The Amazing Global Concept

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GLOBAL

The global economy, the global experience, the global connection; call it what you will but the internet has certainly amazed this writer every day.  We talk about the global economy as though we understand how it affects our individual 401 k's and investments.  We debate the stupidity of college athletes when they do foolish yet typical teenage mistakes.  We listen to our grandparents discuss how they waited weeks for a letter from their son serving his country overseas.  Yet every day we watch the value of our investments fluctuate based on the actions of some country we have never heard of, we try and teach our children that cameras are everywhere and lastly we skype our loved ones as though they are not in some foreign land.

Amazing isn't it?  

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sidebar...

As I write this I have stopped and started several times.  I notice I have a tendency to get on a tangent regarding my concerns about the "global economy" and my concern about just who is reading the articles and why.  But to stay on track, and focus on positive things I will ignore those thoughts for now and certainly not bore you with any more gloom and doom.

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SO!  As I was saying, 

Amazing isn't it?!  Yes indeed it is.  Amazing how I can type something that can be seen instantly around the world.  More amazing is that more people are seeing it everyday, though they may not be reading it!  I would like to think they are anxiously awaiting the next article, but alas I ain't that arrogant....yet anyway!

With all this said, I wanted to share a statistic that Google Blogger tracks.  The system registered a person in Russia the first week or so after I posted my first writing.  What surprises me is how I continue to have people in far away places click on the blog.  My curiosity is growing as I wonder if they are clicking on it by mistake or if they are returning on purpose.  At any rate, here is some interesting statistics regarding "bd babble" and those "around the globe" who are "reading" it.  I know a college rugby friend has read it in New Zealand, though the system does not register him there, so I don't know how accurate this is, but fun anyway!  

On that note, please check out my friends blog at http://kiwiscots.blogspot.co.nz.  He post much more regularly than me, daily actually, and is a great read.  

Pageviews by Countries

United States

19

Russia

4

France

1

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as always,

bkd

"Don't be obsessed with your desires Danny. The Zen philosopher Basha once wrote, 'A flute with no holes, is not a flute. A donut with no hole, is a Danish.' He was a funny guy."   Ty Webb

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A boy and his DAWGS....chapter 3

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Da Boyz!

Mickey & Mason
Little Tybee Island, GA

September 1, 2005 Maggie met the new addition(s) to the Dixon household.  She had already met Toby and enjoyed her visits.  A visit from Toby was like a breath of fresh air.  She usually showed up with a couple of suitcases so it was quite different on that warm Friday afternoon when the 27 foot Penske truck pulled up out front of the house.  No worries Maggie thought; "daddy's home and Toby is with him; perhaps the big truck means she staying longer this time, that'll be GREAT!"  Wagging and panting Maggie greeted us at the door.  Excited as always and ready to be petted and spoiled.  THEN IT HAPPENED!  Around from the side of the truck he came; all 85 pounds of him!

Mickey enjoying a sunny day in Savannah, GA

"WHAT THE HELL?!

Maggie say hello to Mickey.  He is going to live with us!

"Oh HELL NO!, not in MY house!  What?!  WHO!?  NO! NO! NO! This is MY house!  This can't be!"

Mickey back home in Oregon

So maybe it wasn't quite this dramatic but it was a realization that Maggie had to learn to live with.  The big black MALE was here to stay.  Maggie and Mickey took to each other a little less than peas and carrots but they did well together.  Over the next year they tolerated each other and even learned to play together.  The following August, when Maggie passed, it was apparent Mickey was feeling the loss as much as I was.  Mickey, a very calm soul, had taken to Maggie and understood he was in her house.  Now he was the lead dawg, he was in charge.  It was his house to rule.

