Category Archives: Boring Personal History

Way Back When – Faversham, Kent UK

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In 1985 while living in Dallas, pre-Sweetie and pre-SuperPizzaBoy I bought a round trip ticket to London and a two week rail pass and took off. No hotel reservations, just me and what I could carry. It was my two week adventure and I had lots and lots of fun and saw all sorts of stuff.

In the morning I would go to the train station of whatever town I was in and see where the trains were going. I’d hop on one that seemed likely and then get off when the Spirit led me and just hoped that I would find a place to stay. I always did. I went all over England and Scotland. The people were great. All I had to do was ask and I would get whatever directions, advice, and aid that I needed. Back then the television show “Dallas” was big, even in England and when folks found out I was from Dallas, some would almost swoon. I found the English people to be very nice and polite and very talkative if you got them started.

I stopped in Faversham briefly to get something to eat and look around a bit. A couple of policeman stopped and chatted with me and told me where to go eat and what to go see. They were the friendliest cops I have ever met.

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I didn’t take very many pictures. Remember when you had to worry about film? Poor old Al Gore was feverishly working on creating the internet so we could post all sorts of pictures to show each other.

Anyway, everything worked out great. The cops sent me an Italian restaurant where I had a great meal. I walked around and looked at a few places, talked with a few more people, took a few pictures, and got back on the train and went on to London that night.

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Anyways I liked Faversham the best of all the places I visited. It didn’t have big cathedrals or museums and I had never heard of it before but it had the nicest people I met on my trip.

Way Back When

Alan Cutting Wood

Here’s Yogi, 1967, 43 years ago in Eagar, Arizona up in the White Mountains. We burned wood for heat in our house so brother and I got to cut it, split it, and then stack it. We didn’t have any chain saw we used that saw you see me holding in my hands.

We didn’t think we were anything special, that’s how most people in town heated their house.

The hard part was hauling enough split wood from the log pile to the house, every day.

We thought we had it easy with the wood. Where we lived before in Price, Utah we took turns shoveling coal into the automatic stoker that fed our furnace. If it was my night I had to hurry down after dinner so I didn’t miss my shows. You know Addams Family, Combat, 12 O’Clock High, Destry Rides Again, Fort Apache. You GenX people don’t know what the heck I’m talking about do you?

So, can you now understand why I am in the natural gas industry? It’s a lot less work heating the house.

Where Do I Come From?

This pictures tells you a lot about where I come from:

That’s me with the Smokey Bear. The Forest Ranger is my Dad. The place is somewhere in New Mexico. I have no memories of it. We also lived at the Coyote Ranger Station in New Mexico and then in the Ranger Station at Payson, Arizona. We lived in government owned houses. I remember the houses in Coyote and Payson had the exact same floor plan. The houses were located right on the property of the office and warehouse. So we grew up very familiar with Forest Service trucks.

and Forest Fires

(top two photos from flckr.com)

My older brother and I, who was about 5 at the time, used to strut around the yard and warehouse kind of keeping an eye on things and asking the workers what they were doing. I guess that we figured that since Dad was the Ranger, well, that made us second and third in charge. A National Guard officer showed up one day to talk to Dad who wasn’t there. While waiting he was joshing brother Bob and I a little about what he was planning on doing. We puffed up and told him that he better check with Dad before he started.

We didn’t get our own house until Dad got promoted into a Forest Supervisor’s office in Price, Utah. We stayed there for five years and then we moved to Eagar, Arizona.

Dad did various things for the Forest Service but everybody fights fires as their backup job. Sometimes during really dry summers he would be gone for weeks at a time helping fight huge fires in Montana, Idaho, and who knows where. One day he would show up exhausted. We got real close to Mom. We played games and drank pop and worried about and missed Dad.

I was a Forest Service kid, as were my brother and sister. My Mom was a Forest Service wife. It was kind of like being in the army I think. It was very close knit. The employees and their families socialized quite a bit. Wherever we moved we already knew somebody. My Dad who has been retired over 25 years still attends a  reunion campout in Quemado Lake, New Mexico with his former coworkers and their wives. Mom has been gone for some years now but when she was still around she looked forward eagerly to the reunions.

So, we were always on the outside of wherever we lived. I mean the residents were very welcoming and we participated in whatever the school and the community had to offer but it wasn’t like I ever expected to stay anywhere. People will tell you that “the kids will be fine” about a move and that is true but I can tell you that it is gut wrenching to say goodbye to your friends and move hundreds of miles away and often never. I think that an entire Boomer generation went through the same thing and that’s why many people refused to move so much when they had kids. Its too hard on the kids I think. I’ve been there.

