My Adirondack Vacation Part One

In September, I took vacation with the intention of attending the ACFW conference in Minneapolis. However, I ended up rethinking my plans and taking a trip back to my home state of New York to visit family.

I was gone from September 19 – 28. It took me a few days to get pictures from my sister, since I didn’t have a camera (another story for another day). Now that I have them, here is a little summary of my vacation.

My sister and brother-in-law live in a small town in the Adirondack Mountains where the Adirondack Marathon Distance Festival takes place. It so happened that I had planned to be there that weekend. When I called and told our son, who lives in NYC, he decided that he would fulfill his dream of running the marathon.

I began my trip by leaving my house in Colorado at 3:00 AM in order to make my 8:00 AM flight out of Colorado Springs. My sister, Terry, was still at work when I arrived in Albany airport, where she was to pick me up, so I collected my baggage and settled down with my laptop for an hour or so until she arrived.Saturday was a busy day for my sister and her husband since they are both involved in the marathon activities and the event was to occur the next day. However, we did get a little while in the morning to relax and enjoy catching up with each other. Terry is taller, I'm older! We never did catch Terry's husband in front of a camera, but then, Wesley is king of the house anyway, make no mistake.

In the afternoon, we made a couple of trips to the high school where packet pickup was taking place. It was bustling with activity, as runners received their packets and perused the array of items for sale, from hats and shirts to power bars and sports drinks. An excited buzz dominated the scene as contestants and their families chattered about the upcoming competitions.

Mom arrived on the bus around noon that day. Wesley loves it when grandma comes to visit! Mom and I were nervous about my son and daughter-in-law finding their way up from the city in their rental car. My sister assured us, “if they were able to find their way into New York City from Colorado, I’m sure they can find Schroon Lake!”

She was right and they arrived at 4:30 without any problems.Jaque and Jason barely had time to say hello when out the door we went to the pasta dinner that is held at Word of Life Inn the night before the marathon.

Accompanying us was one of my sister’s dearest friends, Rachel. The food was fabulous and there was more than enough. Jason was a bit nervous Saturday evening, but come Sunday morning, I’m sure butterflies were beating their wings madly in every corner of his stomach. He had been training for the marathon in Central Park for about two months and decided he would register for the half-marathon instead of the full. Still, that meant he had thirteen miles of running to look forward to! The longest race he had ever run was the two-mile event in high school track eight years ago. During his training, he had worked up to eight miles with his sweetie, Jaque, riding her bike beside him and encouraging him every step of the way.

Terry got Jason to the start line for the half-marathon and Jaque in place for the spectator bus barely in the nick of time before the roads closed for the event. Then she came back to the house and picked mom and me up. We headed to our destination, water station 20.

I had never attended a marathon before, let alone worked a water station, so everything was new tome. Our tables were already set up and several gallons of water, bottles of sports drink, fig bars, and paper cups had been delivered. Now it was our job to pour water and sports drinks and get ready for the runners. My sister manned the karaoke machine,shouting encouragement to the runners as they appeared around the curve, grabbed a drink or offered a friendly wave, and disappeared on down the course toward the finish line.

Jason had told us he was sure he’d be ready for a break by the time he reached water station 20, but when he got there, he whizzed by with a wave and kept on going. He looked good and had a great pace.Jaque had been at the starting line to see him off and was waiting at the finish line. He told us later those last five mile s were tough, and when he got to water station 26, he thought he had a whole mile to go. He said the feeling of having that completion medal placed around his neck was well worth it.

The next day, we spent some time at Schroon Lake, enjoying the scenery.....Then we headed to the Schroon Lake shoreline and did some sitting around on the beach...and somebody decided to go wading, even though it was a bit chilly.My sister offered me the use of her swim suit if I wanted to come back for a swim, but I declined! After Jason had the opportunity to relax those tired muscles on the lake shore, he and Jaque had to head back to NYC that evening.

The rest of us spent the next few days visiting and enjoying each others company. Come back soon for my post on our trip to The Wild Center in Tupper Lake. Thanks for reading my blog.

PRAYING FOR AMERICA

I’m usually not a politically minded person. In the past, I always had a pretty good idea who I was going to vote for in the presidential election. A registered independent, I have voted both the Republican and Democratic ticket over the years.

I live in a “swing” state, so never has my vote been more crucial than this year. Both candidates have visited our state on more than one occasion. Unfortunately, I did not make it to any of those events, but I am following more closely than ever the newspapers, the debates, and the tide of public opinion.

