Good read

Currently reading:

Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI

Usually my reading is either for entertainment or instruction. This is a whole different experience for me. At first I was enticed by the stories that Charles RedCorn told me in his kitchen many years ago of some of the Osage murders, none of which are documented by the point that I've reached so far in the book. So I decided to give it a read.

When the author wrote of the boarding schools where children were forced to assimilate I recalled my grandma Katy telling me how the girls were beaten for speaking Creek (Seminole) instead of English and how she cried when she was forced to wear ugly stiff leather shoes while she was at the Emahaka Mission boarding school near Wewoka.

Pawnee Bill was briefly discussed and I thought of where I used to shoot skeet near his ranch outside of Pawnee.

Frank Phillips is discussed at length and I'm reminded that the second real piano that I ever plinked around on first belonged to his sister-in-law in New Mexico. Now I play every day. I proposed to my wife in his brother's garden in Tulsa.

The tribal allotment system designed to take tribal lands away from the tribes over time was briefly outlined. A few years ago I was notified of my claim to inheriting a plot of land about big enough to dig a cat hole, but so far out in the scrabble that I couldn't realistically find it anyways. The system worked.

The very first Boy Scout troop in the U.S., which was a bunch of Osage boys in Pawhuska, formed a search party to aid in the investigations. I'm an Eagle Scout and had a scout meeting tonight.

This book is different because I can see direct progressions from its documented events and people to parts of who I am now.

Maybe 1/4 of the way through now. Hope that remains 3/4 continues to deliver.

critical mass

So the stress has been building up over the past few months. I can't say that I'm any sort of special case, or that the bad stuff in my life is any worse than the bad stuff in your life. It's really not all that bad when I try to put it into perspective; my family loves me, my dog adores me, and all of my bills are paid with a little money left in the bank.

Here's a short rundown of the stuff that won't hurt anyones feelings that doesn't have it coming to them,...... and what it drove me to.

Within the past five or six weeks, three of the doctoral students in the economics program I'm in have dropped from the program. One will have to leave the country now, going back to China to tell here family. Another was lucky enough to obtain late acceptance from another program, and is waiting to see if his Fulbright Scholarship will be permitted to apply the other program. Otherwise, it's time to get on that big jet plane across the ocean for him too. The third has been a friend for years and is really just an all around nice guy. He'll be sticking around the U.S., but the professional future seems to be in limbo. This is kind of a big deal because the department admits from 3 to 8 people a year into the program, making this a relatively high attrition rate. They've spent their lives setting the curve, taking all of the advanced honors classes, being the stars of their high schools and universities. Now the devastation of feeling as if they don't have what it takes to cut the mustard. There's sadness for my former colleagues, but also stress for me because this makes me wonder if I'm going to make it to the end.

I'm seeing little to no aesthetic results from daily exercise and healthy diet. In most ways I feel better, but burning lungs and screaming knees will put a sour note into just about any workout.

I just found out that I'm diabetic a couple of weeks ago. Really thought that I was making health improvements by leaps and bounds too, up to that point. My blood pressure was really good and my physician has been stunned by how good all of my cholesterol levels looked in the past 7 or 8 months. I mean, I don't have to take medicine or anything like insulin, but refined sugar is definitely off the menu.

Here's the proverbial back breaking straw; passed the guy that my ex had an affair with and is now shacked up with while I was on my way to the gym this morning. What is he even doing up that early in the morning? Sneaking home from a different girls apartment? I've caught the guy sneaking in the back door of my ex's house back in those days and caught him with other women since the two of them became serious, but believe me when I say this, I do NOT ever want to see him again. Just creates stress in my life.

Okay, these things aren't pleasant to hear about, and they're not pleasant to write about either, but it is therapeutic for me.

To finally release some of the pressure I needed to do something, anything that would get rid of all the dang stress. This really called for something silly. Okay, judge me as you may, but I did it anyway. Here it is. I thought to myself what is something that I can do to other people that won't hurt them physically, financially, and I haven't really done before? It came to me. This is a major university and there are hundreds, maybe thousand of computers that are easy to access. I took some of my time and went around to different computers to see if anyone had neglected to log out of their Facebook or Netflix accounts. Bingo!!! It seems that many people leave that stuff wide open. Probably because they just don't think to log out. Sure, it's juvenile to falsely announce that someone is coming out of the closet on Facebook, and I know that I'm too old to order someone Carmen Electra's "Fit to Strip" workout video, but it made me feel better.

With caller ID, the days of annonymous prank phone calls are over. It's very sad, but this is what I came up with instead. I miss asking "Is your refrigerator running?" and "Do you have Prince Albert in a can?"

Sometimes I wish it was still the good old days when the little bit of steam I had to blow off could be relieved by sticking a sleeping friend's hand in warm water or putting Nair on the occasional eyebrow.

I'm dealing with it. I should be okay now for at least a few more months. Until then, I wonder what the guy who has recently watched a conservative Anne Coulter movie and had a "Left Behind" movie in line to arrive next from Netflix will think when instead he gets a copy of "Another Gay Sequel: Gays Gone Wild."

