November,
2018
The LATEST
“My own twisted look at my
visible part of the Universe!”
Late
summer in Oklahoma is usually punctuated by temperatures in the low hundreds,
thousands of acres of brown grass and state-wide burn bans. Burn ban’s mean that one cannot have an open
flame of any kind where the grass can catch fire and this includes barbeque
grills. Fires in this period move at the
speed of the wind, usually 10 mph or better.
The flames can be taller than telephone posts and are truly frightening
to behold. This year the temperature was quite moderate and we have had rain,
and a lot of it. So far, we have had
over fourteen inches in about three weeks.
Everything is green and the grass needs mowing, but the ground is too
wet to allow that.
During
WWII the United States had hurriedly sent three individual
regiments to defend New Caledonia against a feared Japanese attack. The
Division was formed in New Caledonia, and was given the moniker, ‘The Americal Division,’ in spite of the fact that its official
designation is the 23rd Division, the name being a
contraction of "American - New
Caledonian Division". In the Vietnam War, once
again the Army took one brigade of troops from Fort Benning, one brigade from
Panama and one brigade from Hawaii and gave it the moniker, ‘The Americal Division,’ in spite of the
fact that its official designation is still the 23rd Division. It is
rarely referred to as the 23rd Division. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/23rd_Infantry_Division_(United_States)
On
27 September of this year Fort Sill was the destination of the Americal
Division Reunion, meeting in Oklahoma City.
The Museum Director was at a conference and the other staff member was
on a well-earned leave. The Field
Artillery Museum was supposed to get one group at 1015 and the Fort Sill Museum
the other half. The plan was that after
lunch each group would trade places. It
sounded simple and workable. Well,
friends and neighbors put 204 elderly people in four busses and trek 90 miles
to the southwest and guess what they need when they arrive. You guessed it! And, they arrived at 0900, an hour and
fifteen minutes early. As I arrived at
0900, considerably early for the impending tour, and the busses pulled in
directly behind me. With a hiss of the
air brakes, they disembarked.
I
ran inside to try to prepare the museum staff for the incoming flood. The young man who would normally be manning
the desk had an appointment and was temporarily replaced by a young girl that I
had never seen before; who I assume was ‘girling’
the desk. This turned out to be
something of a fortuitous situation because as soon as the old vets and their
spouses hit the door the headed directly to the restrooms, and I was able to
send the girl into the Ladies Room several times to stock up on the necessary paper
products to perform the mission. They
were lined up from the restrooms back to the down-ramp to the south wing, about
fifty feet. By the time we got them all
through the restrooms it was somewhere around 1045. Well, that schedule was shot in the ass!
We
loaded them back in the busses to go to a local establishment for lunch. When they arrived, the establishment had no
knowledge of their impending arrival and had no food prepared. Arrangements were made to take them
elsewhere. This is not going
well.
In
the midst of all this a Lieutenant General (three stars), two Colonels and a
Major arrived for their tour. I
approached them attempting to manage that situation and was informed that the
Director of Museums was going to handle this.
Looking around, I didn’t see him, but fortunately, he arrived shortly
and took that one off of our hands.
Well,
thankfully, that’s over with! I have
come to the conclusion that I would rather deal with small children, little
germ factories that they are, than old people
. . . and,
I are one!
But,
Wait! There’s more! The whole group came back in the afternoon .
. . all afternoon! After giving them the best tour possible to such
an impossibly large group I believe that this day is finally over? OH, NO!
One gentleman came in needing some information on a particular gun. I got that for him and as soon as I was done
with him, another man entered requesting the correct color for painting the
artillery piece in his home town and asked me to give him the paint! The answer was a resounding, ”NO! I
don’t work here. I am just a volunteer
and do not have the authority to give away paint!” Sometimes I think God just likes to mess with
me!
On
1 October, the State of Oklahoma became one of the last to allow beer and wine
to be sold at common retail establishments.
No longer will we have to suffer with beer of 3.2% alcohol, but now get
full 6%. Prior to this, one had to go to
a liquor store to get ‘real’
beer. Now, 3.2% beer, which I do not
consider ‘beer,’ but post-mowing
re-hydration fluid, has been around since the end of Prohibition. So, I bought myself a twelve-pack of beer and
a bottle of wine . .
. Wal-Mart Wine. A bottle of $2.97 Wal-Mart Wine. I am now trying to sum up the courage to
drink it!
Early
in October I had a visit from Mr. Jim Bender, who is keeping the database of
surviving Civil War cannon. We toured
the facilities at Fort Sill and he was amazed at what he was seeing. It was nice have someone with whom I could ‘talk artillery’ who actually understood
what I was talking about. During our
trek through all of the storage buildings I had a brief, but spirited,
encounter with something. It raised
thirteen small blisters on the inner side of my left arm. I thought little about them as they did not
hurt or itch. I even went to the doctor
for my regular visit and failed to mention it as it looked like something that
would eventually go away. Since I am
susceptible to any kind of poison plant; poison ivy, poison oak, etc., I
figured I would itch, and then I would douse it with some decoction that would
do nothing but mark the spot until it went away on its own
On
6 October, Kevin said he wanted to take me to dinner at my favorite restaurant,
‘Salas’ Mexican Cantina.’ I thought it was unusual that he wanted to go
on a Saturday and in the evening, but, hey!
. . . Salas’ is Salas.’ So,
dutiful Dad that I am, I rounded up Darling Companion and headed out. As I walked into the place, it was crowded,
but I could see Kevin waving at me from a dining area behind the bar. We never sit there. I took the ramp up to the dining area and
discovered I had walked into an ambush.
Sitting there with Kevin, and his wife, Chris, were all of my siblings
and their spouses! ! ! Apparently, they
had been planning this for months and, I must say, pulled it off
flawlessly. The event was the
celebration of my 70th birthday.
