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ThanksGiving

I have a bunch of low quality iphone photos and videos that I would like to put on this low quality blog… and why not put a Thanksgiving spin on it… as it is the day.

I am thankful first of all that my son can longboard at the age of 16 months.  I dont know how smart he is, but he can bomb a hill! Hold on a sec, DHS is at the door.

Im also thankful Wylder is a lover, not a fighter.

Im most definitely glad we are in our loft, even though the work continues. Heres a 360 shot.  Thanks to Clint for showing me the Pano app.

I am thankful for Meri that she got her own crafts room (aka Smitty Baby office).  Why she still does everything on the dining table Im not sure.

I am thankful that I got a cool scooter on a bond, got to take it on a sweet 25 mile trip, and drop it off at my friends house to trade for these new studio monitors.  It was a fun ride on some country roads… till it got dark. Now Im ready to finish my studio so I can actually use Jabes…(You just cant type some lingo… ie “jabes” for JBL)

We started with the child, lets end with him. He is I guess the usual aim of my iphone camera.  Well, Im thankful The Smitty Baby knows to stay away from the paparazzi, how to brush his teeth before plowing the fields, and to read.

You of course can see these pics and more on my Flickr.

Happy TG.

Oct 30-09

Meri got Smitty Baby on The Pioneer Woman again.  This is good. It sells books and other products. Well, actually pretty much just books.  Which gets us closer to not being in the hole on that adventure. Thanks for smiling Wylder.

I didnt know much about this Pioneer Woman, and actually am still not sure why the gals go ga-ga, but I do now toss the props to her work ethic.  I have no idea how she gets it all done in a day.  Running that website, her family, the ranching stuff and now this cook book. I guarantee she has earned the fame she has received… wonder if its even really worth it?

Im enjoying living in our new home… loft… building… whatever you want to call it.  The sounds are different. Ive always haad an affinity for reverbs.  I always notice the mess ups in movies and music.  The reverbs here are not home-esque and have made some getting use to for me. The can even provoke feelings of homesick, or lack there of to me. Homesick.. theres a topic I could go on for hours about.  The definition of home I have failed to define as of late.  Which brings me to the fact that I think the last two years of working on this “home” (if indeed it lies in a house) has made me look old and used. My face has new reverb.

This is Wylder’s favorite spot to squat in our new home.

He likes to teach the ways of life in it.

Much like Jesus.

My friend Chris has a cool Desktop available on his website.  Its actually his VW van burning to the ground in a parking lot of the Wichita Wildlife Refuge a while back.  He came back from climbing in time for a last pic.

This photo makes me crack up every time i see it. Its posted on the info board at the Weatherford Jail, so I see it every time I do a bond there.  Lets dissect this.  First of all… ok, wait.  There are way too many points here.  Just enjoy it.

Ponoko.com makes me think of a million new businesses. Check it.

On a final note, Wylder has learned the art of fake laugh.  I taught it to him to keep his Mom’s confidence levels up.  She throws a lot of stories and jokes out there. No one can bat 100%… I mean even 50 is tough really…. its not her fault. I mean seriously… a lot of stories. She throws them out like parade candy.

A while back I got all these old maps at an auction. Probably at least 50 of them. Almost all of them on canvass, mounted to woooden rods top and bottom, and each one kept rolled by a fixed purple shoe string. They were from the 50s and many up to say 7ft long and equally tall. I promised some to my mate Corey in return for a personaly designed Smitty Baby logo. Well finally we both found the time to make true on my promise. We threw open my storage door to greet and explore the long past purchased maps that I had never gotten around to excavating. About half way through the pile, when we had to take a break from the dust and black mold spores floating in the illy ventilated garage, we realized that each one of these were individualy a treasure. However, due to the context of the quantity, and hopefully not the floating moldspores, we had been numbed to their individual thrill. We agreed that finding a mere one of the maps in a yard sale or thrift shop would be more than an evening supper tale. Well I don’t truly know where I’m going with this story, except that this weekend I saw adolecent to small children play with a $1.50 blue plastic ball from lack of choices like it was Halo 3. Tonight I was captured.. truly captured..by a melody that played like a broken record on the menu of a DVD (Brothers Bloom). And I believe it was the inability to covet another from circumstance that made the experiences so unique. My favorite thing in music school was the latter semesters of music theory. We would take a small exerpt of a really juicy piece of music from the likes of Liszt or Bach and dissect it like my badly named highschool biology 2 cat Ching Chong Kitty. We would spend a week on 2 minutes worth of music, and I never thought to leave it for another until the professor would lay one more new on my desk. Possibly this is why I like vintage or why I’m drawn to unique. It limits my choices. Maybe a lack of a lack is the demise of the USA. Maybe the people of our country are trying to fix their watch in their own shadow. Maybe all of this I had to say to find a way to use my newest learned saying. (see oct 15 blog. Paragraph 2)

