give a hoot!

 

What you see above is a collage of the Bergin Lake Shelter in Blue & Grey Park.  This is where I've been parking my truck at night.  Isn't it beautiful?  The small pond would be the perfect home for some Florida gators if it weren't for the bitter winters here.  There are two nice little park grills and a picnic table, as well as a burn pit for bonfires.  It's a popular daytime spot with families on the weekend, and an almost nightly host to the young & the restless.

Over the almost two weeks I've been here I've met some great people at this spot.  On my third night I pulled up and there was a group of kids (haha, I'm old;  18 - 26 y/os are kids) playing beer pong at the picnic tables, and one guy at the shoreline with two lines in.  Dying to know what fish were worth catching in the little pond, I made a beeline for the angler.  That's how I met Adam.  It turns out he wasn't after fish at all.  He was there to catch snapping turtles.  Turtle soup is one of his favorites.  He assured me they were legal, and we proceeded to shoot the breeze about fishing, life, the universe and everything.  Adam is probably the most country guy I've ever met, and I've met some COUNTRY folks.  It was a delight chatting with him, and he told me all about his farm, family, and all the great fishing and hunting spots in the area.  Before I arrived he had a monster hooked, but it broke his line.  The trail in the mud gave credence to the size of 'the one that got away'.  He never had any more luck while I was there, but assured me he was out there on a regular basis.  I made him promise to have me over for dinner for some turtle soup when he got one.  I should have gotten his number, but I'm sure I'll bump into him again.

Adam took his leave (when his wife called to get him home for supper), and I headed to the truck to get changed for the trek through the brush.  I almost passed on the partying kids.  On the way by, they hollered hello, so I strolled over and made myself at home.  I had a blast with them, and they all insisted that they had never met anyone quite like me.  They seemed astounded at the way I strolled up, plopped down at the table and acted like I'd known them forever.  Hey, you're the ones who said hello!  Heh.  Their jaws DROPPED when they found out how old I am.  I'm loving this baby face I cursed in my teens and early twenties.  I really enjoyed them and we had some interesting conversations.  Anthony, on the far left, has a nice piece of property and a lot of toys.  Numerous guitars, dirt-bikes and plenty of other things I'm sure.  After letting him peruse my iPod, he was sure we'd be friends.  When he heard my camping plans, he offered for me to stay at his house.  A man after my own heart.  I politely declined, explaining I was homeless by choice, and that I was loving every second in the woods.  I got to share some new music with him, and he was excited at the thought of using some of it for his dirt-bike videos.  I'm looking forward to taking him up on his invite to come ride, and I hope to share some of his action videos here on the blog.  It's been years since I was on a bike, but I'm pretty sure I've still got the knack.  The one just to his right is Michael, who's a city kid.  How he ended up with the Lone Jack crew is still a bit of a mystery, but he's got a good spirit.  We had a conversation about personal honor, which is of great importance to me, and Michael has it in spades.  The others are Casey, George, Blake and Alex.  I don't mean to leave the others out, but Anthony and Michael did most of the talking, and this post is already getting a little long in the tooth.

A few days later I was rolling in one night, and as I turned onto Brown Rd., I said to God, "I'm really tired of peanut butter sandwiches."  They were all I'd had in my pantry for the last two days.  Not two minutes later, I pulled in to find a family picnicking under the shelter.  I had barely gotten out of my truck when Travis, one of the picnickers, came over and said, "Hey, brother, how are you?  We're about to wrap up, and we've got one steak left on the grill.  Plus a ton of sides.  Are you hungry at all?  We don't want to mess with leftovers, and we hate to waste it.  Can I make you a plate?"  Why, yes!  Yes you certainly can!  I picked their brains about things to see and places to go as I munched down steak, beans, and some of the biggest, sweetest strawberries I've ever had.  They told me about James A. Reid park, which has a free archery range that includes a 'game trail' with targets set up in the bushes.  I have my bow with me, and while I haven't gotten to go shoot yet, I'm itching for some zen archery.  If my prayers keep getting answered like this I'm going to get spoiled.  It puts me in mind of Matthew 6:31-33 "Do not worry then, saying, 'What will we eat?' or 'What will we drink?' or 'What will we wear for clothing?'  For the Gentiles eagerly seek after these things;  for your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things.  But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you."  And how!  Amen!