We
had a great time, and a great meal! We
retired back to their hotel and garnered a room near the lobby to visit. Ironically, someone produced sufficient
quantities of real beer to make the event even more enjoyable. The next day, Sunday, we rounded them all up
and went to Mass in Marlow so my family could meet our friends and our friends
could meet our family. After Mass we
went to breakfast at my favorite greasy spoon, Mimi’s Daybreak Diner, the place
with leopard-skin pattern carpet. After
breakfast we retired to our humble abode to play guitar and sing. Had I known they were coming I would have
gotten more, and better, instruments, but then that would have spoiled the surprise.
The
following day we went to the Museum of the Great Plains where the school
teachers in the group were thoroughly enthralled. My precious little brother, Stephen and his
wife, Carol, had to leave on Monday, so they went to the airport to depart. Well, due to inclement weather at other
places there were mix-ups in flight schedules, so I went to the airport and
retrieved them and they were able to enjoy at least part of the day in the
museum. Later that afternoon I took them
back to make their flight. Due to all
the delays they were able to get home about 2000 that night.
Brothers-in-law
Paul, Karl and I toured Fort Sill. Karl
had been a lieutenant in the Marine Corps and trained at Fort Sill, so he was
somewhat familiar with the area. We
visited firing points, toured Medicine Bluffs, the post proper and visited
Geronimo in his cemetery. I used to mow
his grass. Due to the Columbus Day
holiday, the museums on Fort Sill were closed and there was no artillery firing
on the ranges. All in All, other than
the weather delaying flights, it was a great time. I still cannot believe I walked into an
ambush! ! !
When
I woke that Tuesday morning, the skin at the little blisters in the bite area
was black! It has small marks
that looked like a point-down equilateral triangle. The doctor took a brief look at it and said, “brown recluse.” He didn’t seem to think that my rapidly decaying
body was in a great deal of danger. He
prescribed an antibiotic and told me to take an antihistamine. The blasted thing had bitten me thirteen
times up and down my arm.
After
going to the doctor for the spider bite, obtaining the appropriate meds, I
planned on staying home and resting, and letting this now extremely painful wound
heal. Darling Companion took off to run
errands and to have lunch with her niece.
I was left me to my own devices.
Not feeling terribly well with nausea, fever and a very painful arm, I
went to the pantry in the garage to get a can of soup. I selected an appropriate foodstuff for my
lunch and when I returned to the house, THE DOOR WAS LOCKED! ! !
I
was in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, and had no keys. My cellphone was also safely ensconced in the
house. Well, what is a spider bite
victim to do? Fortunately, I had a
pegboard with some tools hanging in the garage and was able, by the hardest, to
get the door hinge pins pulled and the door removed. This still wasn’t easy, as the lockset was
still securely fastened on the other side and my arm hurt. After getting the door removed, imagine my
surprise to find the lockset in the ‘open’ position! I disassembled the thing, bathed it liberally
with WD-40 and re-assembled it. It seems
to be working quite well now, but I am not inclined to trust it at this point. To add insult to injure, one of the hinges
bit the corner off of my left index finger and that bad boy hurt. I was going to post pictures of my
spider-bitten arm, but after seeing them I decided not to.
Our
priest has organized a large Christmas Bazaar every year since his
arrival. People make Christmas-themed
crafts and they are sold the second to last week in November. Last year I made a number of leather cases
and pouches that were not terribly well received, they were, however not
Christmas-themed. Darling Companion has
been framing art and brooches and has had surprisingly good sales. Some things were sold before they were put
out to the public by the priest, who incidentally used to be a salesman and can
sell rosaries to Jews.
Figure 1: Christmas Angels
This
year, she has been making ‘Christmas Kitchen
Angels’ from hand towels and other assorted stuff. She has been wrapping candy bars in little
envelopes that look like Santa and wrapping little bottles of hand sanitizer in
Santa envelopes as ‘Hand Santa-tizer.’
She has her own little Bangladesh going in her craft room and spare bedroom. The little kitchen angels are taking over the
house. If I recall correctly, she has
made twenty that will be included in wine baskets and about that many more for
individual sale. The priest plans on decorating
a large Christmas tree with them!
Figure 2: A Christmas Angel on the right.
I don't know what
that thing on the left is, but, it is for sale.
Sourdough bread has been made for about 10,000 years
or since the inception of agriculture, and I have an inordinate fondness for Sourdough
bread. I have made it for several years,
but for some reason lately I am not able to get it to work. The recipe for the ‘starter’ is simple, using a half cup of flour and a half cup of
water, whip up a mixture that is similar to pancake batter. Expose it to the air so that the wild yeasts
can gain a foothold. In a couple of days
when you have enough starter, make bread in the normal fashion, reserving
enough starter for the next batch. Well,
for the last year or so I have not been able to get a batch to ’start.’ I use the same recipes, utensils, flour and
water, but alas, to no avail. I bought a
batch of commercial starter and it seems to be working, although, I still don’t
have enough to start baking yet. I just
have trouble believing that my house is so clean that yeast can’t live!
I
thank everyone for the Facebook birthday greetings and all of the cards I
received for my 70th birthday.
As A small child my health was somewhat fragile and I had pneumonia
about six times before I was five years old.
My Dad always maintained that had it not been for penicillin I would
have expired before my first year. That
being brought up, how long do you keep birthday cards, what is the statute of
limitations on those things? Also, what
is the time limit on those pictures you get at funerals and have no idea what
to do with after the deceased in interred?
Well,
friends and neighbors, that concludes this month’s edition of “The LATEST.”
Until
next time, I am the ex-patriot Creole,
Lynden T. Couvillion
Scribe
