I Don't Know His Name

An affable fellow
Tall, fit
Married to a younger Asian lady
I have seen him (and her)
Many times in our local gym over the years
We have often exchanged pleasantries
He asked about the different Harley shirts I wear
"Have you been to all those places?"
"Yes, I am a fanatic about the ride,
And picking up souvenir t-shirts."
He said; "It is good to have a passion."
He is a friend
I don't even know his name

A courageous lady
A serious limp
A condition...
For years, the hardest working person in our gym
Works the bikes to 20 miles
The machines to a heavy sweat
A twinkle in her eye
A wonderful smile
We have often exchanged pleasantries
Returning quickly to the gym tasks at hand
I would like to be her friend
I don't even know her name

When our lives are full...
How do others fit?

What I Be - The Project

The What I Be Project
A young man hereabouts

Steve Rosenfield is his name
With a passion for photography
And people

"I am not my anxiety."

Has combined his interests
Into the "What I Be" project

Risking oversimplification
I would say
He uses a photo image
Of a person,
With a few words
Boldly written on skin
To convey what that person
Believes may be the worst part of their image
Or... self

He includes a tag that says; "I am not my ........."
It could be about the person's behavior
Or their looks
Or what others may see, or think

Each, in their own way
Says there is more
Than what you see of them

"I am not my weight gain."

Or what you see in them

This... is a link to: What I Be
It seems to have a life of its own
It seems to have a healing effect
It seems to help people understand

The Tunnel
Modern Sacramento California
Is connected to Old Sacramento California
By a small tunnel
That passes under Interstate 5

A song was recently written
For the What I Be Project
Then recorded in that tunnel
With the steady sound of traffic in the background
Three musicians played and sang their song

These are the lyrics:

Verse 1:
If this was the last song that I ever could write…

I would think of a journey that brought me through a good life
If this was the last song that I ever could sing…

It would give me a reason to believe in what I be

Chorus 1:
Who's going to be me when I'm gone…
What will give them strength to carry on
Who's going to be me when I'm gone…
What will give them strength to carry on

Verse 2:
If these were the last words that you ever could speak
What would you pass on… to leave here… as your legacy
If these were the last thoughts that you ever could think
Would you ask yourself deep down what you be

Chorus 2:
Who's going to be me when I'm gone…
What will give them strength to carry on
Who's going to be me when I'm gone…
What will give them strength to carry on

Verse 3:
The last words that I sing will drip from my heart
Boiling over from my life so my soul can part
I'll echo myself through the caverns of existence
I hope in this world that my sound will make a difference
I hope my love is left behind when thoughts have all escaped my mind
For someone to find.

Chorus 3:
Who's going to be me when I'm gone…
What will give them strength to carry on
Who's going to be me when I'm gone…
What will give them strength to carry on

This... is a link to the song: What I Be
Filmed by Steve Rosenfield


All told, it is a fine body of work
By some terrific artists and a great humanitarian

As Time Goes By

The Sides of Aging
Loss of family	On occasion of their 43rd anniversary.	More patience
Loss of friends		Awareness of beauty
Erosion of senses		Strength of character
The withering vine		Mellowed emotions
The ravages of time		Stronger sense of self
Advancing infirmities		Deepening relationships
September of our years		Greater appreciation for life
Diminished physical endurance		Increased mental endurance

Double Rainbow

One evening not long ago
It blessed Sacramento

A double rainbow

A re-enactment (meaning a photo taken elsewhere by someone else)

In a surreal sky

Ninety percent low overcast

Save a slight opening straight west

Light rain had just finished

The double rainbow hung in the East

Toward the mountains

Toward Tahoe

The colors of two rainbows 

Each in the same order

Blue, Green, Yellow, Orange, Red and Purple

Notice the sequence

Note the beauty

Leaving hope for tomorrow

I have to go look again...

Saint... ah, Thomas - well... sort of

They moved to Ohio
Via a short stay (2-3 yrs) in Michigan
It was lock, stock and barrel
Well there wasn't any stock of course
Probably no locks or barrels either
It was just them and everything they owned
In and on an old '49 Pontiac (I think - coulda' been a Chevy.)
(Here's a link to more on that!)