Mickey a rescue dawg, came to Toby in 2003 or 2004, she's really not sure.  Mickey had been tied to a tree in the rain with a note that simple said, "desperate, please take me".  Toby of course did just that and after a day or two figured that he liked being called Mickey.  Mickey, like Maggie, made the move from the Pacific Northwest to the Southeast while sitting in the front seat of a Penske rental truck.  Maggie saw Yellowstone National Park's Old Faithful, The Grand Tetons, and The Rockies; Mickey saw The Grand Canyon and the deserts of the Southwest.  Both agreed: The U S of A has some awesome places to run.

After Maggie's death we were just a one dawg family, and that was alright with me.  In May of 2008 we moved across the island to a larger house and a larger yard; and that Fall it was decided that I should receive a puppy for my birthday.  I really think Toby just wanted Mickey to have someone to play with but who am I to argue that.  So, on November 7, 2008 a puppy arrived.  I should note here that I have always wanted to name a dawg "dawg" and for the first few days I thought this was about to happen as we just couldn't seem to think of a name fitting the new puppy.  Finally Toby came up with the idea of Mason.  Mason Dixon.  Has a nice ring if I do say so myself.

Mason
"No, I didn't go piddle..."

Mason grew up fast.  He is a little slow in the head sometimes but what he lacks in common sense he makes up for in strength.  At just over 3 years old he pushes 90 pounds and contrary to friends and family he ain't all that overweight.  Mason likes to lean and when he leans he can move furniture.  He pushes Mickey around when its time to get petted or time to eat.  But don't be mistaken, at 85 plus, Mickey still rules and Mason knows it.  Mickey is more of the quiet type carrying a big stick he never has to use.

Da Boyz 

Mickey and Mason, appropriately known as Da Boyz, do almost everything together.  As he should, Mickey taught Mason the important facts of life; where to pee and where not to pee.  Funny as it is, Mason still hasn't learned to raise his leg, he just squats.  And when he squats, HE SQUATS!  Mason's bladder is larger than a Georgia Football Fan's on game day.  He has been timed at over 4 minutes, that's a long time when you think about it.

Whether going out, or coming in, da boyz go in unison.  Boating? love it!  Running the beach when the DNR ain't lookin?  love it!

Mickey & Mason
Little Tybee, GA
Surf Fishing Trip

Mason
Little Tybee, GA

Early February 2009 it was decided that the family should go for a short boat ride.  The weather was cool but sunny with calm seas.  It was Mason's first boat outing and almost his last.  As the story goes, depending on who you believe, Mason fell out of the boat.  With Toby at the wheel and da boyz riding on the bow, I was busy arranging coolers and chairs...yes, that means I was getting a beer.  Suddenly the boat slows and Toby is yelling Mason's name.  I turned looking back off the stern only to see Mason doing his best dawg paddle riding the top of a swell....about a hundred yards back!  Toby turned us around and off we went.  As we neared Mason I took hold of the stern line and a throw cushion and proceeded to jump in after him.  Now mind you, it was FEBRUARY!  And even in Savannah the water is COLD in February!  There was some speculation that he was pushed, but after a harsh interrogation no evidence could be found to support this theory, thus no charges were pressed against Mickey in the incident.  I still have my doubts.

Mason
Legs crossed all sophisticated...

Mason
What? Who me?

Mickey & Mason
Doing everything together, as always!

Da Boyz, you would think it was some bee bop boy band...
And you'd be right...... almost.  Some time back Da Boyz began harmonizing with the local firetrucks.  They practiced several times a week and always at noon on Wednesday, if the skies were clear and the county tested the tornado sirens.  I could not be prouder of Da Boyz and know they will go far as a great duet.  They do however, need a few more songs before they can cut an album.  Perhaps someone at Disney will read this and give us a call....

Mickey & Mason
Snow day, Jacksonville, Oregon
circa 2012

Mickey and Mason are doing well these days in our new home.  Mickey, though I am not sure he knows it, is back home in Oregon, just a few miles from where he and Toby first met.  Mason on his first move just does what he always does, follows Mickey.  Mason unfortunately did not get to see much of our great land on his move cross country as this time we flew.  Life is good though and da boyz get to hike in the mountains and if they were just remotely interested they could chase deer and turkeys.  Key word in that phrase, could, but they choose not to.  They have played in the snow and though they don't appear to enjoy it quite as much as Maggie they have fun running around in it.

