CRAB!

CRAB!
Originally uploaded by stuchap

Need a place to go away from people and on a beach? I recommend Daulphin Island, Alabama.

Cooked.

Cooked.
Originally uploaded by stuchap

Same song second verse...(see the previous post)

Dry Turtle.

Dry Turtle.
Originally uploaded by stuchap

Stumbled across this poor guy down on his luck. No water. No friends. No lettuce.

Sitting with "Oklahoma"

When I was 7 years old, my best friend told me the secret to becoming Native American. It sounded simple enough. Anytime I had a scab on my body, I was to pick it and suck the blood. Sounds gross now, but it was perfectly logical to a 1st grader. After 2 years of picking scabs, I was no more Indian than when I started. I wanted to be Indian because I thought it would be cool. I grew up watching Gene Autry and Roy Roger movies where I always pulled for the Indians.

I recently had the privilege of listening to the story of James Thompson who is everything I wanted to be as a 7 year old...100% Choctaw Indian. It is said that he is the great grand son of Chief Allen Wright who first purposed the name "Oklahoma" (meaning Red People) for a territory that never materialized but the US used it to name its 46th state.



Mr. James told of a story I had never heard first hand. A story of discrimination and hardship. Adopted at an early age in Oklahoma, his name changed from Buford Wright to James Thompson. He was the only Native American in the town he grew up in. At that time, Native Americans were not well received. In fact, prior to the Civil Rights Laws, it was not uncommon to find three separate drinking fountains labeled "Whites," "Colored" and "Indiain." According to Mr. James, the names he was called were so embarrassing and hurtful he would not repeat them. Much of the time, it was a chore for him to attend school because of the eager farm boys ready to prove their dominance on the lonely Indian. Never before this interview, did I realize the hardships Native Americans faced post-WWII.

With age, he began standing up for himself. There is no doubt in my mind that this childhood shaped Mr. James into a tough man. Despite the tribulation he faced because of his race, he decided to serve his country during the Korean War. This is a credit to his character. He fought as an Airborne Ranger whose job was to patrol and probe, scout and destroy, attack and ambush the Chinese and Korean enemy.



The pride he has for his heritage is obvious with the various Native American decor throughout his house. The honor he took in serving his country is evident through his stories. His life motto "Second to none, a Ranger doesn't run."

Chik Masire

This guy's name is Chik Masire. He was born in 1938 in Maun, Botswana. He is the son of a Romanian gypsy and a Botswana banana farmer. When Chik was 5, his father was forced into African slavery where he herded giraffes. A year later, Chik's mother ran away to live with elephants. Since that day, he has been enrolled in The School of Hard Knocks. With nobody to care for him, he was left on the streets of Africa to fend for himself. Music was the way of the gypsy and the tambourine/castanet was taught to him by his momma. Armed with his voice, a tambourine, and castanets, Chik made his living panning for money. He claims he rode a sea turtle to New Orleans. Although doubtful, I have not been able to disprove this claim. When he arrived in New Orleans, he never got back on the turtle. Today, you can find Chik armed with his instruments and his voice in Nawlins... panning for money.

I was in New Orleans not long ago and I saw this guy walking down the street. At the time, I did not have the nerve to talk to him or see if he could play me a jig. So instead, I snapped this quick picture of him. Because I have this picture and no story, I have decided to make up a story, the story you just read.

Stare Down (or Up)

...in green (pants)

Death, doom, and gloom flash across the headline news. World banks have failed. Countries are at war. Job layoffs are on the rise. People are hesitant to invest, fearful of losing their job, and not traveling.

I want to pause on not traveling.

That is a bit of an over statement. People are traveling for personal travel, but across the board, they are shaving their budgets and trimming the fat. Luxuries are the first to go which includes personal travel or vacations.

So, what are they doing? Going to State and National Parks!  Well, at least recent reports and news articles are indicating that visitation for parks have dramatically increased in recent months...for good reason.  There's lots to do and see. Its a short drive. Plus, it's cheap.

For a short time, I worked for Texas Parks & Wildlife Department at a State Park. Hear me say a lot of work goes into maintaining and managing parks. Lawns don't mow themselves.  

Behind every State/National Park are the great men and women in green (pants). I want to salute a few of the men I worked with at Brazos Bend State Park...

Eager to have a good time is Kyle.


Always ready to tell a joke to lighten the mood is Gary.


Laughs are never far away from Mr. Fix-it, Jeff.


Stories both true and made up to break the silence are a constant from Jim.


There to make it happen and manage the rangers is Richard.


Honest, funny, and hard-working are just a few of the many characteristics that define Buddy.

These are just a few of the folks in green (pants) that are making your and my vacations happen. For that, I salute them. Why? Because we love vacation even in the mist of death, doom, and gloom!