Catholic Church/School, Huron Ohio
He was there... fifth through eighth grade
Sister Arcadia, the Principal...
A real Nunzilla she was

Arcadia once took him into the cloak room
Tugged sharply on his ear
Gave him a smack on the face
And essentially told him to
Shape up or else

Sister James, sixth grade teacher... 

His Earth Angel
Sister James once took him aside
And told him how bright he was
That he had a fine future in store

His Dad was the janitor
His Aunt ran the cafeteria
He was an altar boy

After hours no one was ever surprised to see him there

In the building that contained church, school and cafeteria
He often served Mass seven days a week
He was filled with curiosity and a need for adventure
That prompted him to sneak tastes of altar wine
The taste was never any good to him
He kept at it for the excitement though

(Certain priests would nudge the chalice 
With their fingers positioned in saintly fashion,  
For more to drink during Mass 
So he would just keep pouring until they nudged again...
signalling "stop")

Yup - they looked like this!

He also discovered how to pilfer school lunch tokens
And had them hidden all over
The combined school and church building
It was a twisted entrepreneurial move
Netting him the buck and a half a week
Mom coughed up for his lunches

When he was twelve he was elected to the #2 position
In the altar boys, "Vice President Grand Knight Commander"
True, there weren't many voters
It was a fine title for a little thief though
Whose related shenanigans
And relentless pursuit of the "Watermelon Effect"
(You might remember this from the "Hayseed" chapter.)
Wouldn't stop until he was 15 and spent a night in jail
(If you are thinking "scared straight", you are right.)

Still, at that age it seemed to him he was destined for serious Catholicism
So he volunteered to become a Maryknoll missionary
They had a high school for aspiring priests in Syracuse, New York
Maryknoll priests came to interview him
He tried to guess the right answers
And pass them along to make the priests happy
He never found out how that went
Because he was soon too preoccupied
By man's all time greatest distraction

(Yes, he was a pandering puppy back then,
Some called it "charming".
In any event a habit that is tough to break.)

Huron, Ohio beach

During that same period
(summer between 8th and 9th grade)
He was swimming in Lake Erie one day
Right at the beach
By "Laylin's Court",
The combination cabin and trailer park
They lived in

Among others in the water that day
There was a girl, petite, from Ireland,
Or maybe Scotland
Raised in the the South
Who had a wonderful mixed Irish/Scottish and Southern U.S. accent and smile - Patty Markin

They exchanged a few insults and rude remarks
And immediately fell in love...fatuation
Patty's dad worked in an auto factory in Norwalk
They lived in one of the trailers in Laylin's Court
Patty was 'Trailer Treasure" of the highest order

He quickly decided he wasn't cut out to be a priest
Instead, he became dedicated to
Hot pursuit of the opposite sex and true love
A pursuit he would fail at repeatedly,
Sometimes on purpose, until his early twenties

There was a problem though...
The transition from 8th grade and Catholic school
To 9th grade and public school
Was pretty much like getting out of prison
There were so many new (wrong) things to do!

It made him soon Shuck the Shackles of Sainthood
To pursue the Shady Side of Sin - well... sort of.
He was kind of headed in that direction anyway...

(Next chapter: Sinner - it's just a temporary job...)

Manure

Circa 1970

Steer that is...steer manure

More commonly known as "BS"
"Till 5-6 inches into the soil."
That's the recipe for our annual tomato patch
Four plants this year

I have to work up the gumption to get out there
But when I do
I actually enjoy it
And the honest sweat from my brow

I am thinking that tilling the soil
Binds you to the earth
It's a good feeling

Maybe I should have been a farmer
Nah, I like donuts too much
I should have been a cop

But then, I want to be a custom chopper builder
And a professional poker player
Plus I want to be a Dad (a good one) to 50 more kids

Kids like Tyler and Samantha 

(I'll do better for you I promise!)
And I want a couple dozen Goldies
Running around in the south forty

And I want to marry Julieann Marie
No wait... that part is a done deal

OK, OK... maybe I should be applying the shovel

To the BS right here
Instead of in the tomato patch

Molly Campbell - Post Script

Molly's pal, Sparkle Plenty II
Ex-Seattle Seahawk - one bad schnauzer

Post Script: Molly came home yesterday for the final time.
Her ashes will rest in two places; very near 
her own personal swimming pool in her back yard 
under the cork oak tree near Sparkle Plenty II, 
and along her beloved American River Bike Trail 
where she and Tom logged so many miles 
and had so many adventures. 


