Weddings are us

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There comes a time in every man’s life when he finds himself having to attend the wedding of a close friend or relative.

Such times are looked upon with fear and trepidation as he knows he must endure stifling hot temperatures stuffed in a too small suit long abandoned to the back of the closet. His girlfriend or wife, meanwhile, breaks the bank getting a new dress, shoes and jewelry so she can look good for all the people in attendance.

Attending the wedding is called, “doing what’s right,” to the uninitiated. It also involves giving up a Saturday of hunting and fishing or watching the ballgame.

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Internet riches

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The Internet is a wonderful and amazing place. It is filled with unbelievable amounts of information, both good and bad.

It takes me to the farthest parts of the earth with photo tours; shows me current satellite images of places I have been through Google Earth; connects me with friends both far and near; builds businesses; and, even lets me talk to my two-year-old granddaughter through FaceTime.

I found the Internet quite some time before Al Gore invented it so I am wondering about that statement.

But regardless, it has been a wonderful tool to peruse the vast amounts of data available on the information highway. One must be careful, though, when using the Internet as that highway often has some bad detours to misinformation especially on sites promising quick money, a Russian bride or flat abs. These often lead to being connected to nut jobs and whackos wanting my attention—and money.

So like anything these days, let the buyer beware. And make sure you have a large efficient Spam folder imbedded in your email account.

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What's in a name?

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At a very young age I recall thinking that my parents somehow had it in for me by choosing the name “Kevin.”

 

While you may think this is somewhat of a normal name, it just didn't have the same ring to it as other people with the truly NEAT names. You know ones like Pugs, Clint, Cody, Jesse and other names with a certain historical reference or Hollywood coolness about them.

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RVers hit the road

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It’s that time of year again when the RV'ers can be seen winding their way out of the valley back toward homes or other destinations all over this big country. This yearly exodus is usually complete by October, with some getting a jump on it leaving first of August. 

The early departures are due to grandkids starting school and anxious grandmothers light a fire under "old George,” and get him packed up and on the road so they don't miss the first piano recital or football game for little Johnny or Susie.

They load up their belongings into the modern day Conestoga wagon and before you know it, the highways become a complicated morass of elderly people heading east.  A shopping trip to Alamosa indicates that east is where most of them are going. Highway 160 morphs into an obstacle course as we must dodge camper drivers who believe their half of the road is best taken out of the middle of the highway.

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Hunting widows reach record numbers

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There is a high mortality rate among men nationwide this time of year. It begins late in the summer and gains in momentum as fall approaches.

 

This disease causes more widows faster than any other known ailment and I am surprised that medical science has not tried to solve the problem or that government has not spent untold millions studying it.

It’s the time of year when many women become widows to the hunting disease. There are warning signs along the way such as the outdoor magazines piling up next to their partner's chair. The disease carrier can be seen perusing the dogged-ear pages over and over again like some new convert in a goofball cult studying doctrinal teachings.

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Match.com and other firestarters

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They say “never say never” and I have to tell you, turns out they were right. Having been thrust into the world of singlehood after 35 years of marriage, I found out just how hard it is to meet someone to date.

First, I was in the "come to dinner at our house" trap whereby well-meaning couples have dinner and bring their mother, sister, cousin, daughter, niece, ex-wife, sister-in-law, friend or any other eligible single woman. I still believe it wasn't so much that they thought I was a good fit for their pick as much as they needed to unload them on me. Those dinners were always uncomfortable and I learned to ask early on how many people will be at dinner. And that quickly opened up my social calendar.

Discouraged with that approach, I, like millions of other singles, entered the world of online dating. With a simple click of the mouse, thousands of eligible ladies across the nation and even the entire world invaded my inbox.

Before I get to the nitty and gritty details, I must say there was great excitement every day as I awaited kisses, winks, waves and a whole menagerie of other online affections from single women who had seen my profile.

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A river runs through it

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The movie A River Runs Through It is filled with stunning, pristine mountain streams and forest glades which server as the backdrop for great fishing scenes. Although the story ends in tragedy, the sweeping panoramic vistas touch something deep inside all of us who love and cherish the mountains.

The San Luis Valley is defined in many ways by the great river, the Rio Grande. It has shaped not only the mountainous areas surrounding us but also the wide fertile valley stretching out below, a compilation of countless eons of rain and snowfall runoff. Destructive in its raging floods; life giving in its supply to area farms; the river lives on through abundance and drought.  

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St. Louis is always east

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In today’s world of instant information, it’s hard to imagine the days when explorers came west with just a horse and a gun. Somehow they were able to traverse great distances without getting lost.

I recall a story about a mountain man being asked by a greenhorn if he had ever been lost. The grizzled old mountain man replied, "I was never lost but was temporarily disoriented for three weeks." That in and of itself would scare the pee jabbers out of most of us, but a three week wandering was a mere inconvenience to him. The mountain man went on to say, "I was never lost as I knew St. Louis was east of me."

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