Bowling w/Paps

 

Recently (I can't remember the exact date), I treated this gang of 4 to an afternoon with Pappy (or Paps) as Ava is fond of saying.  We started the day at Panda Express for lunch, which, I do not think an ounce of food was left on their plates ~ they each love the fast Chinese.

 

We then went bowling.  The top picture shows them all waiting their turn.  WP on the edge of the chair with his leg crossed in the business man's leg cross.  Just exactly like I do; he is so precious.  I got so used to doing it when wearing a suit, that now it is the only way I ever cross my legs.

 

Ava was my little organizer.  She kept things 'rolling', and made sure that each one of us stayed in the proper bowling order.  She did a great job of it.  And you can see my little Spaz right there dressed in her imitation of Nini.  Exactly the same kind of sweaters than Nini wears year round.  Emma was so sweet on me that day; even with the sweater she was cold, but I was her heater.  She would roll her turn, then snuggle up in my lap for more warmth.  I loved it.

 

The scores:  Ava #1 both games; barely.  Caveman #2 both games.  WP #3, and Spaz #4.  Though we had gutter guards up, cave man did not hit the gutter guards one time, and was the one the most determined NOT to need Pappy's help.  Spaz though had the slowest ball.  It clocked in at a blistering 1.2 mph, and stopped on the alley once before hitting the pins.  I didn't know that was possible, but we had to have an attendant walk down the alley to retrieve her stopped ball.  After that episode, we each took turns coaching her to throw it between her legs as hard as possible; which I think boosted her speed to 1.8 mph on the foul line radar gun, but it was enough to make it to the pins . . .

 

The afternoon ended with them each inhaling multiple donuts and drinks at QT.  A perfect ending to a day with Paps.

 

I am so blessed.

Romeo @ Bass Pro

 

A few weeks ago, my little man got to spend the afternoon with me, and we didn't actually accomplish much, but to Owen, the day was perfect.  He got to spend it at Bass Pro for many-many hours.  This little man loves Bass Pro.  Every boat, lure, gun, fish, and four wheeler; he wants to touch, see, taste, and experience.  He was such an awesome boy for me that day.  We spent an hour plus just on the Arctic Cats; and wow, does he ever have the sounds down.  Amazing, like he was breed with them.

 

And yes, he was chasing skirts.  As usual . . .

 

And yes, I was constantly asked how old he was, and yes, every one's jaws dropped when I told them he was only 3; just a tall, and extremely intelligent 3 year old.  As you would agree too if you ever engaged him in a conversation.  His language skills will astonish you.

 

I love you Owen Michael, and looking forward to our next trip to BP.  Can we skip the pretty little blond 18 year old girls though that look like your Mom; as I'm really getting weary of watching you hone your Romeo skills.  It makes me jealous that it comes so natural to you, as I was 17 before I would even look at a girl, much less talk to them . . .

 

Oh well; you're da man, da cave man that is . . .

Father's Day

 

 

I am a blessed and happy man.  On Father's Day yesterday, my Mom & Dad were able to drive down, and this pic is Dad in the kitchen with me after I'd brought in the ribs from the smoker.  Dad devours my ribs, and yesterday was no exception.  He was the official taste tester, and deemed them worthy of consumption; and consumed they were (all 3 slabs) by all in attendance.

 

The other pic is of my baby girl Angela, a mere 32, and quite the stunner.  Both of my daughters are gorgeous, taking after their mom's breathtakingly beautiful good looks.  My older daughter Jackie was here too, but she escaped pictures.  As did the grandsons, and the granddaughters, and my Mom, and my wife, and my sons in laws.  Between fireworks (Pappy's treat), the US Open golf, the swimming, the sudden monsoon that dumped 2" of rain in an hour; it was a festive and busy Father's Day, and I cherished every bit of it.  