I got drug under a car on a bounty hunt.

I got drug under a car on a bounty hunt.  I guess I will tell this story now. It seems the cat has officially crept out of the bag.

Which brings up a whole different point of why people are putting cats in bags. Obviously it was, at a time, done quite often for it to become a saying.  Which by the way, today I learned a new one. “Like trying to fix your watch in your own shadow.” I really like that. Thanks NPR. Cant believe Id never heard it.  Ive never put a cat in a bag, so maybe I don’t like that one however. I think my Great Grandmother has though.

So anyway back to the dragging.  I was hesitant of telling this story on my blog. Yes it’s a great story I suppose for the sake of a story, but it putting myself in the situation was dumb, and not smart.  Which saying the words “dumb, and not smart” makes me seem equally dumb and not smart as its quite repetitive and grammatically dumb……… and not smart.

Again, back to the dragging.  Here is how the story goes.

Its Thursday before last.

I get a tip on where a $5000 skip of mine is in Hydro.

I drop Wylder with friend Becca because Meri is gone to Dallas.

I rush to the scene alone and with no protection of any kind except cuffs.

Dumb and not smart time number one.

I find Victor Alturo Medina Huitron standing amongst some guys working.

I talk to victor about the current situation.

He acts like he doesn’t speak English and that his name is Alex.

I say it in Spanish.

He remembers English and begins to talk about being afraid of Mexico.

He begins to run.

I begin to run. Im faster. Hes bigger.

Dumb and not smart time number two.

We beging to awkwardly wrestle standing up.

We run back to where we started.

Things cool down

We talk while panting out of breath.

We are running again.

We are wrestling again..standing, on the ground, on the the hood of the car.

We end up at the driver door of his car and eventually both fall into the seat.

Dumb and not smart time number three.

I cuff his left wrist.

He puts the car in reverse.

The open door nails me to the ground on my back.

Pinned in the V where an open door and car meet I slide down a gravel road.

Shins to the car. Back to the ground. In the fetal.

I scream like a little girl.

His eyes are huge.

I imagine mine were bigger.

So many thoughts through my head including but not limited to:

-death

-an article i read the day before about a man getting ran over

-my new shoes getting dirty

-paralyzation

-Wylder

-that I was going to kill this guy

20 yards later he stops, goes forward as I get unpinned and roll left to miss the back tires.

I run for my Rover, call the cops for a BOLO.

I touch my back.

That hurt.

Lose my guy at a 4 way stop.

Go to ER.

I Return within an hour of when I left to Becca to pick up my son.

I knock on the door with no shirt, covered from waste to shoulders in bandage.

I shrug. And say “I Know, so cliché right?”

The road rash doesnt look too bad here (do however notice the still seperated shoulder… see blog dated July 31. I have another appointment about that monday) .  The looks and pain of the rash grew for the next couple of days.  It is looking and feeling pretty good now. Im pretty bummed about my shirt. I will for sure take the buttons off and reuse them. They were tight. As for now my goal is to stay away from the ER. I actually managed to do this the day after I rushed Chris to the ER for cutting his fingers on the table saw.  ER Blogs = July 31, Sept 30 and Oct 15. This being said, I’ll use this excuse to show another , more gruesome photo of chris’s fingers.