During my sophomore year in high school we moved from Springerville to Albuquerque. Talk about night and day. From very conservative, close knit, ranching and logging community in the White Mountains of Arizona to an ultra liberal city at the tail end of the 1960’s. Talk about culture shock, especially for the kids. It took about a year for us to find a social group to fit into. It all worked out for the best though. I got along with my parents very well and stayed at home while I went to college except when I worked as a summer roustabout in the oilfields of West Texas.

So, that’s where I came from!

I am participating in a new meme sponsored by the “Real Housewives of Oklahoma” aka “RHOK.” They are the the some of the smartest and talented bloggers in Oklahoma. One in particular, Miss Priss, was recently voted, “Hottest Mommyblogger” in Oklahoma. So go check them out.

The theme of the meme this week is “Where Do I Come From”

Juke Boxes

One of my favorite bloggers Jen of “Are You There God, It’s Me Generation X” had a post the other day about our disappearing record stores. It made me all nostalgic about record stores and record albums and such as that and mourning the loss of record stores and the role music plays in our life. It seems like most music these days is listened on to on Ipod’s and not really shared. Everybody is doing there own thing.

SuperPizzaBoy had occasion to visit the Tulsa History Museum the other day and, guess what, they had a working juke box that one could play for free.

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So SPB picked a song and then hit the letter and the number to play. The machine gave a good solid “KATHUNK!” with each press and we heard Frank Sinatra’s “My Way.” Of course SPB being himself picked the next song by playing hitting two buttons at random and so we got the Partridge Family or somethin.

When I was the age SPB is now we lived in Price, Utah. We had a favorite Mexican food restaurant in the nearby coal mining town of Helper. We used to go to the restaurant on a Friday or Saturday night and there was a always a war going on. They had a juke box and some of the local teenagers would put their quarters in to play what my Mother called “Wild hippie music.” The older’s would complain and the waitresses, who were older, would turn the volume down by some knob on the back of the machine muttering “I don’t know why them kids play there music so loud.” As soon as they went to the back, the kids would jack the volume back up. And on it would go.

Maybe that’s where I developed my love for chaos and conflict? Anyway, I thought it was great.

Anybody else out there miss juke boxes?

Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightening Thief

Saturday night the Yogi’s and SuperPizzaBoy’s buddy Nicholas loaded up and we went to see The Lightening Thief. I was dreading it. Kids movie, ugh. Turned out I was wrong. It was pretty decent. So it was a kids movie that is tolerable for adults.

It brought back lots of memories. All the Greek Mythology brought back memories of my World Lit class in High School. One of the characters even looked a little like her.

Hey I was one of the few dweebs who loved World Lit. Especially Greek Mythology. I have forgotten almost all of it though. Along with everyone else.

The Greek Fury that in the movie reminded me of Mrs. Randall my first grade teacher in Payson, Arizona.

Oh yeah, I can deal with mean looks. I can’t tell you how many times Mrs. Randall slapped me out of my chair. I was lucky enough to get her in the 48th year of a distinguished 56 year teaching career. She was definitely old school. Dealing with a Fury’s dirty looks would be a breeze.

This is the only G rates fury image I could find. The furies are major hot!! Except Mrs. Randall, she was not!!

So enough with the trip down memory lane and back to the movie. I give it three stars out of four.

The movie has a web site but it is a yawner. Not much fun there. They need to step up. Most movie web sites these days have lots of information, games, and photographs.

Dogtown – Death and Enchantment in a New England Ghost Town by Elyssa East

Dogtown is one funky little book. It is a non-fiction book about an inland area named Dogtown near the City of Gloucester, Massachusetts. The area was a village in the colonial era but was soon abandoned and has not been inhabited since. It is legally a commons area, owned and administered by the city, but it has been pretty much ignored. The area has inspired some famous artists (Marsden Hartley is the most famous) and poets but there has been some strange stuff including a very brutal murder. The book is ultimately about whether places in and of themselves can be evil.

It’s an interesting question. It seems that some places we find good or inspiring. The Grand Canyon, Yellowstone Park, Mesa Verde have all been described as great places. Why can there not be evil places. I don’t know. Back in my pipeline construction days there were some areas that just gave me the willys and there other areas I loved. While geocaching out in the boonies right on the Red River which is the Oklahoma – Texas border I found myself in an area that spooked the crap out of me. Researching it later I found that was a popular body dumping spot and there were allegations of satanic rituals carried out in a nearby Indian cemetery. I didn’t know any of this when I was at the site. I do know, I found the cache and got out of there as fast as I could.