I keep getting older, they stay the same age

So I was having this glorious day yesterday...... conquered the gym like gangbusters, got plenty of work done, and turned a few lightbulbs on for some college seniors that seem to be fighting the idea of learning with every ounce of energy available to them. About 9:00 I head back to the office, let class out early because there's an exam next time. Who's still in the office? Why it's my always reliable Moroccan amigo Mouhcine, who has also been very productive for the day. Well this kind of day certainly calls for a celebration.

The weather has been beautiful for the past few days, at least the weather link on my desktop tells me so. We're no dummies, so without missing a beat we promptly stowed our gear and relocated to the Stonewall biergarten for libation and stimulating conversation under the stars. Started off predictably with some bad music and good beer, then the Wednesday night college scene started taking a turn down a road I never expected to travel down so soon in my life.

Quickly Mo and I started to notice that there is a new trend in clothing this spring. Ladies, gentlemen, and perverts alike, micro shorts have made a comeback. Mo was quick to comment, "The only way these girls could wear any less clothing is if they just came in bikinis. It'll be swimsuits next week." Now most of you that know me may expect that this was the result of some karmic reward to me for living right and silently enduring an abusive ex-girlfriend. Shoot, not that long ago I would have agreed with you. Oh ho ho, this could not have been further from the truth.

I didn't foam at the mouth, rush home for my puppy companion (easiest way to break the ice), or even catch myself uncontrollably ogleing. Instead, I was overtaken by this idea that, hey, these girls look like they're 12. Their dads would pop blood vessels in their brains if they saw how their daughters were dressed right now. Oh, but it didn't stop there....

Mo showed up at the table with our third pitcher of the evening and as I watched him yawn I realized, I kind of wish there wasn't a crowd so that we could hear each other, I don't really want any more beer, and if I left now to return to my quiet house a couple of blocks away I would be more than satisfied.

What did all of this mean? What kind of a freakish monster am I becomeing? I keep pinching myself and nothing is changing, so I must not be dreaming/having a nightmare.

When I shared with Mo the storm that was raging in my mind, he offered sage like wisdom that brought it all into focus. "Simple, you're not depressed anymore. What you feeling is contentment."

"What about the girls?" I said.

"Well, they are little kids. Just listen to some of their conversations." He said.

He was absolutely right. Oh believe me, dear reader, I like women. I like a woman's smell, strength, practicality, shape, intelligence,................. I like all things about women that make them the dominant sex. I just am not attracted to girls any more.

As Matthew Mcconaughey stated in the movie Dazed and Confused. "I keep getting older, they stay the same age."

Well, I'm happy getting older, and when I was their age I was really good at it.

Now I'll be good at being older.



Dale......out

A Dear John to cable

Dear cable:

You have been a very comforting friend in my time in need. Over the past few years you have helped me get through some very tough times when I was down. Always ready to give when I needed to forget my sadness. You provided escape in your classic movies and lifted me up with your simple minded sitcoms. For the longest time I found refuge in your Cartoon Network and Comedy Central. Sure, I didn't like some of the people you hung with, your political "experts", "reality TV", and morning shows, but you never forced them upon me. Always letting me turn away without question or judgement. Most of our time together was happy, or at least happy relative to what much of my time not spent with you over these past few years was. All of this you provided to me for a mere $50 per month, or so I thought.

The horizon I looked to over this time has changed. I have taken a hard look at my own life and now see that our relationship has grown complicated and unhealthy. In our time together, I became a bit too comfortable in your company. I gradually watched my waist broaden, my step become slow. The laboriously sharp honed edges of my mind became dull, and as days turned to months, followed by months turning to years I find myself wondering what happened to the precious time, of which we are granted so little?

Now I grow so very weary of the once glorious and welcome numbness that you provided me. I long for the days of joy and pain provided of my own design, not by your network programmers. The time has come when we find ourselves on divergent paths. The refuge that you once offered has metamorphasized into a prison.

Mourn not, dear cable, for this great country of ours finds itself in an economic recession, providing so many other opportunies for you to offer the same comfort to so many countless people in need of the very same services that you offered me.

Do not worry for me. I have my own ambitions again. Now I will move forward, reinvigorated and prepared to discover literature new to me and remaster the fine art of conversation which used to be such a great passions of mine, but have too long been neglected in my own self-loathing and bouts of melancholy for days best left in the past.

Tomorrow I will sever our relationship, dearest cable. Fear not, for you shall be in my memories. If ever I need you again I will call upon you, for I know that you shall be patiently waiting, never holding a grudge with any embitterment or malice. Maybe one day we may meet again as a result of happy circumstance. Think of it, cable, there may be a woman in my life one fine day that demands your company, or children that yearn for your Sesame Street and Sponge Bob offerings. Sadly, we may also meet again in darker times when I seek out your sweet and seductive embrace. Either way, this is probably not goodbye, just two close companions, each wishing the other to fare well.

I shall always remember fondly our glorious time together, and write the history of our excesses and misdeeds in the sand to be washed away forever.

Yours,

Dale