We have been trying to take some road trips just for a change of scenery from “Stay At Home” guidelines. Last week turned into a challenge when we took both pups with us and tried a five hour day. (We had forgotten when we did the cross-country drive on our move last year that Jake was tranquilized for the three days in the car.) Jake, our Boxer who turns three next month, is still finishing up his puppy stage and so hyper. Once he discovered it wasn’t a drive to the vet, he calmed down while our three and a half old Boxer Katie got a concerned look on her face. I’m sure she was thinking, “Last time we took this long a ride, we didn’t come back home!”
So today we decided to start with a mini-trip with just Jake through the neighborhood. He actually was doing pretty good. He abandoned window-cleaning after one firm, “Leave it.” Then there was a someone walking their dog. “No bark!” quietened warm-up yaps — that is until the dog decided to go potty! Then both Jake and my husband chimed in their irritation since they were both sure the dog didn’t live at that yard. A “That’s enough!” by me quieted both. “Since Jake is doing so good, let’s go to the front of the subdivision, “I suggested. And that is where it all began!
As we made the turn to the densely wooded area near the front, there was a car parked off to the side with two teenagers unloading a stroller. We drove to the top of the hill where the entrance is and turned around. As we passed the car, Jake’s cowlick bristled which is an indication he is uncomfortable with something. The car was still sitting there with a woman inside as well as a child looking as hyper as Jake. This is where my Nancy Drew intuition kicked in — after all, I read every book starting with The Secret of the Old Clock to The Clue in the Old Stagecoach. She was my heroine — an amateur sleuth who always put her skills into use when something appeared amiss. Or maybe it was my one year as Neighborhood Watch Captain or the experience at our last subdivision where a group would let their kids out at the front of the complex to case homes. Jake was bristling and I needed answers!
When we got home, I got the keys to my car. “Where are you going?” Rick asked. “I’ll be right back. I’m not leaving the subdivision. If I’m not home in an hour, come look for my body!” Rick’s mouth was agape as I took off in my blue roadster …. um…. gold sedan. I passed the two teens enroute. We exchanged stares as I passed. Further down the road, the car was still there and with another car behind her! It was a red convertible with a man and a little boy. I went to the top of the hill again and turned around. This time I snapped a shot of both cars. May as well have something on my phone records when they investigate my disappearance. It would been at that point the back ground music on my soaps would have done “da da!” On the way back to my house, I got ready to pass the girls who were still proceeding down the road pushing the stroller. I stopped and put down the window. “Hi! Are you new to the neighborhood?” They looked at each other. “What street do you live on?” “We live down the road.” I must have given them the eyebrow my mom used to give me. “Regulator,” one finally offered after they shared uncomfortable glances. Suddenly I realized maybe they were just being safe and trying not to talk to strangers. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. It’s a nice day for a walk.”
Rick was relieved to see me back at the house. I told him what transpired. “I think I’ll swing down to Regulator,” he offered. He must have read the Hardy Boys. His findings? The girls went into a house. A little later I headed out for my daily two mile walk. With all the things in bloom, I found my self stopping and admiring the properties making mental notes for Rick’s “Honey Want List.” Suddenly I heard a, “Hi! Are you new to the neighborhood?” I laughed to myself. Another Nancy Drew.
Who would have ever guessed four months ago what 2020 would bring — a whole new way of existing in life.
Life without a hairdresser — It starts with my bangs. How spoiled I’ve gotten depending on my hairdresser for those trims once a month! Well, it wasn’t by choice — I did attempt a couple of bang trims back in the 80s — my hairdresser at the time issuing me an order – “NEVER try this again!” OK. She had her reasons.
My first attempt was a tad on the short end. In my defense, maybe I was going for that Mamie Eisenhower look! OK. I wasn’t, but if I had been, my mother would have given me an A-. Mom used to love my bangs short and I didn’t have a whole lot of control over what she did with them! There were the years they were short and then those years she permed them! What was she thinking?
The second attempt wasn’t my fault. My hairdresser Luis, who I had found at Memorial City mall, was discovered by someone in California. Last I heard he was getting top dollar doing celebrities. So in the interim while trying to find Luis’s replacement, I attempted to try another bang trim.