Yes, no one animal, person or dog, deserves that 48 
word run-on sentence as much as she does.

Molly Campbell - Sep 1998 - Apr 2012

Sparkle Plenty II and her new pal, Molly

Circa 1949 -
Dad pulled in the driveway
Parked and headed toward the house
It was his son's birthday
His son ran to the door
Wondering if there was a surprise

His Dad said,
"Oh!  I forgot my jacket in the back seat."
Could you run and get it?

His son headed for the back seat
Opened the door
And under the jacket was Sparkle Plenty

A quiet moment together

(named after the character from Dick Tracy)
A black and white cocker spaniel

Circa 1986 -
Remembering his father's tactics
He pulled up to the house
On his son's 6th birthday

His wife and son met him at the front door
He said, "Oh, I forgot my jacket in the back seat.
Could you run and get it please?"
(He was a lot more polite than his father.)

His son headed for the back seat
Opened the door
And under the jacket was Sparkle Plenty II
A black Schnauzer

Circa 1998 -
He pulled into his driveway
On his daughter's 10th birthday

His wife and daughter met him at the front door
He said, "Oh, I forgot my jacket in the back seat.
Could you run and get it please?"

His daughter headed for the back seat
Opened the door
And under the jacket was Molly Campbell
A Golden Retriever

A smooch for the hound

Her parents had heard
A dog... like a Goldy
Is good medicine
To help keep a growing daughter well grounded

That wasn't true
A Goldy is good medicine
To keep an entire family well grounded

Molly's mission as a puppy
Was to cut her teeth
On every piece of antique oak furniture
In the family dining area

When she turned two
She was satisfied with the development of her canines
So she quit chewing
And her family took the table, chairs and other items
To a local business that dutifully restored them

Sparkle Plenty II was still around
So Molly made it her duty
To invite Sparkle to play
Every Day

And every day

A little respite under the mulberry tree

Sparkle made it firmly clear
She did not intend to play

The uneven truce
With a pact of tolerance
Lasted for several years
To the fifteenth and final year
Of Sparkle's great life

From that point
Molly assumed full control
Of the Campbell's back yard
And large sections
Of the American River Bike trail

Through her life
She was known for her gentleness
And her love for people
She inspired the saying that
"The only person she loved more than her family
Was the next person she saw,"

If you were ever part of the wild welcome she would give visitors
You are nodding your head now in agreement

Her life became dedicated

To activities that brought joy to her

And all she came in contact with

Chasing tennis balls thrown about

The famous NorCal Campbell Ranch

Catching and playing with wild game

(occasionally too hard)

*The Golden 'Cereal' Killer

Swimming in the American River

With Tyler and pals

Working the fast current instinctively… expertly

Jogging the American River Trail

Hundreds of miles with Tom

(Tom called it jogging... it was more like shuffling)

And she just walked along side

*Old Dogs

Swimming in her own personal swimming pool

(all humans allowed)

*Molly Phelps-Torres Campbell

Spending time with Julieann

Watching over her, and with her as she

Tended to her often absent family

Pals

She had the softest mouth...

When she accepted a biscuit

From her Campbell family

She wouldn’t think of quickly grabbing it

Then gulping it down on the spot

She had to take it

With the gentlest touch

Not pulling away until she sensed

You were releasing your grip

Then walking to the back door

To be let out to the backyard

Where she would lay down

Treat still cradled softly in her mouth

(once in a while the tell-tale drool leaking a wisp to the side…

just like Tom lately)

Then after slowly surveying the south forty

She would carefully break up the biscuit

And take her time enjoying each morsel

She filled our lives with tenderness and joy

Every day of her life

Never a down day

Never a lapse

Every single day

Last Monday

She and Tom

Did a commemorative

Mile and a half walk

A great lady in her element

On the American River Trail

She sniffed to her heart's content

And marked her territory once more

Wednesday, she was struck swiftly

With a massive infection

And went on a journey

That took her to the

UC Davis Veterinary Center ICU

By early Thursday morning

They did a wonderful job

Trying to save her

But it was time for her to go

She would have been fourteen

Lord Have Mercy.

