Rick's Cafe

California Dreamin'

2010-12-07T23:19:00.125-06:00

Thanksgiving means family, and the family member we don't get to see very often is Patrick. Sandy's third-born lives in Fallbrook, CA - a fair commute from our small town home of New Braunfels, TX.

After mulling it over, Sandy decides she doesn't really care for flying that much, and Rick can do without the airport hassle.

So road trip it is!

We get an early start Saturday, November 20, and are soon on IH 10W heading for the desert. Our first rest stop is in Fort Stockton.

Dusk falls as we leave El Paso (and Texas) in the rear view mirror. By late Saturday night we finally pull into Las Cruces, NM for a well-earned night's rest.

Sunday morning finds us back on the IH 10 for round two. Our mid-day rest stop is at the Texas Canyon rest stop in Arizona, famous for its Dragoons rock formations.

In Casa Grande AZ, we say goodbye to good old IH-10, and take I-8 towards San Diego. Making it to the high mountain pass of the Cleveland National Forest just as dusk falls, we "enjoy" an exciting night time adventure, buffeted by high winds and passed by high-speed maniacs on the twisting mountain road.

Our Sunday night treat is a stay at the beachfront La Jolla Inn, in one of the Pacific coast's most beautiful areas. A chilly morning doesn't deter us from enjoying the stunning La Jolla beach.

Tide Pool

We meet up with Patrick and his family to take a tour of Old Town San Diego.

Above you see Nicole, Patrick, and Sandy (top), and Trent, Payton, Dylan, and Bailey (front).

Rick and Sandy with the kids at the old San Diego Union newspaper building.

Yes, you have big shoes to fill, Dylan.

Sandy and Rick sneak away to take a ferry ride from Sand Diego terminal to Coronado Island.

San Diego from Coronado Island

A nice ferry ride brings us to the Coronado landing.

Fallbrook is a verdant green, the opposite of what you might imagine of the southern California desert area. It's called the avocado capital of the world, and I can believe it. Avocado trees line the hillsides just about everywhere.

You can see the avocados hanging on the tree in the foreground. This view is from Grandpa Ed's home. It's a fun place for the kids too.

Robert and Patrick decide to enjoy a game of horseshoes - 'close' counts in this game!

Patrick is also in charge of turkey frying. Smell's good!

A Piney Fourth

2010-07-07T00:16:00.012-05:00

In this edition of Rick's Cafe, Sandy and Rick decide to get away for a one day vacation, a more or less improvised spur-of-the-moment trip for the July 4th holiday.

The ever ingenious Sandy quickly finagles our lodging: a "limited use" mini-cabin on the lake at Buescher State Park near Smithville, Texas. "Limited use" turns out to mean no bathroom, although there is a common bath/shower building about a hundred feet away.

That's roughing it! Sandy's no dummy, however; we do have A/C, lights, electric, bunk beds, and a small fridge.

The lake view is idyllic. Another one of Sandy's wonderful finds!

As darkness falls we are treated to a an eerie symphony of toads, a rather noisy affair that lasts most of the night. I managed to capture a little snippet of the free concert on my camera's video (the sound is the interesting part):

Morning of July 4th arrives and we get an early start on our way.

Goodbye, Mini-Cabin 1! We loved you well.

We take a leisurely drive through the scenic trail to the adjacent Lost Pines State Park.

I don't know how the pines got lost here in south Texas. Sandy says Indians brought in seedlings. That's as good a theory as any I can come up with.

Another short drive brings us to the bustling metropolis of Flatonia.

Anytown USA, July 4th
(actually it's Flatonia, Texas):

From Flatonia, we scoot along Hwy 90 to the little town of Praha, a Czech settlement dating from the mid-nineteenth century.The pride of Praha is the Catholic Church of St. Mary's.

St. Mary's Praha had its centennial in 1955!

Some interior views of St. Mary's - Praha

About the same time he Czechs made their way to Praha, a Moravian settlement was founded at Blum Hill (later High Hill). St Mary's at High Hill is about a fifteen minute drive from her sister church St.Mary's Praha.

Interior views of St. Mary's at High Hill

RLS VS OCD

2010-03-10T21:01:00.006-06:00

Yeah, I know what you're thinking. RLS (Restless Leg Syndrome) is one of those fake diseases made up by hypochondriacs and exploited by the Big Pharma to produce annoying commercials and sell expensive drugs. Well, maybe so.

All I know is once I hit the sack, that right foot starts doing the happy feet dance. It actually doesn't bother me unless I try to suppress the motion. The resulting sensation is very hard to describe...kind of like defining the color "red" to somone who has been blind for life. Did you ever do any distance running? Just think of that burning feeling in your leg muscles as lactic acid builds up. Then throw in a creepy tingling - as if thousand of tiny spiders were crawling around the insides of your legs.

So if it doesn't bother me unless I try to stop the motion (I hear you ask), why I in the world don't I just let it take its course? What's the point in trying to duke it out with your CNS sending phantom signals to your limbs?

Here's where the OCD (Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder) comes in. My poor wife has a, ahem..."heightened sensitivity" to certain sounds and motions, and my rhythmic leg movements are one of those annoyances. Now it's not like I'm kicking her; the actual range of motion is small. It's just that my constant leg movement is weirding her out and keeping her awake.

So, to keep the peace and avoid being any more of a selfish bastard than necessary, I toss this hot potato in the direction of my friendly family practioner.