Alas, not all of Bergin's patrons are cool.  A night or two later, while the rain was coming down I heard a group whooping it up from my tent.  There was something about the tone of their reveling that made my hackles raise.  The next morning I rose to discover the area was not only littered with their beer cans and garbage, but they had burned a pile of stolen traffic cones and signs on the shelter floor.  I could smell the fetid stench of melted plastic before I even got out of the woods.  There's nothing like a five foot diameter smoldering pile of toxic sludge to dampen a beautiful setting like Bergin.  So I cleaned up their trash, and collected their aluminum for the recycler.  I've continued to play adopt-a-shelter every morning it was needed.  I figured when I finally met up with a park ranger I could show them my blog, and hopefully have them see me as an ally (which happened this morning.  bureaucracy is bureaucracy.  more on that later).  SIGH!  Is it really asking too much to clean up after yourselves?  Apparently it is.  On the bright side, when my bag of smashed cans is full I'll make a little extra money cashing their refuse in.

I feel like the crying Indian,

Daniel

a tremendous loss

My best friend from high school Michael Tomberlin's mother passed away on June 20th, and her funeral service was today.  Many people toss the phrase 'brother from another mother' around, but in Mike's case, it really was true.  Debbie was my other mother.  I met Mike on the first day at a new school my sophomore year.  We had first period P.E. together, and he adopted me instantly.  I was blessed to share in the large circle of friends his popularity and good name had afforded him, and I spent almost every weekend at the Tomberlin's house.

Debbie was witty, charming, and good-hearted.  I know for certain I am not the only one to consider her a surrogate mother, as she had a kind word, a wise ear, and a soft spot for all of Mike's friends.  She raised Mike and his older brother Nate (with the help of her equally amazing husband Chuck) to be men of exceptional quality.

I will dearly miss her, and the times we all spent together watching Grease and Elvis movies.  She was a one of kind lady, and I'm sorry I can't be in Florida to honor her in person.

Please pray for her family's peace.

Thanks,
Daniel

happy birthday mom!!!

Today is my mother's birthday.  As she is fond of saying, "It's the perfect birthday;  exactly six months from Christmas either way."  She is the embodiment of charm and grace, and her tender guidance shaped the men my brothers and I have become.  In a world full of bad parents and neglected kids, I never lose sight of just how amazingly blessed I am to have her as my mother.  I'll never win the Lotto because I won a much better one the day I was born!

She is the baby of four children, with two older sisters and a brother.  She was born and grew up in Ft. Pierce, Florida, where I was also born.

Today she turns %# and I never cease to be amazed at her continued energy and creativity.  Her blog puts mine to shame, and her photography is only rivaled by my older brother's (which you can see here).  She has mastered photoshop and the art of HTML at an age when most are confounded even by checking email.

She has spent her life volunteering for charitable causes, and currently presides over her chapter of P.E.O. as president.  She teaches a women's bible study group and works in our church's bookstore.  In years past she volunteered at a crisis pregnancy center, choosing to provide a loving alternative to abortion, rather than picket angrily with hate filled signs.  Through her faith, she has introduced me to Christ's grace, and set a sterling example of what love and service to the world is all about.

She is an animal lover, and our house has always been a menagerie of dogs, cats, birds, fish, hermit crabs and more (check her blog for the cutest photos of the current roster).  She has a zeal for Scottish terriers that rivals her love for her children, and scotty art and decorations peer at you in almost every room of her gorgeously decorated house.

Isn't she as beautiful today as she was on her wedding day?  Her love and guidance in my life are irreplaceable, and I can't even imagine a world without her.


I love you, mom.  Happy birthday!!!

You should all call your mothers today.  =)

Daniel

blood money

As I mentioned yesterday, I had an appointment to earn a little cash today.  I went down to the local Biolife clinic and 'donated' some plasma.  I have friends that do it for beer money, but I was a donor virgin.  The first time is a bit of a drag, it took three hours to get through all of the screening.  I WAS very pleased to see my vitals were all well within the healthy range.  My at rest heart rate was a little higher than I'm used to;  74bpm vice 60, but I attribute it to nerves.  I'm not squeamish about needles, but who can say they're totally relaxed while waiting to get a large needle jammed in their arm?  Once I was on the couch my total needle time was 34 minutes.  The technicians were all impressed at how quickly my juices were flowing.  They told me the better hydrated you are, the quicker it goes.  No wonder.  I refill my Camelback four or five times a day.  The facility was comfortable and the staff was very friendly.  When you're a first timer they pay extra (to get you hooked).  Out here the first four visits respectively pay: $40, $50, $60, then $70.  Not bad for saving lives!  Once you're a regular it pays $25 the first donation in a week and $30 for the second.  Federal law sets a schedule of no more than twice a week, a minimum of two days apart.  I'll be back on Monday for my $50.  I'm expecting it to take around 45 minutes now that I'm in the system.  When I first heard about it, I thought it was something junkies and winos do.  I couldn't have been more wrong.  The overwhelming majority of clientelle were clean and well dressed.  I'm guessing most were there more as a public service than for the cash (prepaid debit card, actually).  When I did a little research online, I discovered that there is actually a tremendous need for plasma.  I hope my juices save some kid's life some day.  So at the end of the day I have gas in my tank, food in my belly, and smoke in my lungs.  No need to burden Kimberly's finances any more.  =)