As I bring this to a close I think of the dawgs in my life and can't help but smile.  From the time I was born there were the Boxers, Ponie and Brandie; then the lady Maggie and now Da Lab Boyz Mickey and Mason.  They have brought joy and frustration with every lick, bark and "oops, I didn't mean to do that".  They have brought happiness.  But I would be doing a great disservice writing about a boy and his dawgs if I didn't take a moment and give a respectful nod to the DAWG OF ALL DAWGS.  The most famous of all college mascots, beloved by millions, one whose face is as recognizable as Michael Jordan's skull; you know him, you love him (even if you hate what he stands for...but those people aren't reading this anyway)....
the one, the only................UGA!

 

 A boy and his DAWGS, ain't life grand?!

Bet you didn't see that ending coming...

as always,
bkd

own a pet, preferably a dog but if you have to, make it a cat...they will show you love when others won't
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Happy St Patrick's Day 2012

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Well it is late, or early, depending on how you look at the time.  Either way it is St. Patrick's Day in the good ole US of A.  People all over the land are preparing for a good day of fun and celebration.  Parades, cocktails, family and friends, and yes, more cocktails.  


Savannah, GA is predicting the largest crowd in their Parade history with expectations exceeding the one million people mark.  That's a LOT of folks!  Savannah, a town of roughly 75,000 people and Chatham County with a population of roughly 200,000, a million is a rather large jump.  I would think even a town such as Athens, GA, home to those great Bulldawgs, would have a difficult time handling such a dramatic increase in numbers.  So to my friends in Savannah....Enjoy.  Sounds like a good day to skip downtown and just go out on the boat.


I don't immediately have any pictures to share from past St. Patrick's Days from Savannah or Tybee, but I must say both parades are days full of fun and friends.....and a few drinks included.  If I am able to locate a photo or two today I will add them in...otherwise I'll save them for a "real" article next year.  


St. Patrick's Day, for many people, is well just another day.  I was one of those people the first year I moved to Savannah.  I had my entire sales staff scheduled and out making calls, little did I know what I was missing out on.  Over the next year or so I began to grasp a new appreciation for a day that meant very little to me as a child or even as a young adult.  St Patrick's Day to many is just a day of partying; and to them I say...well, good for you!  For others, it is a day of celebration, a day of ceremony, a day of tradition, a day of well, partying!  


St. Patrick's Day:  No, I see no need going into grave detail at this hour explaining the history or traditions of this day....you can always "google" it.  For me, St. Patrick's Day simply became a day of memories and honoring some wonderful people.  During my time in Savannah, I unfortunately lost several very important people, and always during the month of March.  Oddly enough, March  is also a time that I have been able to reconnect with some dear friends from college during the annual Savannah St Pats Rugby Tournament.  Yes, March has come to be a difficult month for me personally but at the same time it has become a time to rejoice in the bonds of friendship.  For those who know me well, they understand or at least accept my moments of misery during this time; but it is those people for whom I am the most greatful.


St. Patrick's Day is a day for celebration and Savannahians know how to do it best.  I cannot begin to comment on the details of this fine day, especially at such an impromptu writing and late hour.  So instead I simply say to all those who matter the most....Happy St. Patrick's Day, and allow me to raise my glass as a toast to you and yours.  God Speed my friend(s).....


as always, 
bkd

"It is better to spend money like there's no tomorrow than to spend tonight like there's no money!"


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A boy and his DAWGS...chapter two

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DAWGS:  

Books, TV shows and movies have all involved this beloved creature.  From the classic "Old Yeller" to "Cujo", Americans love their dawgs.
From "101 Dalmations" to " Burt Reynolds as Charlie B. Barkin in "All Dogs go to Heaven", America loves their dawgs.  
From the scruffy little dawg known as Benji to John Wayne's dawg in the movie Big Jake appropriately named "dawg", America loves their mutts.  
From the animated classics to real life, dawgs touch our very heart and soul.  They become family.

