One day Charlie walked into my office and dropped a hospital regulation on my desk. The regulation directed the organization and management of the hospital cost center management program. It had been developed by one of Charlie's colleagues at an earlier assignment to Travis Air Force Base. The author was then Captain Terry Cunningham.  

As he walked back out of my office, Charlie turned and said; "Make me one of these."  So I proceeded to plagiarize the regulation and make it our own... one for Mountain Home Air Force Base Hospital. Over the next few months we operated the cost center management program according to the regulation, assigning managers from each department, conducting regular meetings plus establishing and tracking action items.  It went well and our eventual Tactical Air Command staff "advisors" agreed.

About three years later, I had just finished an AFIT sponsored MHA program at the Medical College of Virginia and was updating our resource management program. I was assigned to Fairchild Hospital and was working for then Lieutenant Colonel Paul McNally. I got my hands once again on the Cunningham paper, tailored it to our hospital, and then organized our cost center management program accordingly.  Not long after, we were visited by the medical inspector general team from Norton Air Force Base. The inspector for our Resource Management program turned out to be none other than Lieutenant Colonel Terry Cunningham. Needless to say, our hospital resource management program did well.

It was a solid circle of management; from Terry to Charlie to me and eventually back to Terry. I'm pretty sure that regulation got a lot of other circulation as well.  

Note:  Charlie Brown retired as a Colonel having served as SGA at Space Command, the Air Force Academy and Lakenheath, England. Charlie was a walk around, positive style, administrative whiz and master delegator ("bend them arrows"). Terry Cunningham retired as a Colonel having served as SGA (Administrator) at the Air Force's biggest facility, Wilford Hall Medical center (Noteworthy that Terry's son would retire after serving in the exact same capacity some years later). Terry was a great organizer and mentor with an upbeat approach. Paul McNally would retire as a Colonel after serving as the top logistics MSC for the Air Force Medical Service. Paul mastered at deciding the right thing to do and finding a way to get it done despite any opposing regulations. They all had many other attributes but these stand out in my mind. 

Damn. I sure got to work for and with some talented folks back then. In reflection, my only regret is leaving early as a Major after serving half my 24 years enlisted and the other half commissioned. I missed (still do) our common purpose and ability to prioritize the humanitarian ethic over the business ethic though both were and are critical. In my following 25 years or so as a healthcare consultant to dozens of for-profit and not-for-profit healthcare organizations, I never did come across as great a bunch of people as those three and those who served with them. I could have hung around the Corps much, much longer and still been a happy camper.