Bang Trim #2 was before you could go to You Tube or DIY for guidance. I knew that my bangs had a slope up to the middle from both sides. So I started from the far right diagonaling towards the center. It looked great except my estimated center and what the final look showed, was way off! It was then I retired my scissors until last week!
I was finally to the point that my bangs were bothersome getting in my eyes. I’ve gained an appreciation for how a poor sheepdog sees! So with great care, working very slowly, I started the scissors cutting upwards following the existing edges barely snipping. It took me almost twenty minutes for what Rebecca normally does in two minutes. No worries Rebeeca — when things get back to normal, you will have your day job back!
This column runs in the Spring 2020 issue of Heart Beat of the Texas Hill Country
As I am writing this column, qualifying for the pole at the Daytona 500 is being televised. So many changes this year; drivers switching teams, younger drivers coming in from other NASCAR tiers and legends racing for their final year. One of my favorites is hanging up his helmet – Brendan Gaughan.
I first “unofficially” met Brendan at a Texas Motor Speedway press conference back in Summer of 2013 when he was racing in the Camping World Truck Series. He was alongside fellow racer twenty-two-year-old Joey Coulter who was fifteen years younger so he kidded about himself being “old” in racing. I raised my hand. “What do you consider old?” I asked. Without skipping a beat, he responded, “Me!” I decided at that moment I had found the truck driver to root for!
Later that year NASCAR came back for the fall races. It was a sunny fall day when I hiked to the parking lot where the truck haulers were lined up providing an outside work area since the Cup and Nationwide cars had the two garages. There was the #62 South Point Hotel and Casino truck; over the driver’s door, the signature Brendan Gaughan. I craned my neck trying to see in the open hood without touching the truck. “Looking for anything in particular?” a familiar voice asked. I turned and it was Brendan. “uhhh… is this where the carburetor is?” I followed it with a laugh and explained that I knew nothing about what’s under a hood!
That night I got to hang at pit row thanks to my media pass. Brendan was doing last minute checks on his truck, then gave his wife Tatum a kiss and she headed to the pit stand pushing one of his sons in a stroller. He looked across and waved hi to me looking quite different in his racing uniform. “Good luck tonight!” I shouted. He finished 4th in the race.
The following spring, I contacted Brendan’s media person to request an interview with him. As a freelancer, I was appreciative of those who were willing to talk to me and there were many who would not grant one-on-one interviews. I explained to her the carburetor story. She said she would check with Brendan and get back to me. Several weeks later, I met Brendan at Fuzzy’s in the TMS Pit. He was now racing a car instead of a truck. I started off assuring him that I wouldn’t ask the typical girl question about how they used the bathroom while racing. Instead I pulled out my University of Houston “Phi Slama Jama” Tee-shirt. My Cougars had lost to the Georgetown Hoyas in the NCAA finals in 1984. Brendan played basketball for Georgetown in the 90s. Yes, I had done my homework. He burst out laughing. “Yes, we slama’d your jama!” he confirmed.
We talked about so many other things in addition his racing – his family, being a high school football All-American and a placekicker at Georgetown, scuba diving, skiing at his second home in Colorado, our common love of “The Doors” music and his future employment, helping run the family casino in Las Vegas. I asked Brendan what was on his bucket list. With a smile perfect for a toothpaste commercial, he responded, “Life is….”
Each season he raced at TMS, we’d exchange “high 5’s” or a hug. He went through many looks – mustache, beard and even a hint of sideburns like his early racing years. One time when Brendan was doing an appearance at the midway, a fan asked him if he participated in Fantasy Racing. Gaughan bragged about his fantasy team and how many fans were with him on Twitter getting advice each week. He pointed to me in the audience. “Just ask Carlotta! She’s on my team!” Yes! I not only had me a driver; he knew me by name!
This column runs in the Winter 2019/2020 issue of Heart Beat of the Texas Hill Country
My high school reunions have always been fun, but my favorite of all time was in 2003. It was an All-School Reunion where former players of our Spring Branch (Houston) football team faced alumni from rival Memorial in tag football. The game was played at Darrell Tully Stadium off of I10 and Diary Ashford Rd. (I remember when they built it in 1965. It was in the middle of nowhere and we thought the planners had lost their minds!)
