Wilderness Blues- Ramblings from the Great Land

  Have you ever been going through your day, minding your own business, not hurting anyone, in fact possibly trying to be helpful when the caca hits the fan? I know you have. It happens to everyone; I'm certain of it. What I don't understand is, why does it happen with such regularity to me? When I was living in Hoonah, the only way off the island was either by boat or plane. As most of you know, I happened to be in an airplane that crashed into the water in February. That was more than a -Oh woe is me moment, but I survived it, so life goes on. However, the other way off the island, as I said, was by boat, usually the Alaska Marine Highway system. A ferry. I happened to be on a ferry that broke down so many times in my forty five years there, that the ferry terminal assistants used to ask me when I was planning on traveling, so they could schedule a trip at a different time. When I was writing my first book, I wasn't too familiar with computers. I'm still not, but I gu

  When I was sixteen, I bought my first shotgun. It was an H&R single shot twelve gauge. I wasn't really a hunter, but I thought it would give me a chance to spend more time outdoors when the fishing had slowed down. Though I had originally bought the gun for hunting rabbits or pheasants, or possibly quail, I never thought I'd have to use it on a spider. When the World War II ship I was stationed on in Key West was decommissioned around 1973, I was assigned to a much newer guided missile destroyer in Charleston, South Carolina. I didn't know anything about Charleston, except that it was in a southern state, and I was under the impression that a fellow who hailed from Ohio might not be all that welcome. I'd heard rumors that even though the civil war had been over for more than a hundred years, there were still some tender feelings. My fears were somewhat influenced by having just watched the movie, Deliverance, a few weeks prior to having to make the move. For those

  I was visiting my friend Matt in a recovery facility the other day. I don't really know what to call it, or actually what all they do there. It's kind of like a holding facility for people who have had operations and need a place to recover for a few weeks or months. They provide a private room and meals and have a nursing assistant come and give you meds if you need them. They also have a van to escort people to various places like the doctors or for dialysis. Matt just recently had his left leg amputated. He'd already had the right one taken off some years ago. I won't go in to all of his physical issues. Suffice it to say he's suffered lots in this world, but nonetheless, has one of the best attitudes of anyone I have ever met. In any event, we were visiting. He was wearing a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and sitting in a wheel chair. He started rubbing his recent wound and making moaning sounds. "Hey Tom, hand me that blue tube over there on the counter wo

Once in awhile I hear a country song that touches my heart. Of course there is no shortage of songs about  drinking or cheating but some of the songs are pretty funny. One song talks about the wife hiring a wino to decorate their home so her husband will feel comfortable and not have to go to the bar. Another one by a popular country star is about a fellow who is given an ultimatum. He can either spend the day on the lake fishing or he can be with his wife. He's singing about how he's going to miss her. I more or less understand. Fishing can be as exciting as sex sometimes, and it lasts longer too. When I moved north to Wasilla, I discovered that there was a classic country radio station right here in town, KAYO. Somehow when I was skipping through the various stations on the car radio, we invariably would run across this station, and I discovered that I actually was enjoying what I heard. Unlike the music that the younger generation is listening to, I've never seen a count

   I like to watch movies, though for over forty years I never went into a movie theatre. We didn't have a movie theatre in Hoonah, so we never got to see the latest releases. However, that changed when we moved to Wasilla. They have a large movie theatre here, a big honking thing with something like seven screens. On Tuesdays, they have $5.00 matinees, so if something comes on that I want to see, it doesn't break the bank.   Last week my wife and I went to see a movie titled  The Sound of Hope.  It's a true story about the people in the town of Possum Trot Texas, a small town in East Texas without even a traffic light. The people who live there are predominately African American and for the most part they are desperately poor.   I believe there is only one church there, the Bennet Chapel, pastored by W. C. Martin and his wife Donna. They have two children, a son who was born mentally handicapped, and a daughter. Life was hard for them, struggling to make ends meet. When Do

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~This is a poem that my Fan Story friend Adonna wrote. I never really cared for poetry until I started to read some of the work she put out. I've never known anyone who could put what was in their heart to words as well as she does. Her husband is suffering from dementia and she's been in need of some friends. I'm glad to be able to call her a friend, I only wish we lived closer to each other so I could help with some of the chores. My thanks to her for letting me use this fine poem on my blog. When I was a child I did not know how small the world could be. I did not know you were born only a few miles from where I lived, and if, perchance, I saw you at the grocery store clinging to your mother's hand as she reached for your favorite cereal, or smiling from a car window that passed me on the street, I did not know enough to smile back or to wave hello. I wish you had reached out for me then as I passed you by. If only I'd known you were so close. But God