I hope all of you might consider giving some plasma.  It really can save lives and a little extra cash is never a bad thing.  Drink plenty of water, bring a book, and relax on a couch for a bit.  Look at the picture to the right.  Does that really look so bad?

Peace and light,
Daniel

lord of the tent

Mr. Alex smells shenanigans!

A lot of you may be wondering, 'But why Missouri?  And how?'  Well, I have this beautiful and amazing sister named Kimberly.  We met almost six years ago when she lived in Florida, but she moved back here to be with her father, the Kansas City Secret Santa, when his health faltered.  Sadly, he lost his battle with cancer in 2007, and Kimberly decided to stick around home for a while.  I got a chance to come out and visit her a few summers ago, and just fell in love with the country, climate (the winter may change that view), and the people out here.  She had a tough winter this year, so I came out to lend a little brotherly support.  We had such a good time, and it was so therapeutic for both of us, I decided it was time to indulge my wanderlust and switch things up for a while.  I'm sure I'll come back to my beloved Florida eventually, but it feels great to flex my gypsy vagabond spirit muscles.  I've made some amazing new friends that I've been able to share with her, and I truly look forward to exploring all of the rich historical and natural wonders that the area has to offer.  She's an excellent wingman.  Definitely an excellent wingman.  (K-Mart sucks!)  With my crazy living arrangement, I'm also hoping to set aside the money to finish my BSME at UCF when I do return.  So it's win-win all around.  I've missed her like crazy, as most of you probably know.

What most of you may not know is that she is a very talented artist.  We scored this Oriental divider in the summer of '09 while I was here visiting after the Wanee festival.  We got it and several other things at a yard sale for $5, if I remember correctly (she's quite the haggler).  The panels rotate, and we think it was meant to be filled with photographs.  She let it sit for quite a while, and while I was home gathering my things, she finally got to work on it.  She painted cardboard panels, front and back, with a variety of colorful abstracts.  Doesn't it look gorgeous?  The picture doesn't really do it justice.  With the mobile panels, you can rearrange it on a whim.  Don't feel like orange today?  Swap it around for purple!  I took a look at its construction, and I'm pretty sure I could duplicate the frame pretty easily.  Place your orders now if you'd like to have one in YOUR home!  =)

Besides the screen divider, she also has a closet FULL of what I consider beautiful acrylic abstracts on canvas.  She has a tremendous appreciation for fairies these days, so perhaps if we all clap as loudly as we can, she'll let me post a gallery of her work.  It did the trick for Tinkerbell, after all.

She earned her degree from KU in Film and Theatre, although she hasn't worked in that medium for quite a while.  I'm working on a zombie movie script, and secretly (not any more) I'm hoping she'll direct it.  I'm dying (har har) to shoot a zombie flick at Jacob's house.  How could you not?  A solid brick house with roll-up Jalousie windows behind bars at the corner of Hampton and GORE beside the huge cemetery?  So be thinking about what kind of zombie injuries you want, I'm casting you all as my undead horde when the time comes.  Film or not, I WILL make every effort to be home for Halloween.  If the stars align right I'll be able to double up for Bear Creek in one trek.