Spring Branch High School had closed in 1985 so the players as well as the Bruin Brigade drill team, cheerleaders and band participants were anywhere from their early sixties to mid-thirties. Former Texas Longhorns All-American Chris Gilbert was there doing the coin toss. As luck would have it, I watched from afar in the Victory Line for our Bears players to run through. Chris was still as good-looking as he was when he was voted in as Most Popular in 1965.
Our cheerleaders lead the stands in chants as the band played the fight song. The drill team thrilled everyone with their high-kicks and dance routines in a half-time show. I twirled a baton and threw a few aerials into the bright stadium lights. I was overjoyed! No drops! The months of practice in my living room and later the backyard (where I was sent after putting a soft dent in our living room archway) had paid off! It was a fun evening with nobody getting hurt, but a lot of groaning especially when Memorial won. The MVP was former Longhorn Brad Dawson from Memorial. Also playing was Brad’s younger brother Doug who was a guard for the Houston Oilers in the 90s.
The next night we had a casino event at one of the hotels. Chris Gilbert was there as a dealer. I must have stood an hour waiting for someone to leave his table! The former football star was the perfect dealer. He would peek at the next card. “Nah… I think you might want to let me keep this one” and then would wink. Between hands, I questioned him about his years after Spring Branch where he shattered school records. “Rumor has it that the reason you went to Texas is because our Coach Tully’s wife Edith was good friends with Edith Royal, wife of the Longhorns head coach.” He grinned with a smile made for toothpaste commercials. He neither confirmed nor denied.
I tried not to stare at him as I thought; here he is – he led our high school to three state playoffs, first Longhorn to record three consecutive 1,000-yard rushing seasons, former All-Southwest Conference three times and All-American! It was because of Chris Gilbert that my favorite item of clothing in the late 60s was a Texas Longhorns sweatshirt. As predicted, he got the attention of the NFL and was drafted in 1969 by the New York Jets. “You turned down playing with Joe Namath!” I blurted out. He smiled and then said, “I think you might want this next card.” I swiped my fingers across the green felt. Twenty-one!
The Tampa Bay Rays shocked the baseball experts as well as a sold out Oakland-Alameda County Coliseum and beat the As 5 – 1.
It should have been of no surprise to the As. They are snake-bit in the playoffs with an 0 – 6 record in winner-take-all playoff games at home since 2000!
Lord have mercy! They had their chances!! Rays starter Charlie Morton loaded the bases in the first inning!
35 years/11 months old Morton remained collected and got out of the jam. Charlie was on my fantasy baseball roster this season — he is what got me to the finals this year — last night was so-not-Charlie! He allowed eight runners to reach base in five innings (actually nine if you count the one reaching by an erratic throw from third to first)! He may be considered an oldster to the youthful bats, but this isn’t his first rodeo either. It’s his fourth time to the post-season – 2013 with the Pirates and the Astros in 2017 and 2018.
A franchise-record 257 homers launched from Oakland bats this season was non-existent in last night’s game. Eight singles was all they could muster.
The Rays only had seven hits, but four of those rockets — two back-to-back by Yandy Diaz — fresh off the DL. Some blame it on the decision of As Manager Bob Melvin choosing Sean Manaea for the start. He had a fresh arm for sure — he had just resumed pitching recently after being off for shoulder surgery. And in fairness to the decision, he was 4 – 0 in September with a 1.21 ERA. But there sat fifteen-game winner Mike Fiers, who pitched a no-hitter May 7 and was12-0 since then! Oakland fans have to be scratching their heads!
Here come the Rays — next stop Houston! ‘Stros beware — Tampa Bay may have the lowest payroll in Major League Baseball, but there’s a wealth of talent just waiting to become the next Cinderella in playoff history!
So much irony in last night’s Milwaukee Brewers 4 – 3 loss to the Washington Nationals!
An eighth inning error by rookie Trent Grisham — a ball that rolled under the glove of the right fielder — scoring what would be the game winner.
Grisham was playing right field replacing MVP candidate Christian Yelich –out on season ending injury after fracturing his right kneecap on Sept. 10.
Grisham was Milwaukee Brewers Minor League Player of the Year.
Grisham was 1st batter in the game and scored the 1st run.
The press mobbed the rookie afterwards – flashes going off and microphones jammed in his face. Seriously? Give the kid a break. If it hadn’t been for a sloppy performance by Josh Hader — All-Star lefty who saved 37 games this year – Brewers would have been on a flight to Los Angeles!