 

And I love it when I clean up on gifts too :-).  Pam treated me to artery clogging Chicken Fried Steak with a side of Barnes&Noble gift card the night before.  Thank you very much.  Angela & company will be sending me to several Cinemark movies courtesy of my favorite movie gift card.  Another Thank you very much.  And Jackie & company made sure that my iTunes account stays fully replenished with her gift card to me.  And one more Thank you very much.

 

I love my family, our love, our unity, that we all live close enough to each other; and that they wanted to spend the day with me and Nini.  It is after all Nini's house; I have absolutely nothing to do with it.

 

It was a Happy Father's Day for me.

 

 

 

Happy Birthday Emma Jo!

This is my precious little Spaz.  My almost 5 year old Emma Jo.  We celebrated with a party last night a little sooner than her actual birthday due to family summer vacation trips.  Oh how much I love how this little girl gives me hugs!  She absolutely wins my award every year for best hug.  She puts her whole body into it.  And while her sweet little kisses are great too, it is her hugs that tug at me the most.  I remember hugging her Momma (and Aunt Jackie too) just like this for 100's, 1000's of times.  It never gets old.  It is never a regret.  It is a special treat, a bond, a love, and a show of affection that I will cherish all my life.  And one day, in not too many distant decades, I will continue the tradition by hugging Emma's kids the same way! You can bet on it. 

 

She received so many cute girlie gifts last night, and I do mean girlie.  There is not an ounce of doubt about my future beauty queens play thing leanings when it comes to all things girl.  Barbies and purses owned her attention last night. 

 

I love you Emma Jo.  Happy 5th Birthday!  - Pappy

 

 

Bowling: Mr. 300 Steven Kueny - This One Is For You

This will be my last bowling blog unless I roll a 300 or a 700 series (neither of which I have ever done!), as I know most of you are bored to tears with bowling.

But, I have to give credit where credit is due.  Remember the 72 year old man I wrote about last week with the 238 average.  Well, I was wrong.  He actually had a 735 series for a 245 average!  Wow.

Today, we bowled next to him...

He opened with a 248.

He followed it with a 279.  One of the fellow geezers was whispering under their breath that they hoped he rolled a 300, as he had been stuck on 99 300's for some time, and he thought it would be neat to see his 100th 300 game.  Can you imagine?  99 300 games.  Amazing.

He finished with a mortal 193, for an average this week of 240.  2 weeks, average 242.5 (rounded up to 243).  Yeah, this guy knows how to roll . . .

~

So, how did I do in week 2 after a 34 year hiatus?  Well, my highlight was one game with 7 strikes in a row, a 3 game series of 561 (avg. of 187) which raised my 2 week season average to a respectable 175.  I'm happy.  180 is still my goal, but it's fun, and I'm having something to do on Thursday afternoons other than work!

I've heard all about muscle memory, and it still works.  Hit the right arrow mark, and most of the time a strike will happen.

It's those dastardly splits that have always eaten my lunch if you come in a little high, and they did again today . . .

Bowling Nostalgia

I grew up bowling.  Literally, as far as my memory goes, I remember either being with my Dad bowling at Phillips or Red Apple, or a tourney in KC, Wichita, Springfield, etc., or bowling in one of a variety of leagues myself.  I remember bowling as a teen, working the Phillips 66 tournaments as an official 'scorekeeper', a lost art now replaced by computer scoring.  I remember earning trophies and patches out the wazoo; plus having all of the accoutrement's required for the sport, which included various balls for the lane conditions, gloves, shoes, chalk, etc.  I loved it.

In July of '77 I got married to Pam.  Not long thereafter she became pregnant with Jackie.  We joined a fall bowling league, and our team name was "The French Connection" because the other couple we bowled with also had a French name.  Pam was miserable bowling, not that she was bad; just that the waddle to the foul line as a 7,8,9 month preggo was quite uncomfortable, and not enjoyable.  Jackie was birthed in April of '79, and our season ended a few weeks after that.  So did my bowling 'career'.