He smiles and gives me that "I went to medical school for this?" shrug. Turns out there's no known cause or cure for RLS, just a vague set of symptoms (that's "syndrome" to you non-medical yokels).

So the good doctor prescribes a pill to add to my growing collection. Mirapex: yet another non-generic that my insurance will make me pay extra for.

So, does it work?

Kind of. Sometimes. It seems to help.

I've read a study of brain autopsies performed on RLS sufferers that suggests brain uptake of iron may be impaired. I'm going to try a little cocktail to help out the Mirapex.

This is suggested by the Life Extension Foundation, which I've found to be reliable source:

Folic Acid—400 to 800 mcg daily. Take with 500 to 1000 mcg of vitamin B12 daily in the form of methylcobalamin.

Magnesium citrate—100 to 250 mg before bed, depending on the severity of the symptoms.

Iron—Dosing is based on individual needs. Better forms are iron protein succinylate or iron bis-glycinate. Take with 250 to 500 mg of vitamin C to help the body absorb the iron.

We'll see how it goes.

Danger: Dinosaur Crossing

2010-02-27T13:24:00.004-06:00

Q: Why did the dinosaur cross the road?

A: Chickens hadn't evolved yet.

Q: Why did the dinosaur fail to cross the road?

A: Civil engineers hadn't evolved yet.

Q: Why did the psychic cross the road?

A: To cross over to the "other side".

Q: Why doesn't Fox News ever cross the road?

A: They don't believe there's another side.

Q: Why did Rick cross the road?

A: To pick up a sixpack from the Sak-N-Pak.

Q: Why did the paranoic cross the road?

A: What road? Who's asking?

Q: Why did Martin Van Buren cross the road?

A: No one really knows or cares.

Q: Why did the Tupolev Design Bureau cross the road?

A: To reverse-engineer it.

Q: Why did John Donne cross the toll road?

A: Ask not for whom the toll road tolls. It tolls for thee.

Q: Why did Nostradamus cross the road?

A: He had already foreseen he would do so and felt powerless to stop himself.

Q: Why did the chicken cross the Mobius strip?

A: To get to the same side.

The Heart is a Lonely Hurter, Part Two

2010-02-19T16:38:00.006-06:00

Click here for Part 1

My health insurance administrator is kind enough to send me periodic updates on the amounts they've paid out to doctors, hospitals, ambulance services, and lab tests. It's more than a little scary to contemplate the total financial burden I've placed on my brother (and sister) members of the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers, who in effect self-pay into our own insurance plan. More than a hundred grand, easy, and I'm not out of the woods yet. My only solace is the 35 years I've contributed to the fund with sicks days you could count on one hand.

It wasn't supposed to happen. Me, the solid oak...I could outwork the youngsters easily (and did). Many were the evenings, at the dead ends of twelve hour days and 70 plus hour weeks, when I and a handful of others were the only ones left manning a job. When it counted...when it had to be finished. Endurance is everything.

That's was my reputation: reliability and competence. It meant a lot to me. A hell of a lot.

3/7/09 midnight

A whirlwind week is ending. A unrecognized heart attack on Monday, hospitalization Tuesday night, and two stents implanted in the wee hours of Wednesday morning. A day of recuperation and release from the hospital by Friday. There is surprisingly little pain, mainly at night when I try to sleep. (My wife has set up a bed downstairs so I don't have to climb the stairs)

I'm profoundly grateful (that doesn't even begin to express it) to my wife for the way she has held up. Two wrecks at the same time doesn't cut it, not with a teenager in the house. But I know just how shaken up the last week has left her.

It's a cool still night, and I stand outside looking at the stars...all six of them. Hooray for civilization and light pollution. I remember summer nights at my grandmother's house - millions of crystal stars and the brilliant white smudge of the Milky Way splashed from horizon to horizon.

Suddenly, from nowhere, there are tears running down my face. Dude. Stop this. What the...remember Edmund Muskie. Glad no one is seeing this.

A few words about stents:

A stent is a spring-like medical device designed to be placed in artery to keep it open (See illustration above). The newer and more advanced stents have a drug-eluting coating that help prevents "restenosis," the return of clots and scar tissue that choke off blood flow. I have a total of four: the two implanted immediately after my heart attack plus two more implanted during a scheduled procedure 3 weeks later.

4/16/09

A dragging sense of limbo seems to have overtaken my life. It's been six weeks and my direction is more confused than ever. Our one income family status is slowly dragging us down, despite a small (temporary) disability stipend from our insurance. I'm trying to fast track my doctors into clearing me to return to work, but there are complications.

Dr. B, while implanting the second set of stents, saw something about my ventricular function he didn't like. He told my wife Sandy that the ejection fraction was too low, and the danger of heart arrhythmias worried him. An implanted debrillator could be an eventual solution, but he wanted a further test to get a more accurate picture of Rick's ventricular function.

Enter the MUGA!

My Career as a Boomer, Part One

2010-02-07T14:18:00.001-06:00

It's time, folks, for a little confession. Rick has been guilty of living an "alternative lifestyle." No, no, not that!

I'm talking about my short career as a "Boomer." A boomer, as you probably don't know, is a skilled craftsman (pipefitter, electrician, sheet metal worker, instrument tech, etc.) who travels gypsy-like across the nation following construction booms. The holy grail of the boomer is the big power house, high-rise hotel, or manufacturing plant that needs a lot of hands and is paying overtime wages. If you're lucky you might hit a long-term job working 6 - 10s with the occasional double-bubble Sunday as icing on the cake. If you hit one of those just right, you can gross a six figure income in a year...but that's rare.