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Maggie Dixon, Border Collie, Lab Mix
circa 1999/2000

I always wanted to have another dawg after Brandie, boxer #2, passed away.  However, apartment life and a career in hotels and restaurants just did not lend it self to being a dawg owner.  Besides the hours at work, and apartment rules, there was all the moving and relocations.  Owning a dawg just wasn't practical.  Then one day, while I was out of town on training I got the phone call.  You know the kind.  The one that starts with "guess what I got US today?"  Which usually translates into "guess what you get to deal with".

what?

The story goes something like this:  "there was this lady outside the grocery store with a shoe box full of puppies and giving them away.  I know how much you've wanted a dawg and it's soooo cute! This was the last one."  Now, let me stop right here and point out a the importance of that last statement, "the last one".  One should always be cautious of "the last one", especially if it's free!  Last one usually implies not the best one.  Kinda like being picked last for kickball in grade school.  Last one.  Oh how those words would come to mean so much!

Maggie Dixon, a Border Collie/Lab mix, joined the family in the fall of 1998.  According to the vet, she may not have even been three weeks old when she arrived.  I learned a great deal about raising a dawg on my own with Maggie.  Many of her issues were likely due to my inexperience in training a dawg, not too mention her type of breed living in an apartment.  In an attempt to alleviate her stress of being left alone for long hours Maggie and I had a daily routine that included as much as three hours a day walking and playing at the local school track field; most often well after dark or in the wee hours of the morning, and almost always in the rain.  Gotta love the Pacific Northwest when it rains.





Maggie may have been a little overprotective, if there is such a thing for a dawg, and she certainly didn't take to unknown men coming into the house, especially tall men.  Never quite figured that one out, the taller the man the more worked up she got.  Nonetheless, she let everyone know whose home they were in and who was in charge, then she just required all visitors to pet her....non stop!  She terrorized my apartment as a puppy and almost got me evicted on more than one occasion.

Oh yes I CAN jump that high!\
[and she did!]

However, Maggie was undoubtedly the smartest dawg I have ever had, perhaps have ever known.  On our trips to the school field I would have Maggie sit at one end of the field while I walked toward the other end.  She sat patiently and anxious to run.  Once I got about middle of the field I would turn and pat my hand on my chest and she'd come a runnin!  I would snap my finger, point toward the ground and Maggie would stop and lay down.  Over time it got to be were I could be at the complete opposite end of the football field and do this process over and over till Maggie worked herself all the way to me.  It was amazing to watch.

So you want me to sit where

Another favorite was "carpet"!  To keep Maggie out of the kitchen while cooking all you had to do was say "carpet", and to the doorway she went.  She simply walked to the doorway leading to the den, turned and sat down on the carpet.  Funniest thing.  Over the first two years together, Maggie and I spent my days off exploring the Columbia Gorge, Washington & Oregon's coasts, and the woods near Washougal, Washington.  She loved the snow and water.  She swam in the Pacific Ocean while it was snowed and fell into a crevice on one of our trips up to Mt. St. Helens.

Maggie on our way to Mt. St. Helens, Washington
circa 1999

Though not a "snow dawg" such as a husky or st. bernard, Maggie actually slept in the snow on more than one occasion.  Hence when one of the friends of my neighbor in Savannah yelled at me for leaving her outside in November, it got down to a whopping 40 degrees, I just laughed and asked her to mind her own business.

Maggie moments before the snow gave way and she disappeared into an air pocket/crevice.
Road to Mt. St. Helens

Maggie Dixon
circa Spring 2000

Maggie followed me on my journey for the next eight years.  From Vancouver, WA, to Macon, GA, to Chapel Hill, NC, to Atlanta and finally to Savannah, GA.  She stayed with me during some tough times and adapted as best she could to an ever changing environment.  She even accepted and learned to live with Mickey when Toby and I married.  More about Mickey (Toby's Lab) later.  Maggie appears in a number of photos during my last few years in Washington and my only wish is that she could have been with us when we got the boat.  She would have loved that adventure.


