The marching band refused to yield...

Every weekday morning, I wake up to he very distant and faint sounds of drums being played and horns being blown. 

It's become a pleasant ritual for me because it brings back some faint memories of long ago. 

What I've been listening to is the Barbe Buccaneer Band in south Lake Charles. My house is about a mile from where they practice in the mornings. My bedroom window faces that direction. Unlike the boom boom bass blaring sound systems I often hear pass down Country Club Rd, the Barbe kids make good music. 

The first time I heard them play from up here took me back to my West Street bedroom in the hometown. We didn't have air conditioning, so the window was open 8 or 9 months out of the year. I could hear conversations from the 7-11 up town. I could hear the kids on the playground at the elementary school. This was especially attractive because I wasn't yet in school and wanted to go. The playground noise from 3 blocks away made me want to go even more. 

Then, there was the sounds of the marching band practicing. The horns, the drums, the woodwinds. All in perfect harmony. 

I couldn't see any of this. I could only hear it. It left the rest up to my imagination.  Who was playing? How were they dressed? I imagined the band was wearing the trademark black and orange military uniform, complete with the bandmaster hat and quill. 

Of course, they weren't. Not for practice anyway. Not at 7:15 a.m. 

But that's how remembered it anyway. 

Spiders & Snakes

Jim Stafford once had a hit song with "I don't like spiders and snakes... And that's not what it takes to love me.. Like I want to be loved by you."

I never paid much attention to spiders or snakes unless they crossed my path. Even then, I didn't give them a second thought. 

Then, the other morning, I woke up with what may be evidence of a spider encounter. Maybe it was trying to find a nice place to sleep. Whatever it was doing, it took a stab at my right elbow, and I haven't been right since. 

So far, I've missed 8 hours of work, made 3 visits to the doctor, got a shot in the hip, 2 prescriptions, and an IV drip. 

Thanks, spider... or whatever the hell you were. 

Sparta, Mississippi

A while back, I bought this little device that plugs into the back of the TV that's yet another technological wonder. 

It costs around $35 and takes the video I show on my phone or computer and puts it on the big screen. 

The concept is that we can watch anything online. As far as the laptop goes, it's not that fast. It does work... Most of the time. 

On the iPhone, it works fabulously. I can even update this space while watching. 

Speaking of watching, I don't watch much of anything unless it's old re-runs of In the Heat of the Night. Remember that show?  

It's set in Sparta, Mississippi around a small town police dept. Someone who has a YouTube account was kind enough to upload several hours of this show. 

If I could find them and offer money for more episodes, I would. I never did see all of the last season on TV. 

Mind control doesn't really work on dishes

Ever stare at the pile of dirty dishes in the kitchen and feel defeated before you even start to clean?

Me too. 

No, they won't clean themselves. 

But I can wish they would. 

They won't though. 

Civic duty

I don't remember how, but I ended up on a local emergency planning committee. 

You know the one. It's the group of concerned people who try to come up with a plan with bad things happen. 

I've made 4 of these meetings so far. I don't know that we've planned much. 

Despite the lack of mass action, it's been nice to fulfill the civic duty. 

The 14th of October

Today is Robb's 5th birthday. He's my oldest boy. 

The one with the toothy grin. He has sandy blonde hair, big beautiful blue eyes, and a precious smile. When you ask him a simple question, his eyes light up, he smiles big, and usually responds with a very slow and deliberate, "Yessssh"

The "sh" on the end is necessary to convey the shear cuteness that is contained within. 

I don't care to dote on other pictures of children or the parents that post them to social media, but I understand their bias. I understand their dedication. Robb is one of four of my dedicated biases toward children. The precious ones we hope for. Pray for. Dream for. Give to. 

They deserve so much more than we give, don't they?

Then there are those that dreamed for us. They hoped the best. They did what they could to prepare us for life and life's wonders like Robb. One of those is James. 

James left this world on this day 2 years ago. Time flies when you're mourning as much as it does when you have fun sometimes. Has it been 2 years already? Yes, James, it has. 

He was the one with a bellowing "How you dourin'?" And "Whatcha say, Mister C?"

Hours spent on the phone during the night talking about nothing and everything in particular. That was our time. 

Our time to live, laugh, and love. Now to remind Robb about his Doo Pa, and all that both mean to me and us. 

Saturday in the park

The last weekend of September brings about the prequel to De Kalb's annual Oktoberfest, better known as Saturday in the Park. We haven't been in a while but from the pictures posted online, it looks like a good time is being had by all accounts despite some rain. And mud. And chili. 

Thanks to Paula Booth for the picture.