Hader loaded the bases with two outs —allowing a broken-bat bloop single —hitting one batter with a pitch (a strange HBP — getting both batter’s hand and the bat — Brewers challenged — wasn’t “clear and convincing evidence to overturn the call.”), and a walk. A 96 mph fastball and that’s all she wrote…
Brewers had their chance in the top of the 9th. Daniel Hudson on the mound for the Nats. Hudson who wouldn’t have been there had it not been for a phone call at the trade deadline.
A soap opera writer couldn’t have scripted it any better.
This column runs in the Fall 2019 issue of Heart Beat of the Texas Hill Country
The Boys of Summer was more than a Don Henley hit – for me, it was my Summer of 2019. We had just made a major move from Texas to the Raleigh, North Carolina area accomplished in a quick two months. I yearned for a real vacation away from the lingering boxes. While perusing an email from Tanglewood, the Western Massachusetts summer home for the Boston Pops, I discovered Josh Groban was going to be there in concert July 2nd. It would be an easy day and a half drive from our new abode. I didn’t have to twist hubby’s arm; it’s his favorite singer.
The concert was awesome. Josh bantered with the audience between sets and the two hours flew by. Next was finding a small town to view 4th of July festivities. I hit the jackpot – a parade in my hometown – Williamstown — and fireworks after a New England Collegiate Baseball League game in North Adams, the next town over. I had actually marched in the Williamstown parade back in the late 50s! Things sure had changed. No baton twirler like me, but many more participants including the baseball team playing that night and instead of just at the elementary school, it was a sixteen minute walk to Spring Street.
After the parade, we looked for a place to eat late lunch which was not easy on a holiday. After trying several places with indefinite waits in Williamstown, we drove to North Adams and discovered the Trail House. While waiting on my burger, I gazed out the window to the people eating in the outdoor seating. Just like a magnet, I zoomed-in to a party of three. One was wearing a Vermont Mountaineers T-shirt. Our waitress confirmed the wishes racing through my mind – the baseball teams, frequented the restaurant. “I’ll be right back.” “You’re not….” my husband interjected. I was already on the patio! It turned out that it was the parents of the starting pitcher for Vermont that night and his twin brother Matt. I learned that Ryan Murphy was a top prospect and playing in the New England Collegiate Baseball League for the summer. Unfortunately, their food came right as I learned Ryan had broken Matt’s nose while throwing. Bad timing by the kitchen!
We got to the ballpark right as the Vermont Mountaineers’ bus was unloading. I wondered how many of these kids I would see in the big leagues in a few years. According to Ryan’s dad, his son would be. Once inside, I headed to the 1st base side where the North Adams Steeplecats were warming up and stretching. The great thing about the collegiate league is that pre-game, the players chat with the fans. It was there I met Alex Gomes. I knew immediately by his right arm, he was a pitcher. He was impressed. I laughed and said, “Catcher was out – you’re too tall.” I bragged to him that I knew Bobby Witt, retired Texas Rangers “rightie” and that his son Bobby, Jr. had just been drafted 2nd in the MLB draft. Alex said, “Oh! You need to meet our Mason Ronan! He was drafted by the Red Sox last year but he’s staying at Pitt to honor his commitment there. Mason! I’ve got someone I want you to meet!” The next thing I know I’m shaking hands with the leftie and Alex is positioning us for a picture together!
The game started as Ryan’s dad predicted. Ryan shut down the Steeplecats holding them to two runs (only one of them earned) and struck out five in five innings. Once he left the game with a 4 – 2 lead, North Adams began their comeback. The relievers held the Vermont team scoreless while the offense chipped away inning by inning. Our excitement wasn’t just the comeback; it was when four of the players came up in the stands and Alex was one of them. They were selling chances at fifty cents each and the number drawn would split the winnings with the team. Alex smiled as Rick dug out his bills and pulled out a ten. “Good luck, Sir” and winked at me. It was fun watching the players interact with the fans. After North Adams won 5 – 4, the team came into the stands and shared high 5’s with fans! It was an incredible night and the baseball that we knew back in to the 60s before money and celebrity took over. Long live the Collegiate Baseball Leagues!! Yes, it was a summer to remember – Ryan, Alex, Mason, and the other Boys of Summer!