"The Last One", Maggie taught me does not mean the worst one.  In her case it actually meant the Best One.  Perhaps too often we just assume if no one has picked us by the end we must not be all that good.  Maggie proved that concept is very wrong indeed.

Thanks for the bone, but yes, I still want to go outside.

Maggie Dixon
August 1998 - August 2006

Maggie Dixon:  smart, loving, and energetic.  Another Great Dawg!


as always, 
bkd

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Humor for the day.....

A guy is driving around Oklahoma and he sees a sign in front of a house: "Talking Dog For Sale." He rings the bell and the owner tells him the dog is in the backyard.

The guy goes into the backyard and sees a Labrador retriever sitting there.

"You talk?" he asks.

"Yep," the Lab replies.

"So, what's your story?"

The Lab looks up and says, "Well, I discovered that I could talk when I was pretty young. I wanted to help the government, so I told the CIA about my gift, and in no time at all they had me jetting from country to country, sitting in rooms with spies and world leaders, because no one figured a dog would be eavesdropping. I was one of their most valuable spies for eight years running."

"But the jetting around really tired me out, and I knew I wasn't getting any younger so I decided to settle down. I signed up for a job at the airport to do some undercover security wandering near suspicious characters and listening in."

"I uncovered some incredible dealings and was awarded a batch of medals. I got married, had a mess of puppies, and now I'm just retired."

The guy is amazed. He goes back in and asks the owner what he wants for the dog.

"Ten dollars," the guy says.

"Ten dollars? This dog is amazing. Why on earth are you selling him so cheap?"

"Because he's a damn liar. He never did any of that stuff."


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new comers....number 2

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So I learned if you click on a photo in a post it will enlarge to a more visible picture.

In other words no matter the size I post you can click on a photo and see it clearly!

Whew!  That'll save some space!

Aren't you glad I am learning all this for you?!  After all one should learn from other's mistakes...life is too short to make them all yourself!
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A boy and his DAWGS...chapter one

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the following dawg stories are dedicated to my friend, a great Vet, a family man,a great supporter of Savannah's Saint Patrick's Day Celebration and most importantly a TRUE DAWG; 

Dr. Patrick Andrew Bremer:  November 10, 1955 - March 4, 2012

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Ponie Red Dixon

"The First Boxer"

Christmas Eve, the family has eaten dinner, the kids are in bed, Mom and Dad smile and look at the wiggling package under the tree.  Inside that package is a bundle of joy, excitement, unconditional love, slobber and four paws big enough for an adult horse.  And in just a few more hours that package will be running and bouncing all over the house, furniture and all.  Scenes such as this unfold all over America on birthdays, anniversaries or most any other special day in ones life.

Christmas 1966, Ponie Red Dixon arrived and for the next 13 years she ruled the roost.  While technically intended to be a gift for my older brother, he was 3, Ponie was a family dawg...and yet she always seem to know she was suppose to listen to my brother more than anyone else.  Born in November she was 4 days younger than me and somehow decided that it was her duty in life to protect me at all cost; this was obviously the one occasion that she didn't listen to my brother!

 A fawn and white boxer referred to by the other kids in the neighborhood as "that big bulldog", she was born the runt of her litter.  As she grew she turned out to be rather large for the breed with two major health issues that actually made her more unique than anything.  Due to a type of skin cancer Ponie lost most of her hair; and while that may have affected her self esteem it was the gum disease causing her to loose her teeth that was probably the worst part.  I should note here that while it was most likely uncomfortable for her to be toothless, it was kinda funny.  A dawg, a boxer at that, with no teeth.  She could gum ya to death!