The more usual outcome is a series of short jobs lasting weeks or maybe a month or so, with timeouts for traveling between jobs. Sometimes you just have to wait - no work, no income, a lot of unease. When you finally find a job, you have to wait another week to 10 days for that first precious check. You'll just be barely breaking even, after sending money home. "I'm here to make money, not spend it!" is the motto of the boomer, so a Spartan lifestyle is de rigueur. If your afraid of fleabag motels and transient hotels in the heart of the crack district, stay at home.

My boomer career began modestly enough with a visit to the IBEW Local 520 in Austin (January of '07 ), just a short jaunt from my home local in San Antonio. Austin, at that time, was a thriving hub of the semi-conductor industry, and demand for skilled craftsmen was high. As an added bonus, it was within commuting distance...if you call a three hour round trip drive "commuting."

My first job was at a Cisco Systems server farm in the upscale Jollyville suburb of Austin. Great bunch of guys and nice clean work, but a slim forty hour check hardly justified the commuting expense. After two months, I ditched Cisco for the big time: the Samsung chip fabrication facility in NW Austin. Fisk Electric was hiring 400+ electricians for a multi-billion dollar expansion of Samsung's existing facility. The overtime was nice: a 6 - 10 schedule with the promise of an occasional double-time Sunday to sweeten the deal.

Working at a chip plant was a real eye-opener. The clean room protocols made an operating theater seem gross in comparison. The suit up procedure took place in a kind of air lock anteroom. Full suit-up took about 15 minutes, followed by an inspection from a protocol officer, who made sure not square inch of bare skin was visible.

Even the slightest speck of dust was equivalent (on a microchip) to an enormous bolder dropping on a highway. Drilling a hole in a piece of metal, for instance, required one person to hold the drill and another worker holding a HEPA-filtered vacuum hose at the tip of the drill.

Technicians with air-sampling devices constantly prowled the plant testing the cleanliness of the air. Workers who failed to abide strictly by the protocols were swiftly shown the door.

The money was good, no doubt, but the stress of working 60+ hours a week gradually wore down even the hardiest. Zombification warred with determination in a tedious marathon to make it to the end of the week. If a threshold number of accidents occurred, Samsung officials would stand down the project for one or two rest days.

Part Two, coming up soon.

.

The Heart is a Lonely Hurter, Part One

2010-02-01T20:28:00.003-06:00

My heart attack...

It's almost a friend now. I've lived with it for almost a year now and it's turned my life upside down in every conceivable way. An intimate friend, but a very tough and demanding one.

3/2/09 9:30am:

It's a brilliant Monday morning and I'm at work south of downtown San Antonio running steel conduit - work I normally could do in my sleep. But for some reason I can't concentrate. My mind is wandering, beads of sweat break out on my upper lip, and a nasty litlle nausea keeps nagging at me. I try to climb up a stepladder, and the room begins to swirl.

Wait a minute. I didn't drink last night, so why do I have hangover?

My new friend, Mr. Heart Attack , governs my daily schedule. M/W/F is cardiac rehab, alternate Tuesdays for psych counseling, Thursdays I upload (via modem) accumulated data from my LifeVest, appointments for MUGA scans, echo cardiograms, EKGs, bloodwork, and of course the cardiologist. I've set up an online calendar (thank you, Google) to keep track of it all.

3/3/09 9:30 am

It's Tuesday morning...24 hours since I started feeling sick. I have to hold a gun to my head to get myself out of bed. Feel rotten, but not particularly concerned - you get sick, you get well, no big deal. I convince myself to drive the 2 miles to the local minor emergency clinic. Feel like I'm coming down with the flu.

The doctor gives me a quick strep throat screen (negative), and sends me home with anti-nausea meds.

My cardiologist (a lovely Indian lady...or perhaps Pakistani...I don't have the nerve to ask) has returned from out of town, and should be in possession of the latest MUGA scan results. At issue is a quantity called the "ejection fraction," a measure of the fraction of blood pumped out of a ventricle with each heart beat. If the EF is too low, there is a danger of abnormal heart rhythms. Dangerous, and potentially fatal.

3/3/09 8:30 pm

It's now Tuesday evening. For the past hour I've been hopping around like a frog on meth. I don't know what's wrong but I cannot force my body to remain still. My wonderful wife is looking at me strangely, half in concern - half in irritation. "What kind of show is he putting on now?" she seems to be thinking.

Then the hammer falls with a vengeance.

A pain in my left shoulder, like the mother of all dislocations. My chest has an industrial strength vise clamped around it and is only getting tighter. I tell my wife to take me to the emergency room of our small town hospital.

They don't waste any time. After an EKG and an enzyme test, they quickly stabilize me and transfer me to a large hospital in San Antonio...it's a thirty minute drive by ambulance, just enough time for an interventional cardiology team to be assembled. I'm wheeled directly into the cath lab and asked to sign some papers. "Don't worry," the Doctor jokes, "the actual procedure will take less time than this."

It's around midnight.

I am sedated, but fully aware of what was going on. After several hours I'm really scared. There is no denying the tension and frustration in the doctors' voices. It's not going to work, I'm thinking. "You idiot," I tell myself, "You waited a full 36 hours to get medical help!"

Finally after last ditch action, some success. The doctors finally break through the clotting by forcing in enormous amounts of clot dissolving meds. After verifying that distal flow is established, they are able to successfully implant two stents.