Years ago, I was scouting a route for a pipeline in southwest Louisiana in a very remote swampy snaky area. I was going down a dirt road that kept getting worse and worse and came upon an area where there were a lot of shacks. The shacks looked like they had been relocated from somewhere else and just scattered randomly across a field. Some of them didn’t have doors or windows. It looked kind of abandoned. For some reason my pucker factor was pretty high. I came up on a group of about a dozen kids. They looked to be about three or four years old up to about 10. The thing was, none of them were wearing a stitch of clothing. They were totally naked, boys and girls both. They looked at me then started throwing dirt clods at the car. So I backed up quite a ways back to the main road.

I routed the pipeline clear around that area. I still wonder what the deal was.

Anyway, I don’t know why a guy in Oklahoma found a quirky history of a ghost town in Massachusetts so interesting except I am interested in the power and energy of places.

I give the book 2.5 stars out of 4. I liked it.

Stealing and Cheating

A recent article in the Tulsa World about oilfield theft brought back some memories.

I got a graduate degree in oilfield theft, I can tell you all about it. Back in a previous life (and previous employer) during the 1980’s to early 90’s I saw a lot of it. I didn’t participate I just had to deal with it. I got so that I could smell it a mile away.

I worked for a company headquartered in Dallas. They thought something was amiss in their West Texas Division headquartered in Midland, Texas. One evening I was told to be at the airport packed for a week. I showed up, we flew the corporate jet to Midland. A private investigator met us we went to the Region Office. Every single person in the Region Office was terminated. My boss and I drove to the field office a few hours away and announced we were taking over.

After a short time, we determined that every single person in the field office was on the take one way or another, about two dozen people. Further there were only about 2000 people in the whole county. If we fired these guys, who else could we hire to run the system. There wasn’t anybody else. What do you do? We sold the pipeline system.

A year later, we went through a similar thing in the Oklahoma City office. We didn’t fire everybody, just a few. We should have fired several more as we found out later. We paid the price, my family also. I had to work for several months with a guy who I knew was a crook while our PI did his investigation. It was one of the most trying things I’ve ever been through. Having to watch myself the whole time. I also worried about our safety. Big money was involved.

We ended up firing the guy, but not prosecuting him. Pissed me off then, and still makes me mad. Most energy companies sweep stuff like that under the rug. I still remember, like it was yesterday, the day I got permission to fire him. I thought he was going to jump across the desk at me. He told me that he didn’t do it, and then he wanted to know if he could pay reparations. Like, if you didn’t do it, why do you want to pay reparations.

The thing most vivid is that he asked if he could drive home and tell his wife and then come back and get his stuff. Uhh, he was a gun nut. “Nope, Frank (not his real name.) We are going to load your stuff up and take you home now.” (He had a company truck so he needed a lift home.)

On the way to his house he reminded me that his wife had recently been diagnosed with breast cancer. I told him I felt bad about that. (His wife was a very nice person.)

I left him standing on his driveway with all his stuff. He asked me to help him carry it in. “Nope, I have to go.” Not very helpful or friendly was I?

I could go on, but I won’t. I had to deal with several others elsewhere.

Do you think you work with a crook? I know all the indications. Want to know a few?

  • Guys who are overly helpful. They can take care of things that are not in their job scope. They know people who can help. Yep, there is a payoff lurking about.
  • Support staff and subordinates who are not friendly or communicative. They have been told to be quiet and not talk to outsiders. How is this silence bought? Through threats is how. The way it works is they come to work on day and their boss says “Hey, I have something for you.” It is something nice, a pair of ostrich cowboy boots (we are talking oilfield stuff here) lets say or a gift certificate, or something else. Later they get called in again. They get told, “You say something about what I am doing, you are going down with me.” “What” the subordinate says, “I am not involved.” “Oh yes you are.” they are told, “Remember those ostrich boots? Where do you think they come from?” Works like a charm. I feel sorry for these victims. The guilt and worry they feel can literally wreck their lives. Doing something like that to another person is one of the worst things you can do to somebody.
  • The advocacy of suppliers or contractors who are “really good” or the “the only ones” can provide the goods and services. These are the crooks. The condemnation of “sorry” providers. These are guys who won’t pay kickbacks.
  • Excuses and Lies. These guys are the kings of excuses and they lie a lot.
  • Problems elsewhere, gambling, drinking, adultery ,money. These guys have integrity issues.