I’m not going to make any particular political statement here, but I will say that I am leaning toward one side more than the other. That is due to the time I have spent in prayer about the issue, for the choice I have to make weighs heavy on my heart.

Many around me disagree with my choice, including some immediate family members. My most fervent prayer is for discernment to make the choice God would have me make in the best interest of our country.

Our pastor introduced us to something very exciting on Sunday called Praying for America. Those of us who chose to sign a commitment card were given a “map” to follow, which gives simple instructions on who and what to pray for over the next thirty days. Over that period of time, we will have prayed for all 50 states, our political leaders, individual citizens, and many more things.

I encourage anyone who may be interested in this to check out www.Praying4America.com, where the pamphlets and other materials can be obtained. I’m sure it’s not too late to order, and even though you may get started with the program a few days late (the start date was Oct 6), it would be well worth it. Even two or three weeks of daily prayer for our country with heartfelt and specific intercession can do wonders. We all know that because we know what a wondrous God we serve, and if thousands are praying for the good of our country, we know He will listen.

I urge everyone who reads this to spend time in earnest and centered prayer before going to the polls. We have less than a month to make a decision that will impact our country, one way or another, for many years to come.
God bless America!

Thanks for reading my blog.

The Friendly Skies

Ever since the first time I stepped inside an airplane and viewed the earth from a few thousand feet off the ground, I have loved flying. My first flight, I was sixteen and traveled across country from my home in New York to visit relatives in California. My dad had never set foot on a jet airliner in his life, and it was what he considered an unobtainable dream at that point in time.

We were delayed for hours. If my memory serves me correctly, there was some kind of hydraulic leak that needed to be fixed. That was back in the day when the airlines would do anything to satisfy disgruntled passengers, so when my dad asked the stewardess if he could board the plane and check on his daughter, who was flying for the first time, he was escorted onto the aircraft with all the fanfare that would have been given to royalty.

His greatest moment came when the pilot ushered him into the cockpit for a tour. He was as excited as a teen-ager with a meet and greet pass at a rock concert. I remember him walking down the center aisle, huge smile on his face, and stopping to ask me if I was nervous about flying in view of the mechanical problems encountered. I told him if the pilot was willing to go, I was too!

When we finally did take off, it was dusk, and since we were flying west, we traveled with the sunset all the way across country. I remember the breathtaking view. The sky spread endlessly before us in an array of pink, orange, and purple hues. Lightning lit up the impending darkness, and while other passengers cringed in fear, I couldn’t have been more thrilled. To this day, I love to watch a good electrical storm, despite the obvious danger.

That first flight for me was over forty years ago. A lot has changed since then. Flying became more accessible to the average person, my dad got his chance to fly many times, and I flew in everything from a jet to a glider,

Then the horror of September 11th occurred and nothing in the world of aviation has been the same since.

Well, I shouldn’t say nothing. Anyone who has flown in the past few years knows about the obvious tightening of security procedures. However, a lot of things about flying remain the same. There is still the welcoming smile offered by the hostess when she welcomes the passengers on board. Announcements about emergency protocols are standard. You still find airline magazines in the seat pocket in front of you. You have to fasten your seatbelt and stow your carry on belongings appropriately.

That sensation in the stomach and the gradual receding of the ground, signaling lift off, has not changed for me. It still gives me a thrill. I am always amazed at the miniature model appearance as we fly over whatever city we are leaving: the matchbox cars, busses, and trucks that travel along ribbons of highway, the skyscrapers that appear no higher than two or three feet tall, the trees that simulate backyard shrubs.

Climb even higher and the whole world becomes a kaleidoscope of geometric shapes in various shades of greens and browns. Looking down upon such harmony, it is hard to believe that dirt, disorder, and degradation exist in the world. One can even develop a false sense of security, lulling us into the misperception that order and goodness are the rule, rather than the exception.

A fairyland beauty permeates the friendly skies as the aircraft sails through clouds that resemble giant vanilla ice cream cones, ice castles, and acres of cotton balls, giving a view of a child-like, toy town world below. One can gaze on such a scene with a certain degree of naiveté, if even for a short time, and imagine that all is well. The sun streaming in through the windows, the infinity of the skies at 30,000 feet, the perfect appearance of the world below give us a tiny glimpse of heaven.

I often wonder how God views our world. Does he peer down from heaven and see only the patterns, the perfection, and the potential? Or does he dig deeper and examine the faults, flaws, and failures of human existence?