My God, I'm alive!

Part Two

The "capital" of the Austin music scene: 6th street

2010-01-03T13:58:00.007-06:00

Short video clip of SXSW Festival 2009 (Daytime is fairly mild - the night scene is rivalled only by New Orleans Mardi Gras).

6th Street is a historic street and entertainment district in Austin, Texas. East 6th Street is the center of the city's live music scene.

6th Street was formerly named Pecan Street under Austin's older naming convention, which had east-west streets named after trees and north-south streets named after Texas rivers (the latter convention remains in place). The area around nearby 4th Street and 6th Street is the heart of the Austin entertainment district. Many bars, clubs, music venues, and shopping destinations are located on E. 6th Street between Congress Avenue and Interstate 35 and many offer live music at one time or another during the week.

E. 6th Street plays host to a wide variety of events each year, ranging from music and film festivals (such as South by Southwest) to biker rallies (such as The Republic of Texas Biker Rally) and the Pecan Street Festival.

Traffic is generally blocked on E. 6th Street and most crossroads from I-35 to Brazos Street on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday evenings (depending on pedestrian traffic), as well as holidays and special events to allow the crowds to walk unfettered to the many venues that line the street. On New Year's Eve,Mardi Gras, and Halloween nights tens of thousands of revelers can walk only one way depending on the side of the street they are on.

The area of 6th Street west of Lavaca is known as the West 6th Street District. It is roughly bound by 5th Street, 7th Street, Lavaca Street, and West Ave. Recently, there has been a growing movement to develop this area as an entertainment district of its own, geared toward the live music crowd.

A Prayer for Owin' Money

2010-01-02T02:47:00.001-06:00

5/27/09

Oh holy market, give us a sign. We have wandered in the desert, been seared by the burning Bush, and genuflected at the feet of the Golden Bull.

Your invisible hand doth smite our fundaments, and its middle digit doth lead our vision heavenward. Give us the wisdom to heed your warnings, yet send us no more the mad prophets who speak the twisted tongues of Babel.

Deflate not our assets, oh holy market, and trickle down upon us the manna against which we have borrowed in your name.

Are you getting on, or not?

2010-01-01T12:26:00.006-06:00

John Cage tells this story:

"A crowded bus on the point of leaving Manchester for Stockport was found by its conductress to have one too many standees. She therefore asked, “Who was the last person to get on the bus?” No one said a word.

Declaring that the bus would not leave until the extra passenger was put off, she went and fetched the driver, who also asked, “All right, who was the last person to get on the bus?” Again there was a public silence. So the two went to find an inspector. He asked, “Who was the last person to get on the bus?” No one spoke. He then announced that he would fetch a policeman. While the conductress, driver, and inspector were away looking for a policeman, a little man came up to the bus stop and asked, “Is this the bus to Stockport?” Hearing that it was, he got on. A few minutes later the three returned accompanied by a policeman. He asked, “What seems to be the trouble? Who was the last person to get on the bus?” The little man said, “I was.” The policeman said, “All right, get off.”

All the people on the bus burst into laughter. The conductress, thinking they were laughing at her, burst into tears and said she refused to make the trip to Stockport. The inspector then arranged for another conductress to take over. She, seeing the little man standing at the bus stop, said, “What are you doing there?” He said, “I’m waiting to go to Stockport.” She said, “Well, this is the bus to Stockport. Are you getting on or not?”

John Cage, Indeterminacy, 175 John Cage . Indeterminacy

Why Pay Hundreds for Microsoft Windows?

2009-11-29T14:51:00.001-06:00

Microsoft has announced its pricing structure for Windows 7, and here's how it will stack up:...

Upgrade retail products

Windows Vista as of 1/2007	Price	Windows Vista as of 2/2008	Price	Windows 7 as of 10/2009	Price
Home Premium	$159.99	Home Premium	$129.99	Home Premium	$119.99
Business	$199.99	Business	$199.99	Professional	$199.99
Ultimate	$259.99	Ultimate	$219.99	Ultimate	$219.99

Full retail products

Windows Vista as of 1/2007	Price	Windows Vista as of 2/2008	price	Windows 7 as of 10/2009	Price
Home Premium	$239.99	Home Premium	$239.99	Home Premium	$199.99
Business	$299.99	Business	$299.99	Professional	$299.99
Ultimate	$399.99	Ultimate	$319.99	Ultimate	$319.99

If you Plan on purchasing the new Windows 7 OS, it will run you a cool $ 319.99 for the Ultimate Edition. Okay, you can probably wait a few months to buy a new PC with Windows 7 pre-installed, or even upgrade from Vista or Windows XP on your current computer - but in all reality the Microsoft licensing fee is built in to the cost of your new PC, so you're still paying one way or the other. (Incidentally, if you intend to upgrade to Windows 7 from XP, it will require a new "clean" install: you won't be able to download it and go.)

And that still leaves you with no productivity applications. Microsoft Office Home and Student will set you back around $150, while Standard, Professional, and Ultimate Editions start around $400 and range up to the $670 mark. Throw in additional software apps and it could easily end up costing more than the hardware itself.

You can't fight city hall, and you can't fight Microsoft, right? Why complain about the price, since you can't do any thing about it?

Here's a little secret. You can do something about it. There are alternatives to Microsoft (and not just Mac, either).

What would you pay for a modern, secure, and well-designed computer operating system with a complete office suite (including spreadsheet) and hundreds of professional-level applications available for download at the click of a button?

