Getting older by the minute....

Yesterday was my 61st birthday......and that's about all I have to say about that!

I met some of my old high school buddies for breakfast, and as always, it was filled with laughter, tall tales, old memories, and some concerns for friends who are dealing with health issues that we all know could beset any of us now that we are at "that age".

One of my very best friends is dealing with some of those problems.....very serious, although he tends to make light of it when we're together. Yesterday, he mentioned that the risk of additional surgery is greater than living with the problem. Sometimes life gives us bitter pills.

What do I do?

How do I act?

We've known each other too long to just ignore it, and I've nagged him for years about giving up some of the vices that have exacerbated these health issues. But, he's the kind of guy who has always lived life to the fullest, and who probably won't change now.

Still rides his Harley.....with no helmet!

Still smokes.....but not as much!

Still enjoys the good food.....can't comment on this one!

You do what you can, say what you may, but in the end it's the decision of each of us to make the necessary changes. Not so much for ourselves, but for those who care about us.

Yesterday was my 61st birthday...... I hope to celebrate the next one with a breakfast with my friends.

All of them.

I've only got two hands.....

A few weeks ago we took delivery of a pre-packaged kit to build a combination playhouse and garden shed. You know, one of those wonderfully marketed, beautifully illustrated, cute as a button little cottages that two men can assemble in twenty hours........fat chance.

My two boys were coming home for a visit and it was my plan to have everything ready so we could tackle the ordeal of uncrating and assembling the kit......I even took a few minutes to read the instructions, all forty-six pages! On page three there was a list of the tools that would be needed to tackle the job, hammer, pry bar, level, skilsaw, tin snips, reciprocating saw.....reciprocating saw? I don't own a reciprocating saw, and I'm not really sure I know what one is. Not a problem...I have a computer, I have the Internet, I can have one in a manner of days.

Sure enough, I found what I was looking for and placed the order for a brand new Milwaukee SawZall, which according to the website, was exactly what I was looking for to do the job. My order qualified for expedited shipping and I would have it in a couple of days. Great, it would be here by the following weekend and I could continue the project. We have a great UPS delivery man, and when I pulled into the driveway Thursday afternoon, a large box awaited me......too large.....much too large for a new saw.

The packing slip indicated that this brand new, state of the art ShopVac, should have been received by someone in Indiana......not some old cowboy in Kansas.

So, I went back to the internet, found the phone number and called customer service. "Oops, our mistake." the man said. "Ship it back and we'll ship your saw when we receive the ShopVac." I didn't care much for the fact that he didn't trust me enough to ship my saw until he received the return, and I said so. He then assured me that he would see what he could do about sending it earlier. So I sent the ShopVac and waited for my saw.....and waited.....and waited. No saw appeared at my back door, and no communication from the shipper. Being the impatient man that I am, I called and asked for my account to be credited, which they promptly did. Back to square one.

At that point I decided to take a drive to a nearby town to make the purchase. I found what I was looking for, and drove home. What's that? A small box setting outside the back door.....SawZall.

Okay, so now I have two saws, and I've only paid for one. The next day was a busy day, and I didn't have time to call the merchant to see how we would handle the error. I was on my way home when my cell phone rang.....

It was Miss Elizabeth, who said, "Guess what?" I hate it when people say that. It could be anything, and I'm not a very good guesser. But, I played along and said, "I don't know, what?"

"UPS just delivered another SawZall."

Good grief! Now, I've got three new SawZalls and only two hands......What's a guy to do?

Well, as we all know by now - don't look to me for answers, 'cause what do I know?

Dust in the wind.....

It's been awhile since I've had the inclination to write anything. The summer has been, and continues to be brutal. And, as the drought continues across the country those of us in Kansas are truly suffering.

This morning, however, I awoke to overcast skies and a few drops of rain. Not enough to even settle the dust, but a pleasant break from the stifling heat to which we've become accustomed. Day after day of 100+ temperatures, and not much relief once the sun sets in the evening. Last night it was still 100 degrees at 11:00pm.

The grasses in my pastures are brown and crisp to the touch, and in the areas where the cows have grazed heavily the ground is barren and dust swirls in the hot wind. I'm hesitant to drive across the pasture for fear of starting a fire that would rage out of control with the heat, wind, and lack of humidity. All in all, it's a dire situation for both man and beast.