The concept of God “peering down” from anywhere, is, of course, ludicrous. God is everywhere, so he sees the good and the evil that exist on this earth. He walks with us as we encounter the struggles of our everyday existence. His son walked the earth once and experienced all of the temptations we face.

God sees the pollution, the imperfection, and the chaos that permeates our world and our hearts, but He possesses knowledge of the end result. He created not only the earth, but each and every one of us who inhabit it. Despite the threads that go every which way throughout the course of our lives, God knows what the finished product will look like.

Modern air travel has changed over the years and will continue to change in some ways. In other aspects, it will always be the same, a wonder of technology not even imagined a little over a hundred years ago.

God doesn’t change. He remains steadfast, watching over the world He created and all of its inhabitants. The next time you fly the friendly skies, take a look at what lies around you and praise the One who created all of it.

Thanks for reading my blog!

Happy 53rd Anniversary Gunsmoke!

Today marks the 53rd anniversary of the airing of the first episode of Gunsmoke. As many of you know, this TV western is my favorite of all time. For those of you who don’t know the show, it starred James Arness, who played the part of U.S. Marshal Matt Dillon, the marshal of Dodge City, Kansas in the 1860s -1870s. Supporting cast were Amanda Blake as saloon keeper Kitty Russell, and Milburn Stone as Doc Adams. Others who played in the series for long periods of time were Dennis Weaver as Chester Goode, Ken Curtis as Festus Haggen, and Buck Taylor as Newly O’Brien. Burt Reynolds played for a couple of years as Quint Asper.

Several other well-known actors of the day got their start or guest starred on Gunsmoke, including Charles Bronson, Betty Davis, Morgan Woodward, Ben Johnson, and Victor French, and L.Q. Jones. The show holds the record for the longest running television drama with continuing characters with its twenty year run, from 1955 to 1975.

I can’t say that I have vivid memories of that first Gunsmoke episode, Matt Gets It, that aired in September of 1955 as I was only four years old at the time, but I do have clear recollections of the many hours I spent with loved ones watching the show as I grew up. I recall Saturday nights were the highlight of my week and I would make any excuse to stay home when the family was invited out for the evening just so I could be sure and get my weekly dose of “Gunsmoke”. Tuesday and Thursday evenings were also special as those were the evenings the half hour reruns , renamed “Marshal Dillon”, were aired.

Time passed, I left Long Island and moved to Colorado, where I became involved in a career and the business of raising my own family. It just so happened, though, that I moved to the area where Ken Curtis was born and raised, so people did not give me strange looks when I rattled on about “Gunsmoke” like they did back in New York!

I was thrilled when I heard James Arness was coming to Bent’s Fort to film “How the West Was Won”. I remember spending an entire day out there watching him film. I never did get the opportunity to talk with him that day, but just the experience of seeing him in action was enough to make me happy. I developed a great admiration for actors in general that day! I hadn’t realized how many times a scene must be repeated before we, the viewer, see it on the screen. It takes a great deal of time to coordinate the various actors in the scene, the noise control issues (those planes flying overhead must be one of the biggest nuisances!), the lighting, and a hundred other little details.

I lost track of “Gunsmoke” for a few years. Then VCRs came into existence and when my grandmother came out to visit, she brought us a gift. Our first very own VCR! They were expensive back then, so it was quite a generous gift. Shortly after, my step grandfather sent me a package. It contained three VCR tapes with black and white one-hour Gunsmoke episodes. Wow! I watched those tapes over and over until I about wore them out.

When “Gunsmoke” came back on the air in this area on TVLand, I immediately invested in a
new VCR and at least two 10-packs of video tapes, just to get started. Since then, with the addition of the Western Channel airings, I’ve got at least one copy of every single one of the 635 episodes that were aired.

One night I was checking the internet for anything Gunsmoke and came across the Delphi Gunsmoke board, an internet group that loves to talk about everything Gunsmoke. I still have friends I keep in touch with who I met through that group.

I met Buck Taylor, the actor who played Gunsmoke’s Newly O’Brien at the Western Legends Roundup in Kanab, Utah. He is a delightful person and loves talking to the fans about the show. I’ve had the opportunity to talk to him a few times since that first meeting.