I was decent, carrying an average in the 190's for most of my older bowling life (please remember, I was only 22 in '79, so I'd not yet had a very long life), never did have a 200 season average, and never did have a 300 game, but somewhere in the 190's is not a bad game.  My Dad though was always very good, carrying right at a 200 average for most of his bowling life.

Then, something happened.  After Jackie was born, I pretty much walked away from bowling.  I had grown tired of the smoke and beer smells, mainly the smoke.  Over the last 34 years, I know it is not a stretch to say that I probably have not bowled 12 games total, maybe not 9 or 10 games; it could easily be in the single digits.

Until yesterday.

As part of my take back my life campaign, I joined a Super Seniors league in Broken Arrow bowling on Thursday afternoons.  Don't laugh just yet.  Bowling Seniors start at 50, and while I am still a spry 55; the average age was definitely around 70.  The place was full, with 18 teams of Seniors bowling in this league.  There are so many Seniors in south BA that they had to have two leagues.  The other senior league is on Tuesday afternoons, and it too has 18 teams.

I knew I was destined to walk into the land of 'denim on denim', but to my amazement, there was not a single bowler yesterday dressed in that garb.  Not one.  Still surprising.

So, how did I do on my first day back after a 34 year hiatus?  Well, I did 'okay'.  I did not embarrass myself.  I had an average score of 165.  Well below what I used to bowl.  I had secretly hoped to have an average of at least 125, so I was pleased with the average of 165.  Not being too boastful, but I think I can make it to 180 by the end of this 3 month season.  Yesterday was the first time I had used the ball in this picture, and I need to get used to it.  See, this ball is my Dad's ball.  By today's ball standards, it is a relic.  An antique.  It does nothing fancy.  But, it's still got plenty of strikes left in it, and if I can make it to a 180 average with a 45 year old ball, after a 34 year layoff, then I'll be happy.

My 165 average was the best on my team, and on the team we played; but I really never thought that an average like that would be considered at such a high level of play.  5 lanes down from me was a 72 year old man, who 'rolled in' with 4 bowling balls.  He started each game with 5 strikes in a row, had a high score of 269, and rolled a 713 series for a 238 average.  He bowls in 5 leagues a week.  One of the geezers I was bowling next to said that this man usually shoots about 210 in most leagues. 

72 years old, with a 210 average, and today with a 238 average.  Wow, now that is impressive.

My Dad just retired from bowling, and he gave me his ball.  He said it was hurting too much to bowl, so he walked away from a game that he'd enjoyed for 75 years. 

I had the ball re-drilled last week to fit my hand, and decided out of nostalgia to continue the family tradition.  Week one in the books.  Thanks Dad. 

 

Welcome Home Joe!

I cry.

Real men love Jesus, their wives, their parents, their children, their family, and they cry.  I must be a real man.  I am crying now.  Big deal.  I'm still so happy that it's hard to contain my emotions.

I am not ashamed to cry; and although I don't do it very often, when it happens, it is hard to stop.  Yesterday was one such example of happy tears, and they were flowing freely.

I was deeply saddened and cried in private when my baby girl wept on my shoulders during Joe's departure 231 days ago.  It was the same kind of sadness and weeping that I experienced after the OKC bombing when I felt the explosion in my body from a safe distance of 8 miles away.  The same kind of sadness after 9/11, the same kind of sadness with the deaths of Grandpa, Papaw, and Nanny.

Yesterday was happy tears though.  It was all I could do to hold it together in the lobby standing with the 100's of other family members.  And then when we saw these men walking down the hall, the claps and cheers started; and that's when I lost it. 

Relief.  It was finally over.  Joe was home.  Alive.  With all of his body parts intact.  I truly hope, with every fiber of my being, that this is the last time he will have been deployed.

I am proud of Joe, proud that he is willing to serve our country, and proud that he is my son in law, and loves my daughter, and loves my two grand-daughters.  But, I still want him home.  For good.

I love you Joe.  Welcome home. 

- Dad