Ponie refused to wrestle with me I assume because she thought she would hurt me as she was growing up much faster than I; but that did not mean she didn't like a good rumble with some of the other neighborhood dawgs.  And the bigger the better.  No teeth?  No problem!  Ponie was a true boxer and could terrorize her opponent with a flurry of "punches".  Midnight, the solid black German Sheppard that lived down the street, was no exception.  On more than one occasion these two went at each other with such aggression that it was actually scary.  Funny, the things one remembers about their first dawg.

yes, we had style...

Ponie was indeed family.  She went on ALL family vacations and lives were planned and organized around her.  She slept at the foot of my brother's bed, more or less on his feet.  She entered and exited our fenced in yard via the gate just like the rest of us, even when it was closed.  She chased the ducks at Lake Norman, North Carolina and had as much room as anyone in the family station wagon.  She was the family protector and could smell up a room better than anyone.  She was our dawg.

Ponie lived to be 13 years old, a good dawg till the very end.

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Boxers, currently the 6th or 7th most popular breed in America, depending on which report you read, are strong short haired dogs who were once docked and cropped.  Docked is the clipping of the tail while cropped is shaping of the ears.  Today most boxers are only docked.  Ponie and Brandie where both docked and cropped as you can see by the photos here.  There are varying views on both of these practices and I'll leave this up to the reader to form their own opinion.

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Brandie Dixon
READY TO ROCK!

Brandie, the second boxer, joined the family a year or two later.  She was beautiful.  Great color, great markings and a strong muscular look.  Brandie loved ice.  Open the freezer, and there she was.  Unlike Ponie, Brandie had her teeth and she enjoyed nothing more than chomping on a cube of ice.

Standing up on her hind legs to beg for a piece of ice was not an uncommon scene in the family kitchen although there was some dispute among the family as to whether it was "cuter" to watch her sit up and beg or "cooler" for her to stand up on her hind legs.

I was a fan of the cool approach to ice begging.












Brandie had a tendency to dart out of the house and be gone for hours.  Many an afternoon was spent chasing her through the neighborhood once she slipped through an open door.  Her normal path was to bolt out the kitchen door, head straight out the driveway across the street and up the neighbor's drive.  Once there, she would either turn left or right running behind the houses; we were the only house at that time who had a fenced in yard.  We of course would then start chasing after her, only we had no idea which way she had gone.  We would see her cross the street a few houses down and by the time we got there she would be seen crossing back over the street at the opposite end from where we last saw her.  I think she did this just to entertain herself; watching us run up and down and side to side looking for her.  It never occurred to us to split up and wait on her.

It was this tendency to dart out into the street however,  that ultimately took Brandie from us.  Having survived the first of two collisions with a car, head on no less, the second time proved to be fatal.  Some dawgs just need to run.  Run she did.

Ponie Red Dixon and Brandie Dixon are buried next to each other in Pet Haven Cemetery, Macon, GA.  Two great dawgs.

as always, 
bkd


Unfortunately I could not find a video or scripted line of the greatest dawg joke of all time; so I will tell it as it was told to me, embellishments and all.  
The late, great Lewis Grizzard once said something to this effect:

"I remember goin to one um dem dar Gawga games wit

my two friends Bubba and Earl.  They didn't know much

bout Georgia Football and apparently even less bout 

dem dar dawgs!

Once we got to our seats I excused myself to go get us 

some dawgs (hot dogs) and a coke.  (yes everything in 

Georgia is called Coke).

While I was gone, the pregame show began and the Red Coats

and Cheer Leaders worked the crowd into a great frinzy.  At one 

point the head cheerleader walked the most recognized college mascot 

of all time onto the field where he, in all his glory, sat down on the 

fifty yard line and, as any dawg would.....

He DID what any dawg would.  

He licked himself.

Now this is where the story gets interesting.

As you may recall, Bubba and Earl were watching the pregame 

with great intensity...as any fan would....

Yeah!  Whatever!