There is such a system, and it will cost you absolutely zero. The system I'm talking about is called Linux Mint.

First, a little history. In 1991, about a decade after Bill Gates was awarded a contract by IBM to develop a DOS (Disc Operating System), Linus Torvalds decided to develop a version of the mainframe operating system (UNIX) suitable for use in small computers.

Linux, as it became to be known, was from the start fundamentally different from Microsoft. It was part of a growing movement of dedicated professionals who passionately believed in free and open-source software, and who were dedicated to work together as a community to make that come about.

After more than 25 years of intensive development, Linux has graduated from a being toy for developers and programmers into a mature system suitable for use in the home desktop. Over the decades, Linux has become available in many different varieties, suitable for countless specialty applications, often of a scientific or highly technical nature.

These Linux "distributions," commonly known as "distros," serve every conceivable niche, but the ones we are concerned with are targeted to non-technical users for use on their desktops or laptops.

The most famous of these distros, Ubuntu, was the first to bring Linux to the masses, but my favorite is Linux Mint. Mint sets the standard for ease of installation, ease of use, and ease of installing new software.

Windows 7, A Review

2009-11-29T12:33:00.004-06:00

For the past few months, we've had the opportunity to preview the "new" Microsoft Windows OS (operating system). This successor to the much maligned Windows Vista has been available for download from the Microsoft website, so we decided to give it a spin. Windows 7, as it is known, is free to use until June 2010 - after that, you have to pony up to Microsoft, or revert back to your previous OS (Vista, in our case). The download, and more information, is available here.

If you'd like to try the free version, it might be best to hurry. Microsoft reports the release candidate will be available "at least" until July 2009 - after that, who knows?

The Windows 7 installation was pretty easy, even for a computer illiterate like me. You first download what is known as an ISO image file from Microsoft. Next you have to burn the file to DVD; make sure your computer can burn DVDs and that it is capable of burning ISO images (there are several free programs that burn ISO files, if your computer is not supplied with this capability). Microsoft supplies you with a "key" to activate your Windows 7 installation, so make sure you print the key code out and store it in a safe place.

Okay, now you have your two most important ingredients: a Windows 7 installation disc and the key code to validate it. But before you pop that disc into your DVD player, you should take care of a few preliminaries.

First you should read the Windows 7 download section and verify you have the minimum RAM and hard-disc memory to successfully operate your new OS. Make sure your download corresponds to your computer's architecture, either 32 or 64 bit. Then you need to locate your current system's restore disc (or make one if it wasn't supplied with your computer); this will enable you to restore your computer in case you decide Windows 7 is not to your liking, or your installation isn't successful. In addition, it would be prudent to back up important files, such as documents and pictures, to disc for later retrieval.

The actual Windows 7 installation took about 20 minutes. Simply place the DVD you created in the player, restart your computer, and follow the onscreen prompts. Your computer will automatically start and stop a few times, and then you will see a new screen that looks like this:

It didn't take us long at all to get Windows 7 set up for our personal preferences. Anyone familiar with Windows Vista will have no problem navigating the start menu, icons, and file system. However, you should be aware that the Windows 7 Release Candidate comes with no bundled software (other than the usual Internet Explorer). The first thing I did, after finishing the installation, was download the Firefox browser, Open Office Suite, and AVG Antivirus, all of which are free. The included Windows Firewall and Windows Defender (anti-spyware) seem to be quite sufficient.

All in all, Windows 7 seems to be a solid system - what Vista should have been.

UPDATE - 7/16/09

Microsoft will continue to offer downloads of the Windows 7 Release Candidate until August 20, 2009. You can get your activation key, installation instructions, and the OS itself at the download page. Starting October 22 it will be offered in new PCs and on store shelves.
Related articles by Zemanta

Microsoft announces free antivirus, limited public beta (arstechnica.com)
Microsoft ditches Windows 7 E plans (theregister.co.uk)

Lost Maples State Natural Area

2009-11-15T23:04:00.029-06:00

Sunday, 11/15/2009

"The Land That Time Forgot" might be an apt description of the Lost Maples State Natural Area in Texas. A holdover from the last ice age, the area is protected by surrounding mountains and has retained a colder and wetter climate than Texas desert, forest, and coastal areas. Lost Maples State Natural Area is located about 5 miles (8 km) north of Vanderpool, Texas and 71 miles (114 km) west of San Antonio. The park sits along the Sabinal River in western Bandera County and far eastern Real County.

The approach to the area is through steep passes carved through the Guadalupe Mountain Range, and enters into a high mountain plateau (elev 2100 ft).

Evidence suggests that the maples that give the park its name are relicts: remnants of a larger, more widespread population that flourished during the cooler and wetter climate of the last ice age. Today, soils and microclimate control their present distribution. Some of the flora and fauna are unique to Lost Maples.

In the heart of the Texas Hill Country, the 2,208-acre Lost Maples State Natural Area is an inspiring mixture of sheer limestone cliffs, deep canyons, dense woodlands, and numerous clear streams. Designated as a National Natural Landmark, Lost Maples State Natural Area contains the state's largest stand of bigtooth maples east of the Guadalupe Mountains. When conditions are right, the maple leaves put on a dazzling show of fall colors, attracting thousands of visitors to the park. Peak fall foliage viewing is during the last two weeks of October through the first two weeks of November.

Sandy and Rick decide to take advantage of the peak season (second week in November) and take a Sunday day trip to the Lost Maples reserve near Medina and Vanderpool.