I have sixteen cows and sixteen calves trying to scrounge for food, water, and shade. Most days I'll find them lined up along the pond dam, standing in water that barely covers their knees, but undoubtedly adds to their comfort. At the start of the summer the cows would have been neck deep, but that pond has all but gone dry. Fortunately, I have two others, but without some significant rainfall they will be in the same sad shape.

The drought has driven up feed prices, and has driven down the price of cattle as more and more producers are having to downsize, or liquidate, their herds. I'll sell calves next month that will bring significantly fewer dollars than they would have earlier this year.....hopefully, I won't have to sell the cows as well.

I'm typically an optimist, but it's becoming more and more difficult to see the silver lining. I'm sure it's still out there, somewhere in the distance.....somewhere....in the distance.....but what the heck do I know anyway!

Are we having fun yet?

"Are you floating or walking?" That had become the question of the day on our recent float trip. We were bone tired, hungry, thirsty, and were just a little cynical of our leader's decision making abilities.

Oh, I forgot.....There's no leader in sight!

The first day of a floating/fishing trip is always filled with optimism. We were up at 5:00am, had our fishing equipment and boats loaded in the truck and on the road to Arkansas by 6:30am. It's about a 5-6 hour trip by the time you allow for pit stops, lunch, and a short shopping stint at Bass Pro in Springfield (another story for another time).

In past years we've met up with our group at the cabin, then proceeded to the river for a short float on the first day. Of course last year the river was at flood stage and all of our floats were "short, fast & furious".

This year would be different!

We had noticed how dry everything looked during the drive over, and it was evident that there had been very little rain for a few weeks. So when we arrived at the river we weren't surprised to see the water much lower than the year before. It may have been lower, but it was crystal clear and very inviting.

It was 3:00pm and time to launch. We'd be finished with this eight mile float before dark; plenty of time for some refreshments and a nice dinner.....

Within a couple hundred yards we hit our first snag, literally. There wasn't enough water in the shallow spots to keep our pontoon boats afloat. Not a problem, we just stood up and dragged the little boats through the shallows and into the next pool.....and again, and again, and again....float and walk, float and walk, slip and fall, bang your knee on a rock, bruise your shin on the boat....all the way down the river!

"Hey, how much farther 'til we reach our destination?" No answer from our leader.

There was a stiff wind in our face, and all of us were struggling to make headway against it. We were getting no assistance from the current since there wasn't enough water to create a downstream flow. Someone wisecracked, "Maybe if we turn our boats around and row backwards it'll be easier....you know, the wind will be at our back instead of in our face!" I won't divulge the identity of the person who uttered that little gem.

Anyway, I think you get the "drift".  After lots of walking, lots of rowing, and lots of sarcasm, we found ourselves gazing at the stars, which were beautiful by the way, and about two-thirds of the eight mile float was behind us. The stars were bright, but the moon was nowhere to be seen. It was dark, but at least we weren't lost.....we were still on the river.....

"Are you walking or floating?  "I can't see you."

"I can't see anything".

"Are we there yet?"

"If we go under the bridge, we've gone too far."

No one had a flashlight. No one had drinking water. No one had thought to bring a sandwich. Did I mention that it was also dark!

It was approaching 11:00pm when we heard a car and glimpsed it's headlights piercing the darkness across the bridge. We knew we were nearing the end of the journey.....

"Hey Wayne, why don't you hit the alarm button on your key so we can see where your truck is parked?"

"Yeah, that's a great idea."

"What do you mean, the keys are in the truck???"

It was fun and we'll probably do it again......but as always, what do I know?

No one knows it all....

I live on a small ranch/farm and know all too well the difficulties of making sure that everything that needs to get done...gets done! It's a constant battle to ensure that fences are in good repair, cattle are checked daily, pastures are sprayed, and on and on and on....

So what's the big deal, you say. You made the decision to live that lifestyle and the hard work that goes with it. And, of course, you would be correct. It's a lifestyle that's like no other, except for that of an owner of a small business. Now, that's hard work!

Oh, but wait; Owning a small ranch or farm is the same as owning a small business.....they are one in the same.