Anyway, Bubba notices the great UGA doin his thing

and in a moment of jealousy says:

"I wish I could do that!"

too which Earl responds,

"Damn Bubba!  Don't you know that DAWG would bite you!"

*****

and that my friends is the greatest DAWG joke ever!

***

Godspeed Dr. B!  After all, all good dawgs go to heaven!

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For all the new comers....like me

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Black Butte Porter, ahhh
Crater Lake National Park, Oregon
circa October 2011

Good morning to all and thanks for the nice comments.  So far only those who have enjoyed reading have commented, let's keep it that way...

So for those who are as new to the whole "blog" thing as me, here is a little information:

First, I am working on the format and layout so the stories don't run together like they appear to do at this point.
Second, the stories appear in chronological order from newest to oldest; and as more stories are posted some will be hidden in the "older post" section at the bottom of the screen.  If you have not seen some of the first stories please do; I think you will enjoy the pictures if nothing else.
The information listed, currently on the right side of the screen, shows other blogs that I occasionally read as well as a link to Miss Judy's Fishing Charters.  I highly recommend reading "Life in the Long White Cloud".  It is a blog written by a college buddy I had the honor of playing rugby with at Georgia.  I of course would also recommend to anyone remotely interested in fishing to view Miss Judy's web page and her weekly fishing reports.

ATL Airport, December 2011

Other information on the side bar includes a "profile" on me, and a ticker showing how many people/times the blog has been looked at.  No it does not count my computer...  I am still a little confused on the difference between a "member" and someone who "follows" a blog so I can't help you with that just yet.

Lastly, the stories thus far have been about my alter ego, often referred to as "my evil twin cousin"....that usually confuses people but keeps me out of trouble.  In an effort to protect myself, my family, friends and most especially the guilty I will always try and offer aliases when appropriate.  Of course if there be any doubt just remember who is writing this and you will have no problem understanding that all of this is really just a figment of my imagination anyway and probably never happened in the first place; probably.

enjoy!

as always,
bkd
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Georgia Boy Goes Skiing

Snow Chains

Tourist:  someone traveling, a sight seer, a vacationer, funny or ill dressed individuals with cameras clicking away.  Someone who is always looking up instead of where they are going, someone out of their element, someone who doesn't know what they are doing, someone who is "in the way"!

Being mistaken as a tourist ain't all bad, and can actually work to ones advantage if used properly.  This was the case as I headed to Timberline Ski Lodge, Mt. Hood for my first "real" ski trip.  I had actually been skiing once before, 9 years before, but I don't count Sky Valley as a real trip....ski trip that is.  

Although I had driven in snow several times prior to my original move to the PNW, I had never had to use chains.  Heading up Mt. Hood, (elevation 11,249ft), snow chains are often required.  As I looked around there were several people having difficult times with their vehicles and getting the chains on the tires.  My friend Sam and I on the other hand where to busy laughing at each other and our lack of common sense to feel any emotion other than humor.  In typical fashion the day became one of having fun and just trying not to get hurt or worse while doing so.

Road to Timberline Ski Lodge
circa 1995/1996...
I do know it was a Wednesday!

Tourist vs. Idiot:  Although there is usually not much of a difference between these, a positive attitude can make being a tourist fun and allows the non tourists or locals to help you instead of yelling at you for being stupid.  Key here, let them see the license plate, speak with your best Georgia Drawl AND don't tell them you have lived in their state for almost a year!  

YES!  That is a CB antenna on top of the truck!
circa 1995/96

Timberline Lodge, Mt. Hood
my truck, with Georgia plates!

Timberline Ski Lodge; most memorable from the outside shots in the original "THE SHINING", starring Jack Nicholson.












Three days later the skies had cleared and the sun was shining, no pun intended.  I returned to Timberline after my practice day on Wednesday and checked into the lodge that Friday evening.  I awoke to an incredible view from my window...

View of Mt. Hood from room at Timberline Lodge
circa 1995/96

as always,
bkd

"There's more to do in the snow than ski."

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