Purple Sage meadow.

Castroville, the Alsace of Texas

2009-09-27T19:00:00.012-05:00

Castroville is a historic little town with a rich cultural heritage nestled in the Medina River Valley just 15 miles west of San Antonio. It is known as “The Little Alsace of Texas” because of its origins. The town was founded in 1844 by Henri Castro, for whom the town is named. The first European emigrant settlers in this area were mostly Catholic farmers from Alsace, a region of France, brought over to fulfill Castro’s contract to colonize vacant Texas Land. Calling themselves Alsatians, they were mostly of German decent speaking a dialect of German and French.

Henri Castro, founder of Castroville

Elegy for a Dead Soldier

2009-09-13T22:21:00.009-05:00

My father died at the end of May this year...just a couple of months past my own heart attack. It was surprise and a shock, of course; you can never be ready for the death of a parent. Dad was a young man during the Great Depression, and learned the craft of carpentry serving in the Civilian Conservation Corps. He joined the Navy after Pearl Harbor, later island hopping throughout the Pacific with the Seabees (somewhere we still have the set of dominoes he meticulously carved from native mahogany).

Image via Wikipedia

He was a classic representative of the "greatest generation," surviving the Depression, World War II, and supporting a family as a skilled tradesman - a member of the last generation that would extend respect to a man that worked with his hands.

Everything I learned about being a good man, I learned from him.

-------------------

Elegy For a Dead Soldier

Karl Shapiro, 1944

A white sheet on the tailgate of a truck
Becomes an altar, two small candlesticks
Sputter at each side of the crucifix
Laid round with flowers brighter than the blood,
Red as the red of our apocalypse,
Hibiscus that a marching man will pluck
To stick into his rifle or his hat,
And great blue morning-glories pale as lips
That shall no longer taste or kiss or swear.
The wind begins a low magnificat,
The chaplain chats, the palm trees swirl their hair,
The columns come together through the mud...

...The time to mourn is short that best becomes
The military dead. We lift and fold the flag,
Lay bare the coffin with its written tag,
And march away. Behind, four others wait
To lift the box, the heaviest of loads.
The anesthetic afternoon benumbs,
Sickens our senses, forces back our talk.
We know that others on tomorrow's roads
Will fall, ourselves perhaps, the man beside,
Over the world the threatened, all who walk:
And could we mark the grave of him who died
We would write this beneath his name and date:

EPITAPH
Underneath this wooden cross there lies
A Christian killed in battle. You who read,
Remember that this stranger died in pain;
And passing here, if you can lift your eyes
Upon a peace kept by a human creed,
Know that one soldier has not died in vain.

A Childhood Friend

2009-09-13T15:45:00.014-05:00

The year is 1958, the place is the southside of San Antonio. Midway between the ancient Mission San Jose and the abandoned Terrell Wells (a natural hot springs spa whose sulfuric rotten-egg scent wafted for miles) lay tiny working class tract houses, one of which was my childhood home. On lazy summer afternoons, the boys of the neighborhood would play baseball in the street or explore the woods adjacent to our subdivision...

Approaching dusk might bring out blinking lightning bugs, or if you were really sharp-eyed you might spot a horny toad on a tree branch or fence post. It wasn't actually a toad (the real name was horned lizard), but the crowning achievement of a summer day was to capture one of these creatures and drop it in your pocket.

I haven't seen a horny toad in 50 years. I suppose they're still around - some say they fell victim to the fire ant invasion from South America. Progress has its place, I suppose, but I'm glad not to have lived my childhood in the sadly depleted world I see around me now.

Take a look at:

Rick's Photoblog

Two Tons of Steel crash into Landa Park!

2009-09-13T09:54:00.014-05:00

Texas favorites Two Tons of Steel give a decidedly western swing twist to the Ramones punk classic Sedated. (2009 KNBT Crossroads Party):...

Rose Hill Manor

2009-09-07T15:37:00.021-05:00

Vacation time for Rick and Sandy! We had an overnight stay at the Rose Hill Manor, near Stonewall.

Our room was called the Carriage House.

Our short trip allowed for a little shopping in Fredericksburg, a trip to fort Martin Scott, a visit to the Wildseed Farms, and a quick stop at Luckenbach.

View slideshow:

Dinner was a four-course formal affair featuring quail stuffed with rice and cous-cous, canneloni, a chocolate box drenched in cherry syrup with strawberries and blueberries inside…that’s all I can remember, anyway!

King of the Texas Dance Halls

2009-08-20T22:53:00.009-05:00

In the long and storied history of the Texas dance hall, Gruene Hall holds a unique place. And it's not just because it's the oldest continually operating dance hall in the state of Texas, but also because it has served as both a launching pad and a continuing venue for some of the most influential musicians in American music. Gruene Hall has been pivotal in the careers of such musicians as George Strait, Lyle Lovett and Hal Ketchum, and has nurtured blues, rockabilly, folk, and singer/songwriter artists. This famous stage has also welcomed the likes of Bo Diddley, The Dixie Chicks, Jerry Lee Lewis, Garth Brooks, Willie Nelson, Merle Haggard, Junior Brown, Robert Earl Keen, Stevie Ray Vaughn, and many more.