A few weeks ago I was invited to speak at a gathering that was identified as a Farmers and Businessmen Banquet.  My opening line was something to the effect that "How do you differentiate between the two?"  It was met with a resounding "thumbs-up".

Both vocations, small business ownership and farming, require  a commitment to long days, multiple disciplines, and a willingness to seek help when you need it. In my case, help is something I seek on a regular basis. I know when I'm in over my head, and know enough to find someone who can give me the guidance I need. There's nothing wrong with asking for help when you need it, and believe me it's far better than beating your head against the wall when you don't know the answer yourself.

My day job is that of a business coach, and I'm constantly coaching business owners on the "how-to" of starting and operating a business. How's the best way to market your product? Is it better to lease or purchase a piece of equipment? Is it better to be an LLC or Sole Proprietorship? Then, they ask "How am I supposed to know all of this stuff?"

My answer is, you shouldn't even consider trying to know how to do it all. That's a sure-fired way to run your business into the ground. Concentrate on the things you do best, and get help with the things you either don't know how, or don't like to do. Otherwise, those things will probably get done poorly, or not get done at all.

The moral of the story is; No one is an expert at everything, and there is nothing to apologize for when you need to ask for help......In fact, it's probably the smartest decision you'll make.

I politely declined the request....twice!

All my life I've had very little interest in all things political, and no desire whatsoever to throw my hat into the ring.  Still don't......

"Jack we think you'd be a great County Commissioner! Why don't you run for the seat that's up in your district?"

 It wasn't so much a question as it was a plea from an acquaintance who had just experienced an exasperating hour pleading his case in front of the three men who govern the affairs of our County.

That was eight years ago, and I was fairly new to the County.

I politely declined his request.

Four years later, and more than one person approached me with the same suggestion.....run for office!

Again, it's not that I'm not a concerned citizen, but it just didn't feel right. I was busy with a couple of different business ventures and trying to learn the cattle raising thing at the ranch. I didn't need the distraction of public office.

Once again, I declined.

Here it is four years later, I've sold one of the businesses, and the cattle business is less intimidating to me than it was a few years ago. Earlier this year I was told that the incumbent was planning to retire and it was time for me to get off my duff and run for the seat that was evidently going to be vacant.

I said that I'd think about it....

Now, I've picked up the filing papers and have commenced gathering signatures for a "filing by petition" which I've been told is the best way to approach a political campaign. I have until June 1st to either turn in the papers or bow out gracefully. I suppose I'll turn them in to the Court House, and announce my official candidacy for County Commissioner....

What am I thinking.....

I suppose it still comes around to that old "What do I know?"

I swear it wasn't me.....

When I was kid my folks bought a little two bedroom house and moved the family to town. We had always lived in rented houses "out in the country" so everyone seemed to be excited about the move. Now, I can't imagine wanting to leave the country life for the city.

But, I was only four when we moved into the house, and soon learned to tune out the sights and sounds that were far different than the ones to which I was accustomed; the whistle of the train that was hauling crude oil to the refinery, the stink of the refinery itself, and of course the constant rumble of the trash trucks heading past our house to the city dump.

Location, location, location.....I'm not sure my parents were made aware of that rule of thumb when buying their first piece of real estate. But, as a youngster, I learned to appreciate some of the opportunities it provided.

If a person was not averse to risk, he might hitch a ride on the back of one of the slow-moving trains and cut the walk down to the river trestle by half. Then, upon arrival at the bridge, one might learn how to swing down from the outside edge over the river, and drop to the concrete pillars that supported the trestle. Not many people were aware of the 2x12 timbers that formed a little crawl space under the bridge, but for those who were either brave or foolish enough to crawl out to the middle of the river, it was a great place to hang out.

I'm not aware of anyone who had the nerve to jump into the river as it flowed over the rocks below, but it was not because it wasn't discussed at length. For the most part, it was just a good place to escape from everything for awhile, shoot .22s at snakes, turtles, fish, and anything else that happened to float by. Occasionally, you might be "fortunate" enough to experience the tremendous vibration, heat, and noise of the train as it lumbered across the trestle directly over your head.

I recall these things only because they are the stories that were related to me by those rowdy kids of my neighborhood.......I swear it wasn't me who did it.....But, then again, my memory fails me at times, and it's quite often that I simply have to say, "what do I know".