This crazy venture wouldn't be going nearly as smoothly without Kimberly's assistance.  I know she'd want all of you to rest assured that her house is my safe haven in the event of dangerous weather.  Despite a wallet almost as thin as mine, she's ensured I keep food in my belly, smoke in my lungs, and gas in my tank.  Honestly, she's fretted over me like a mother hen.  Tomorrow I'll finally put some of my financial woes behind me, and get a little scratch in my pocket (more on that tomorrow).  The card to the left is part of a deck of Bodhisattvas that Kimberly has had as long as I've known her.  For those who don't know, a Bodhisattva is a Buddha that has forgone Nirvana to remain behind and guide all the remaining souls on their journey.  They're sort of like eastern guardian angels.  Like the Catholic Saints, there's one for every occasion.  The other night while we were hanging out at her house, Kimberly presented me with this one.  He's Mahakala, the Lord of the Tent, and slayer of demons.  How appropriate!  She gave me another one years ago, and insisted, "This is you!"  That one is for another post, though.

Last, but certainly not least, the sage fellow cheesing with Kimberly in the first photo is Mr. Alex, the freakishly large chihuahua.  Any of you who got a chance to meet my Milo before he went to the great wood in the sky can understand my endearment to freakishly large specimens.  He's part dog, part sphinx, part yoda, and all wonderful.  I'm lucky enough to get to take him for the occasional walk, and he and I have been close friends as long as Kimberly and I have.  He spends his days people watching out the back window from his perch on the armchair or canoodling with a dolphin pillow that Kimberly found at Goodwill.  He's a trooper, a terror, and a very well behaved young soul.  I hope to get the pair of them down to Florida to meet everyone and take a beach break some time.  Perhaps we should all clap loudly again?

Be good and have fun,
Daniel

the red one is due back tomorrow . . .

the most accurate job title i've ever held =)

Over the years I've worked on and off for Blockbuster Videos.  They've always been a great fallback when times are tight.  I first worked for them in Ocala, FL, where they gave me a set of keys at age 17.  After leaving the Navy I went back as an assistant manager at the district training store in Tampa.  Not long after that, I returned to their employ in Ft. Lauderdale as the senior assistant manager at the district training store there.  Now it's time to tap that well once more.  Despite their woes in competing with Redbox and Netflix, Blockbuster seems to be doing well out here in the mid-west.  You still see them on every corner, vying with Starbucks for greatest market saturation.  I attribute it to the mid-west personality - that desire to say hello and have a face to face conversation with the person supplying your movie for the evening.

I've always liked working for them.  The pay is decent, the work is easy, and the benefits are top notch.  Plus I love film.  Talking about it, making recommendations, critiquing it.  I'm a talker, and it's always been a good fit.  I first applied about a month ago, and kind of got the runaround from the store managers I talked to.  Then one of them finally gave me the district manager's phone number, and things started to move.  Hearing my prior experience, particularly in training, she was eager to get me into a store.  She put me in touch with Tim, who wasn't as gung ho to place me as she was.  Then a few days later his assistant unexpectedly quit while he was on vacation.  He wanted me in there ASAP!

I got delayed by some family business in Florida when I went home to retrieve my things, and through all of that, I kept Tim abreast, and he was holding the position for me.  So I finally made it back to Missouri, called Tim, and he said, "Actually, tomorrow is my last day, I got a new job.  Try calling the DM."  What a DRAG!  To have come all this way thinking I had a certain and immediate start date.

It all seems to be working out, though.  When I finally got the DM to call me back, she's now interested in hiring me as a store manager, most likely to run the training store.  SWEET!  I'm MORE than qualified, but knowing Blockbuster, I was only applying for an assistant position because they usually only promote into store manager, rather than hire in fresh.

The DM told me to be at the 'casting call' today at the store in Kansas City proper.  It has been an exercise in frustration.  First, the address she gave me is wrong.  It's 8030 N Oak Tafficaway NOT Street!!!  (Their website lists it incorrectly as well.)  My GPS took me on a wild goose chase to some spot 30 miles south of where I needed to be.  Then my iPhone took me to a dead end in the industrial district.  Then I looked on google maps and figured it out the old fashioned way.  What a difference the correct street name makes.  I'll tell you all, the old adage is true, "The devil is in the details."  Of course, all the extra mileage ran me out of gas, so I had to burn one more service call on my AAA Plus plan for 2 gallons of gas.

Anyway, this 'casting call' is a cattle call, and they're holding two today.  One at 2 and the other at 7.  I opted for the 2 O'clock, wanting to get it over with and have the security of a start date.  After the goose chase, I'm now stuck waiting for the 7 O'clock one.  Grrrrrrrr!!!  This is testing even my zen patience.  Luckily, I found a cozy library branch to catch up on some reading and post today's blog.