Website:

Gruene Hall

Remembering LBJ

2009-06-29T14:45:00.017-05:00

The presidency of LBJ coincides roughly with my teenage years. Looking back, his presence looms large over my passage into adulthood. Most of us who are old enough to remember Lyndon Johnson will probably recall the vivid last months of his presidency. The American public had grown tired and disillusioned with the Vietnam War, and maverick Senator Eugene McCarthy had won surprising early primary victories against a sitting president. The final blow was the entry of Robert Kennedy into the primaries - even the brother of his ticket mate had turned against him.

A weary and defeated LBJ made his fateful decision: "I shall not seek, and I will not accept, the nomination of my party for another term as your President."

--------------

LBJ has been part of my family history for as long as I can remember. My maternal Grandmother voted for the young Congressman in the depths of the Great Depression. It didn't take long for LBJ to gain the fierce loyalty of his poor rural constituency.

It was the common wisdom of the day that a Republican could not be elected dogcatcher in Texas. The loyalty to Johnson (and the Democratic Party) would last for decades. Not until Nixon's "Southern Strategy," would the tide begin to turn. Along with the new prosperity, a wave of Republicanism swept the Lone Star State. It seemed Texans had forgotten their humble past.

Certainly LBJ never forgot his past. He was born in 1908 near Stonewall, in a small farmhouse on the Pedernales River. Despite the poverty of his childhood, this land never lost its hold on him. As family fortunes improved, Congressman (and later Senator) Johnson built a sprawling
ranch home that became a hub of political activity.

The LBJ Ranch is now a part of the National Park System, and is open to the public. Rangers lead guided tours of the home (no interior photographs are permitted, unfortunately). The residence, although large, is quite unpretentious, with plain furnishings. It's very little different from other ranch dwellings of the era.

The only hint that this was not an ordinary residence are the ubiquitous telephones in every room, and the Secret Service command center in an adjacent trailer.

In the old airplane hanger are some of LBJ's favorite vehicles. I love the Ford Phaeton from the thirties and the classic Continentals. One of Johnson's infamous pranks was to take foreign dignitaries on a tour of his ranch, head straight for the water, and scream "the brakes are out!" Of course, he neglected to mention the convertible they were riding in was amphibious.

----------

Despite the tragic end of his presidency, Johnson will be remembered as central figure in the reconstruction of the nation, first as an ally of FDR, and later shepherding the civil rights and voting rights measures through Congress.

Johnson was the greatest master of getting things done in Washington. His powers of persuasion were honed to perfection in a technique known as "The Treatment."

"Historians Caro and Dallek consider Lyndon Johnson the most effective Senate majority leader in history. He was unusually proficient at gathering information. One biographer suggests he was "the greatest intelligence gatherer Washington has ever known", discovering exactly where every Senator stood, his philosophy and prejudices, his strengths and weaknesses, and what it took to win him over. Robert Baker claimed that Johnson would occasionally send senators on NATO trips in order to avoid their dissenting votes. Central to Johnson's control was "The Treatment", described by two journalists:

The Treatment could last ten minutes or four hours. It came, enveloping its target, at the LBJ Ranch swimming pool, in one of LBJ's offices, in the Senate cloakroom, on the floor of the Senate itself — wherever Johnson might find a fellow Senator within his reach.

Its tone could be supplication, accusation, cajolery, exuberance, scorn, tears, complaint and the hint of threat. It was all of these together. It ran the gamut of human emotions. Its velocity was breathtaking, and it was all in one direction. Interjections from the target were rare. Johnson anticipated them before they could be spoken. He moved in close, his face a scant millimeter from his target, his eyes widening and narrowing, his eyebrows rising and falling. From his pockets poured clippings, memos, statistics. Mimicry, humor, and the genius of analogy made The Treatment an almost hypnotic experience and rendered the target stunned and helpless."

Image via Wikipedia

One last picture, and we're on our way home.

Zephyr Nods in Your Direction

2009-06-15T16:01:00.015-05:00

Our youngest family member is Zephyr, a five year old Paint. He resides at a ranch near Luling, Texas, until he can join us after we retire and move to the country.

(Video editing by Sandy)

The Mystery Ranch

2009-06-09T19:12:00.052-05:00

The Light of the World illuminates rural Texas.

If you take a spin on the interstate, cruising east along I-10 past Seguin, you will see something rather curious and unexpected. Off to your right, in place of the usual cow pastures, mesquites, and cacti, arises a bizarre vision. A Shrine Circus with minaret domes, perhaps? An Algerian village abducted by aliens and plopped down in the vastness of central Texas?

We've passed it dozens of times and had fun speculating as to its nature and origin. Finally I decide to investigate this mystery - armed with a single clue: an ornate sign along the highway proclaiming the Silver Wolf Ranch.

Information about the ranch is not easy to find, but I did run across an archived article in the San Antonio Express-News:

"KINGSBURY — Almost every day, at least a few of the 27,600 motorists who drive Interstate 10 through this speck of a ranching community pull over to check out a curious fenced ranch just off the highway.

Easily visible from the interstate, twin white domes of a massive structure poke up like mushrooms from the private 340-acre forested reserve. A giant bronze bison statue stands in plain view, as do live stick-legged emus and ostriches.

But tourists never get through the well-appointed limestone facade entrance that beckons them into the Silver Wolf Ranch. As they have for 10 years since the property came under new ownership, polite Spanish-speaking workers shoo away the camera-toting motorists with the same unrequited promise: The ranch is just about to open.

The land, a 40-minute drive from San Antonio, remains just as enigmatic to immediate neighbors left to ruminate — sometimes darkly — about relentless construction activity, howls of unseen wolves, reports of gun-carrying guards, and especially the tint-windowed SUV caravans for which the gates do occasionally open.