Lord Have Mercy.

Lord Have Mercy.

*Molly

"Dogs are Gods creatures and not for us to keep... Only to share a space in time with."

(Thanks Chuck Thomas)

*These are hyperlinks to earlier posts about Molly - just click on them to see the story.

**Please, no notes of sympathy although I deeply appreciate the thought.  This post is intended to celebrate a life our family was privileged to be a part of - be happy for us and.... go adopt a dog.

Three Young Turks...

... walked into a bar.
Nah, you have heard that one before

This story is about three Turks
The Egyptian they work for
And the hotel they work in

The Cafe Acadian
A Creole style restaurant
At the Marriott Hotel, Baton Rouge

I was working on a project in Baton Rouge
A tight schedule did not permit me
To fly back to Sacramento on weekends

I have spent several million
(OK, ok over a thousand... way over)
Nights in Marriott's over the years
So I received complimentary buffet breakfasts
For the three weekends I was there

My weekend routine was
Hit the hotel gym
Shuffle on the Elliptical machine
Pump a little (very little) free weights

Then grab a complimentary paper
And flop in the hotel's Cafe Acadian

Each time, these guys were all over me like a cheap suit
Holding my chair to assist me
Snapping that napkin and dropping it on my lap

Smiling "Good morning Sir!", "Juice?", "Coffee?"
If I said; "Just juice." to one Turk
Another would follow him shortly after
To be sure I didn't want the coffee.

They never let my juice glass get close to empty
A butter wrapper on the mat next to my plate?
A smiling Turk would sweep by and carefully remove it

One morning as I was finishing
One of the Turks
Placed a plate of three fresh beignets
At my table - complements of the house...

They were in constant motion
The three young Turks
And a distinguished head waiter

An Egyptian who would stop by your table
Survey the situation
Gauge your satisfaction

Upbeat, smiling
Five star
Five huge stars
Better than I have seen anywhere else
Ever

These guys were the Steve Jobs
Of quality waiter service
This I know

And if you put them on the road
Had them teach service
At the finest restaurants in America
You would see amazing improvements

But I don't think you could quite capture their...spirit
Yes, that is the ingredient that made them so special
They were enthusiastic in their step and in their speech
A quality I believe you must be born with
Or maybe there's something in the Baton Rouge water...

Ah, but they are leaving
Returning to their home country
If I get back before they leave
I will attempt to talk to them further
To find out more about their spirit
To find out why they are leaving

Mr Emad Sotohy and his son,
January, 2013

(Julie and I should visit Egypt, or Turkey... I could get used to that!)

*December, 2017 Update:  I wrote this in the Spring of 2012.  Now, coming up on 6 years later, the Egyptian referenced in this story, Mr. Emad Sotohy has long since returned to his home country and his family including at least one fine son and daughter.  We remain pals and in touch via Facebook.  Emad works at the Cairo Marriott where I am sure they provide the best concierge and overall service you can find anywhere.

Coonass

Hanging out in Pride, Louisiana
Just outside of Baton Rouge
An Easter family get together
A dozen or so
Self proclaimed "Coonasses"

Wiki says Coonasses are people
Of cajun ethnicity
Some consider it an insult
Others consider it a badge of honor

I am thinking it is a fundamental part
Of the charm of being in Louisiana

A prayer
Then a delicious barbecue,
Then a delicious desert
Then a congregation outside

A time for family talk
A time for questions aimed
At making this Yankee guest
Feel at home

Invited as an outsider
Treated like an insider
I am at once a visitor
I am at once at home

Some wine
A stogie
Some damn fine
Southern hospitality

An Easter to remember

The Spin Of Things

There is nothing 

Nothing we can say

That hasn't been said... 

Already

Nothing read
That hasn't been written... 

Already

So why do we say it?
Why do we write it?

For the fun of the spin we're in...
To share the past
To capture the moment
To predict the future

To redirect opinion
To convince ourselves
To protect our memories

Why do we say,
"Words cannot describe...?"
When that, in and of itself
Begins a description.

And if its a competition of words
Either spoken or written
We will spin it to win it

That's what we do.