Thursday & Friday

THURSDAY

With my mother finally done with 6 months of Chemo and things looking up I felt it was ok to return to Houston from Denver and get on with my own thing for a while. It’s hot out. 100F/38C. The heat does little to motivate my current case of work burnout and I’m tired of driving all over the place. My effectiveness at chasing the golden carrot at the end of the stick is hampered by a desire to chase something else. I cut today’s search and buy session short. Two estate sales, one with loads of records, yielded nothing much. Of course I missed the best sale that opened at noon as my competition wondered where the heck I was. Never mind me. I was trotting around the neighborhood boiling my brain in the glaring heat searching for common sense and a little inspiration while running 4 miles. Somehow I thought it was the more constructive thing to do.

Old patterns, habits, and routines can be hard to break when they seem to work Ok with a nice upside. However, one never really knows what a nice new suit and fresh persona is like until one gets up and trades in their old bag of tricks for a new improved set of tools. Suspending that in which one thinks they are can open up a plethora of exciting possibilities. Is the best one can do found in roaming amidst Desert Mountains with a mule named Mud in search of the elusive big nugget of joy? Or, is it in the awakening of a new direction with an enhanced perspective of, “This is what I do”, “That is what I did”, and “Experience has made me who I am”. The question is whether or not to hold on to what I know or to let go for what can be known. Regardless, I’ve got it pretty darned good in life.

The Grand Canyon is a vast and beautiful place. But it’s also rut. I’ve been to the bottom a couple of times and camped a few days on both occasions. The river runs by as you stare at the canyon walls but it’s hard to see much. After a few days at the bottom you either hike up, take a mule out, or you ride the river with its strong currents and big ass rapids. I’ve always hiked. Always.

FRIDAY

It’s still Hot Hot Hot. 100F/38C. In Houston this could continue until September sometime.

Today I was very successfully inefficient. I circumnavigated the city on the inner loop known as the 610. Very few rewards were met but I’ll make enough money to pay for gas and a sandwich. What we put our time into has an enormous effect on who we are. Our thoughts, actions, attitudes, and beliefs sculpt our human experience and direct our path along the avenue of life.

Setting unreasonably low expectations and dabbling in the realm of victim mentality is extremely limiting. A helping hand is a good thing but an expected handout is disempowering.

Big Fish

A week ago I once again made the 16 ½ hour straight thru drive between Denver and Houston. I know the drive so well that I literally think I could do it in my sleep if I haven’t already. A couple of days after arriving back in the Bayou City my nephew Max flew down for a couple of nights before hopping a bus for a 3 week stint at a Texas hill country lakeside summer camp.

With a whole day to kick around I took Max on nice tour along the Gulf of Mexico. The route follows highway 288 to Surfside then the Blue Water Highway up along the coast across San Luis Pass to Galveston Island with a return via Interstate 45. It makes a nice loop and a very pleasant day. There’s nothing exotic about the drive but it’s a nice diversion from Houston.

Just before you cross over a bridge to the long flat barrier island and stilted beach community of Surfside there’s a pull off to the right. A short dusty road leads to an open parking lot with a boat dock and weathered looking bait shop building. Harley riders call it the bait camp as it’s a popular place with the biker crowd. The front side of the building doesn’t look particularly hospitable which does a good job of keeping out a respectable crowd.

The building houses a nice little store with Ice cold drinks and a good sized live bait business which flows out to a nice deck/dock with a friendly bar and very relaxed atmosphere. Boats come and go while good music plays. Often in the afternoon during weekends people fry up fresh fish and shrimp donated by various fishermen that’s served up for free to anyone and everyone but it’s good style to leave a tip in the jar. One day I stopped there and had some of the best fried shrimp I’ve ever had.

As I was introducing Max to the bait camp a guy asked if Max would like to fish of the dock. He had an extra pole and we had time so Max took him up on the offer. The guy told us it was a good place to catch small fish for fun. Max caught a small fish and I took a photo. He continued to fish and I talked with the easy going regular Joe kind of guy who I found out owned a company with 1,000 employees that looks after oil refinery safety etc. You would never know by looking at him but he was obviously very well off. He was enjoying the day with his two sons who appeared to be around 10 and 12.

I figured Max hooked something pretty big with the pole bent all the way over as he leaned the opposite direction to maintain his balance with a perplexed look on his face. Max wasn’t sure what to do and looked to our host for help, however, we both wanted Max to earn his catch. The fish was putting up a fight as a boat moved to get out of the way while the fish danced around an outbaord motor. By this time a small crowd was gathering and Max was getting a workout. Slowly he reeled it in and I was hoping the light weight reel, pole, and line would hold. The fish surfaced and we could see it was a big one. A fisherman donated his net and someone scooped it up. The man running the live bait area told us to take a couple of pictures and get it back in the water. It was above the legal limit.

The fish known as a Drum weighed approximately 30 pounds and was obviously longer than the acceptable size range. There was a lot of excitement and congratulations for Max. He seemed a little surprised and bewildered by his stroke of good luck as he has practically no fishing experience.