“I don't know nothing; I don't want to get involved,” said neighbor Jesse Weinaug, who owns a cattle ranch next door. “They don't come over here. I don't go over there. It ain't none of my business.”

The property, it turns out, is the private playground of a Mexican family that has grown immensely wealthy and politically powerful while ruling as a dynasty over the controversial religious denomination known as Iglesia La Luz del Mundo, or the Light of the World Church.

The Pentecostal-like denomination's supreme leader, the iconoclastic 71-year-old Apostle Samuel Joaquin Flores, is viewed as a messianic figure to be worshipped as a direct link to God and obeyed by church faithful in Mexico and abroad.

Some of Joaquin's nine grown children, themselves considered quasi-divine royalty, have transformed their Texas land into a lavish private zoo-themed family retreat for their father's enjoyment on the scale of some owned by American pop stars or Saudi oil sheiks.

The Guadalajara, Mexico-headquartered denomination, which claims 5 million members worldwide, a figure disputed by some religion researchers, is not without some tenacious allegations of wrongdoing against Joaquin involving abusive treatment of followers."

The Silver Wolf Ranch remains as mysterious as ever, but (at least so far) there have been no threats against neighbors or any hint of confrontation. Texans are wont to mind their own business, and the Light of the World people aren't acting like Branch Davidians or the infamous "Republic of Texas."

Image via Wikipedia

La Luz del Mundo headquarters, Guadalajara

You Really Can Go Home Again...

2009-06-07T22:01:00.019-05:00

You really can go home again...

...Even if home is not quite the same.

It's a nice, warm Sunday afternoon. Of course, when I say "warm" that really means hot enough to melt the rubber on your tires down to the rims...a typical South Texas summer day. This ain't Phoenix, friends...it's not a dry heat. In fact, the air has a suffocating molasses thickness that discourages all but the most foolhardy from venturing from their air-conditioned cocoons.

Speaking of foolhardy, that naturally brings to mind Rick and Sandy. We decide it's the perfect occasion to visit my dad's childhood home in McMahan, Texas.

Grandfather Riley, and his wife Myrtle, raised my dad Monroe (known by his middle name Hulon) and a flock of brothers and sisters. Thelma May (b 1911), Roy Lafayette, Willie Missouri, Monroe Hulon (b August 1915), Glenn Randolf (b January 1917), Anthia Thira (b April 1919), Cynthia Eliza (b 1921), Beatrice Illine (b 1922), Mattie Evelyn (b 1925), and George Marlon (b 1927) made up the clan. The snapshot above is the family homestead.

A few miles down the road was the general store, still standing (although it's sadly no longer a country store). It's some kind of nightspot, now:

When I was a child, this store was still open with its barrels of staple foodstuffs. It didn't survive the advent of convenience stores, big grocery chains, and Walmart. If we're truly looking at the long downslope of peak oil, as geologists claim, maybe the general store will make a comeback.

Right across the street from the general store was the McMahan post office, which along with the Baptist Church formed the backbone of depression-era small town Texas.

Fill 'er up, and check the oil.

Just up the hill is the Bethel Primitive Baptist Church (my Mom, who attended the "regular" Baptist Church, called them "Hardshells"). The Hardshells sang traditional shaped-note hymns without accompaniment, and Bethel still hosts groups such as the Sacred Harp Singers who keep the tradition alive.

Next to the Bethel Church is the Jeffrey Cemetery, the final resting place of my father and mother, my brother Michael, and in due course my own.

In the end, we really do return home.

The Gingerbread Castle

2009-06-04T18:40:00.020-05:00

Caldwell County Courthouse in Lockhart, Texas

"The cornerstone was laid on August 15, 1893 and the building was completed on March 19, 1894. Built by the architectural firm of Martin, Byrnes and Johnston, the structure features mansard roofs and a high central tower with a four way Seth Thomas clock. The three-story edifice is built of Muldoon limestone with red Pecos sandstone trim. Although originally equiped with electricity, the courthouse had no indoor plumbing. Broom closets were later converted into restrooms. It is said that when the first water bill was received, the county judge was so shocked at the charges that he padlocked the restrooms. After a ten year effort involving hundreds of people in the county, a complete historic restoration was completed in the spring of 2000. The courthouse was rededicated in April 2000. "

http://www.lockhart-tx.org/web98//history/caldwellcountycourthouse.asp

While you're in Lockhart, it would be a crime not to stop in at Kreuz Market and pick up a couple of links of sausage and some barbecue. The smokehouse may look like a scene from Dante's Inferno, but the eatin' is pure heaven.

Kreuz Market has been around since 1900. The building above is a new location, although the Kreuz's I remember from my childhood is still standing - now known as Smitty's.

Take a look at:

Rick's Photoblog

Rick's Cafe

California Dreamin'

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There is an unusual raised lectern on the side of the church:

You don't really expect to walk into a small-town Texas church and see something this magnificent:

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Santa Anna replaced Mejia, but by that time a diplomatic effort by the US and Great Britain persuaded him to spare most of the prisoners. Santa Anna, after the fashion of the Roman Legions, decided to "decimate" the Texans (kill every tenth prisoner).

The remains of the executed prisoners were eventually repatriated to Texas and lie at this spot on the banks of the Colorado.

Monument Hill State Park is a quiet, peaceful place. We really liked it. There's a spectacular view of the bluffs overlooking the Colorado River.

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