What all this means is hidden, until you come to your senses, by a “veil of trust.” Once that falls away then it is very plain to see. It can be shocking to see somebody you trust be a crook.

Want to know something else that is shocking. Oftentimes companies are nicer to thieves than they are to honest employees. You should hear some of the crap I have heard over the years.

  • We don’t want him to sue us.
  • We don’t want this to get in the papers.
  • This looks really bad for us.

So, I say “Prosecute them,” “Sue them,” Get rid of them.

Anything else is an insult to your poor dumb honest employees.

My World – Oklahoma Road Trip

I had a four day weekend so we decided to take a little road trip from Tulsa.

First we headed off to Oklahoma City

On the way we took a small detour on old Route 66 so I could find a few geocaches. One place we looked was at this old gas station right on the road. The landowner left a little informative sign. Apparently their was a counterfeiting operation here during the depression. Also, not long ago somebody dumped a body. We didn’t see a body but somebody had dumped a kitten there. Very sad.
A little further on we stopped at “Pops.” A diner/gas station on route 66 near Arcadia. Built by an Oklahoma Oilman this place boasts over 400 kinds of soda pop. I believe it! We only had one each.

SuperPizzaBoy had a “Mexican” Coke, Sweetie a Grape Nehi.
I had some sort of Black Cherry Cream Soda. They were all great.

A little blast from the past, we went by the first house that Sweetie and I lived in when got married. Nearly 20 years ago.
Next, the Oklahoma City Museum of Art. It was great. They had a exhibition on “Turner to Cezanne” from the National Museum of Wales. Plus the museum is know of their Dale Chihuly glass exhibit. Breathakingly beautiful works of glass. Check out his web site here.

We spent the night in downtown Oklahoma City. We ate dinner and saw a movie in Bricktown. Lots of canals, restaurants, bars, and a movie theater.

Next day, we ate breakfast and headed down to Duncan, Oklahoma to see the Chisholm Trail Heritage Center.

This is a small museum but well worth seeing. They have an interactive, hands on area, great for kids, and a regular museum with some great works. The star of the show is a multimedia presentation about a cattle drive. It is multi D. So when it rains you get sprinkled, you also smell the bacon and coffee on the campfire. When the longhorn’s stampede you feel it in your seat.

Next, it was back north to Norman to the University of Oklahoma. They are working hard in Norman to make a university for which the football team can be proud. The University is home to the Fred Jones Museum of Art. The basis of the art collection is the Weitzenhoffer collection the university received several years back. Works by Degas, Gauguin, Monet, Pissarro, Renoir, Toulouse-Lautrec, Van Gogh, among others are in the collection. They also had an exhibition of the Rennard Strickland Collection of Native American Art.

We really liked it but our eyes were getting a little glassy from what SuperPizzaBoy called our “Museumathon.” So we loaded up, drove to Oklahoma City to Johnnies for hamburgers and great ice tea and then booked it home.

Check out That’s My World for great photos of our world.

Petty’s Fine Foods – Utica Square,


I found myself at Utica Square in Tulsa the other day at lunch while running an errand. I needed a bite to eat but the little deli I usually go to was closed. I was by myself and just wanted a sandwich, not go to a sit down place.

I wandered into Petty’s Fine Foods, a small locally owned Grocery Store. They made me a sandwich at the deli counter. They did a great job, roast beef, bacon, lettuce, tomato, onions, mustard on wheat. They wrapped it all up for me in butcher paper, I grabbed a pear in the produce department, a small bag of chips, and a soda. Paid for it and ate it at one of their tables out front.

Anybody remember when you could go to any grocery store to the meat counter and they would make you a sandwich? A good sandwich. In a previous life when I was a real engineer who actually built stuff out in the gas fields of the Oklahoma, Texas, Louisiana, and Mississippi. If I was out roaming around the country checking my projects and got hungry I would often go to almost any small family owned grocery store in a small town and get my lunch (or dinner as they call lunch in Texas; they call dinner supper.)

Of course I didn’t have to pump my own gas either. If I wanted to check in with the office (remember offices?) I had to find a pay phone (remember pay phones?) And I talked to my secretary instead of voice mail (boy do I loathe voice mail!)

That was in a different era when small towns actually had a retail economy. I had forgotten all about it. But hey, things aren’t all bad, thanks to Al Gore inventing the internet for us we get to read each others blogs and Facebook updates.

All I know is, I know where I’m eating lunch next time I’m running an errand at Utica Square.