The worst part is this:  I walked into the BBV during the end of their 2 O'clock 'casting call' and there was a sea of kids walking in a circle.  Apparently BBV has forgone proper interviews for group games.  Honestly, I'm a 35 y/o professional, and I'm slumming it for the easy fit.  Can I please just sit down to a regular interview, or am I really going to have to play duck, duck, goose?

Pray for my patience and that this is all worth it.  I'd like an easy job training register jockeys for decent pay.  Being master of my own schedule is always nice, too.  As always, Romans 8:28, " . . . God causes all things to work together for good to those who love Him . . . "

Amen!
Daniel

we represent the lollipop guild . . .

last night was the craziest weather i've endured in the tent so far. i've had heavy rain and even hail most nights, but last night was different. there was very little in the way of thunder and lightning, but the wind was ferocious! howling and whipping, it kept my tent flapping like a hula dancer's skirt.  it was very strange.  it moved around in circles, roaming up and down the woods in a very localized fashion.  i would hear it wander away, turn, and come racing back up past my position.  i couldn't help but think of angels playing soccer, rushing up and down a field of treetops, the wake of their passing stirring the leafy canopy beneath their feet.  through it all, i've stayed dry and comfortable.  mom and dad did a great job picking that wenzel 4-man a few Christmases ago!

home sweet home!  as you can see, i'm quite far into the wild.  i hiked for two hours to find a spot that was out of sight from the trails.  with 1,800 acres, you'd think it would be easy to find a secluded spot.  alas, the entirety of the park is completely spider-webbed with horse trails (and spider webs, particularly after dark).  i did finally settle on this site.  it's a good 30 yards off any trails, and hidden by stands of small trees in all directions.  except when i have my lantern on at night, it's completely invisible unless you bushwhack (and with the lantern it glows like a ufo!).  last night i noticed that the tree right outside my front door has some sort of apple sized fruit growing on it, but i haven't climbed it to find out what they are yet.   i have a laundry list of amenities to purchase, but so far it's been quite comfortable.  i'll be sure to get some indoor pictures of my setup on the next sunny day.

so no, i haven't gotten to meet these guys yet (although a part of me would love to.  who wouldn't?), but there's always tomorrow night.  i doubt my tent has the chutzpah to squash a mosquito, much less a wicked witch.  should i keep a welcome gift in the tent for them?  what do you bring over to the munchkin's house when visiting?  the stereotypical bottle of wine seems out of place, and i'm sure the lollipop guild keeps them in better sweets than i could procure.  i know hobbits like pipes and shire weed, but i think that assumption may be being heightist.

until tomorrow,
Daniel

tick suit

So here I am out in the rural area Southeast of Kansas City, Missouri.  I've been keeping a journal, but my family of bloggers recommended I share my little adventure this way.  It's a good fit, especially since I was just considering a weekly newsletter email.  I know there are a lot of you who miss me and want to keep up with my adventures out here.

For starters, I decided to forgo the expense of renting a place to rough it in the woods.  That's right, my latest 'Daniel did WHAT?!?!?!?' stunt is that I'm living out of a tent in the woods.  I'm nestled deep in the thicket, somewhere in the 1,800 beautiful acres of Blue & Grey Park, near Lone Jack, Missouri.

Most of you who know me well will realize that rather than an inconvenience, this is my heaven.  My 12-year-old heart is beating a happy dance with this faux summer camp.

So far, there's been only one inconvenience:  Those darn deer ticks!  The little buggers are as overpopulated as the deer they feed on, and getting to and from the tent usually involves the removal of a dozen or so.  I have been pretty careful about it;  the last thing I need is an infected bite, or worse, lyme disease.  I've designated a set of clothes as my 'brush traversing' gear:  boots, pants, long sleeved shirt, floppy hat, and gloves.  These are worn between truck and tent only, and promptly removed upon arrival at either end.  It's preventing the destruction of all my clothes (the horse trails are pretty muddy with all the rain), and helping to keep the tick issue minimized.  Last night I added the extra step of dousing the whole suit with 25% DEET Deepwoods OFF!.  It seems to have worked.  I didn't find a single tick on myself or the clothes last night!  Hallelujah!!!  I was doing a little research yesterday on the CDC website's post about lyme disease, and they mention that clothes can be treated with Permethrin, which I had never heard of.  Apparently it's more effective than DEET, and remains effective through several washes.

(Did I mention how muddy the horse trails are?)

That's all for now, I'll share some of my inventive solutions to basic necessities in future posts.  Fair winds and following seas!

=)
Daniel