There’s a song that goes “I’m finding myself at a loss for words, and the funny thing is, its OK”*.

Such is life. The same can be said for experiencing the Grand Canyon. Hat number 11 of 27, save one, was acquired for just such a moment.

The year was 2010, and my eldest had recently graduated from high school and was preparing to go “off to college”. While tooling around the local Academy store a couple of weeks before the trip, I was tempted by what one might call a “sun hat”. You can type cast it: Khaki color, big round brim; you get the picture. Using our upcoming vacation and some time in the Grand Canyon as an excuse, I bought it: a bonafide “older man” hat.

There is a great line from Jack Sparrow, Captain Jack Sparrow, at the end of the movie Pirates of the Caribbean: …we’ve reached a very special place here: spiritually, ecumenically, grammatically. Then he looks at his friend, who is wearing something appropriate for the event, but a little out of character, and he tells him “nice hat”. Continue reading I’m finding myself? →

Don’t you just love the English language? I’ve no doubt blown more than one of its standard conventions just inside these first two sentences. A good friend yesterday was telling me of his grandson, who had just moved back to Oklahoma after spending his early life in the European nation of Austria. “Grandpa”, he said, “I’m fluent in three languages: German, English, and Okie”. He then proceeded to diagram the ways a good Austrian would say “I do not have anything to eat” in the two proper languages, and in his newfound home’s unique vernacular.

I love modern English for its variety of meanings to a word, each meaning the product of another language, culture, or unique set of experiences. “Gauge” is just one such word. If you look up its definition, you will see at least three:

A standard or scale of measurement.
A standard dimension, quantity, or capacity.
An instrument for measuring or testing.

The Durango Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad is a case in point, and it produced the inspiration and the headgear that is hat number 8 of 27, save one. This 45 mile track from the town of Durango, Colorado to the higher elevation point of Silverton was originally built in 1881, and it continues to run and serve over 130 years later. Its founders believed the choice of 3 foot narrow gauge rails would be well suited to the mountain route, and that the less expensive cost of narrow gauge construction could enhance the viability of the new railroad. I would say 130 years has proven it to be viable. To this day, it delivers people and goods up the narrow and sometimes treacherous path, the locomotive straining and steaming to accomplish its objective. The vistas encountered along the way are breathtaking.

The young couple pictured at the start of this entry first rode said railway on their honeymoon 25 years ago this summer. It was a bookend, or should I say “book beginning”, experience that has helped shape the conversation that is their life together. Just a few years ago, they took their progeny back to Durango so that the “young ‘ens”, as a good Okie would say, got to experience the beauty and majesty of the railway firsthand.

Tomorrow, the eldest of said progeny will be “gettin’ hitched”, in further good Okie phraseology. Her parents pray that she and her young suitor will choose to use a narrow gauge as they start up the path of life together. The narrower gauge can sometimes come at a lower cost and enhance the viability of a new enterprise. It has proven itself to be worthy of the hard work life can bring, and it can deliver on the narrow and sometimes treacherous path. In choosing to steam through said paths together, the vistas encountered along the way will be breathtaking.

Don’t you just love the English language? I do, and so many of those who choose to speak it.

A long time ago, Cain killed Abel. It is historical fact. It is the stuff of legend. If you are not familiar with the story, look it up for yourself. By the way, Cain and Abel were brothers: the first brothers. Accordingly, brothers and sisters have been fighting ever since.

They say that time heals all wounds. I believe that is true. For some, wounds may be healed because we tend them well, but a scar can still remain. For others, the wound festers, and time’s healing comes from time being no more for the one wounded. Regardless, the wound passes, as do we.

Hat number 7 of 27, save one, is really not a hat, but more a form of headgear. This reminder of mankind being unkind to one another is called a hachimaki. It is similar to scarves worn by Japanese pilots seen when my daughter and I were recently watching a movie about the attack on Pearl Harbor. This hachimaki was a gift from a friend, a friend descended from former foes, and it is a beautiful thing. Continue reading Bury the hatchet →

Mind if I smoke? I know what you’re thinking. Keep your shirt on; I’m not about light off a Camel, or even produce a vape from a hidden pocket. Keep your shirt on, and your steel toed boots, and your hard hat. Definitely keep your hard hat on.

Allow me to explain. Once upon a time, I was an auditor. I know, it sounds like a career that is exciting, alluring, even seductive. But, trust me, there is nothing seductive about sitting in front of an old style 10-key calculator for hours on end “footing” a big computer printout to see if it really adds up to what it says it adds up to. If you think that makes no sense, you are not alone, but it was 1990, computers were not to be trusted in the realm of automated accounting, and they paid young guys like me to try and validate what was true and what was not.

Getting out of the office was always a welcomed distraction. Accordingly, I looked with excitement at the opportunity to go “inventory” an oil refinery on the Texas Gulf Coast. A team of several twenty somethings like myself flew into Corpus Christi and went straight to the old Champlain refinery. Before we could enter the refinery and get to work, management at the facility required us to go thru a four hour safety training course. After the course was completed, we had our boots, our heavy tape measures, our clipboards, and our hard hats, complete with fancy little stickers saying we had been “safety training certified”. Oh, and we also knew where all the marked blue safety zones were inside the refinery, just in case there was a fire.

I was assigned to work with two veteran refinery employees, and out to the old truck we went for the start of a 36 hour marathon. This was when the fun began, at least for said veteran employees. Continue reading Refiner’s Fire →