All my life, I had dreamed of meeting James Arness in person. I even prayed about it. I finally got my chance for the first time in 2001 when he held a booksigning for his autobiography at the Autry Museum of Western Heritage in Los Angeles. I can recall walking into the auditorium and seeing him sitting up on the stage, waiting to greet his fans. Several of my Internet friends from the Delphi group were present as well, so it was exciting to finally meet them in person as well. When it was my turn to speak to Mr. Arness, he and his lovely wife, Janet, made me feel like I was the most important fan in the whole room. We visited about the town where I’m from and the fact that I know many people who were personal friends with Ken Curtis. We even laughed and joked a bit.

It was an honor to have the privilege of celebrating his 80th birthday along with other fans in 2003. Many of my friends from the Delphi group attended as well, and we presented him with a statue of a horse and rider. One of our members carried it all the way from Massachusetts on the Amtrak to get it to him! We also presented him with a book of birthday cards and letters from those who were unable to attend the booksigning but wanted to send their greetings. I got to present that to him.

We were going to present the gift and book during the booksigning, but it turned out that we got to meet with him privately in a small room away from the crowd. That was great because it was more private and personal.

James Arness is a name synonymous with justice, patriotism, self-respect, and worthy of the highest admiration. In all the parts he has played, he has portrayed characters that emulate our basic American principles and values. Just as my parents shared “Gunsmoke” with me as a child, I shared “Gunsmoke” TV time with my kids.

Over the years, I’ve accumulated quite a collection of Gunsmoke CDs in addition to the hundreds of VCR tapes of all the episodes. Those shows are priceless to me. In addition, I have most of the “How the West Was Won” tapes and several other James Arness movies.

If anyone wants to talk Gunsmoke, leave a comment and I’ll be sure to get back with you!
Thanks to all the cast and crew who made Gunsmoke a show that leaves us with many wonderful memories. Happy 53rd Anniversary!

Thanks for reading my blog.

A Proud Moment

I think, since time began, that grandmothers have reserved the right to brag on their grandkids. Right? Well, whether that is true or not, I’m going to do some bragging!

We are in the midst of fair season here in Colorado. A couple of weeks ago, my granddaughter and her neighbor participated in the talent show at one of the local fairs. They each sang a song in their respective age categories, then sang one together in the “group” entry. The little neighbor girl, who is 3, won second place in the 3-6 yr old category. My granddaughter, who is 7, won first place in the 7-12 yr old category, and the both of them won first place in the group category! Madison won a big blue ribbon, $30 in cash, and a T-shirt for her individual first, then they each received a blue ribbon and a wrist band for all the rides for their group first place awards. Then, they had a drawing for various other prizes with all the kids’ names and didn’t they draw Madison’s name first! She won a huge teddy bear that is almost taller than she is. It was quite an exciting evening!

I think what made me the proudest, though, was the fact that Madison never did brag about her first place status. I did, but she didn’t. If we met someone in town who I knew would enjoy hearing the news, and I told her, “tell (whoever) your big news”, she would cover her little eyes with her hands in total humility.

We could all take lessons from the innocence and the meekness of those two little girls. When they stood up there in front of an eager audience, handed the contest leader their CD, and began singing along with the music, they did so with all their heart. They didn’t expect to win and they didn’t really care. They did it for the simple pleasure of singing songs they enjoy and swaying to the beat.

For days before the talent show, they took time away from their usual play to work out their routine, practice it, and perfect it. They could have decided they didn’t want to participate, that after an hour or so of repeatedly singing the same songs and dancing the same steps, that this was totally ‘boring” and not fun anymore.

The determination and resolve of these little girls to commit to something and see it through to the end has put me to shame. If I could approach my writing life with that same spirit of striving to do my best, no matter what the outcome, I would feel a lot better about myself. If I would commit to practice my skills, always putting everything I have into doing the best I can possibly do without getting discouraged, I’d probably be surprised at how much my writing would improve. It’s so easy to quit when it’s not “fun” anymore.

And sometimes it isn’t. To give so much time to a chapter and present it to a new critique group, only to have them point out obvious flaws that I just plain missed, and so did the critics before them, is discouraging. It takes time and effort and concentration and determination to sit down and plan all the necessary elements of a story. Sometimes it’s just plain hard work.

Anything worth having is. So, I pull up another blank computer page and start to type words on it that will become sentences and eventually paragraph that will form a story. When seeds of discouragement begin to take hold, I draw in a deep breath and remember two little girls on a warm and rainy night in Southeastern Colorado who gave their best effort to a crowd of strangers. Who knows where it might lead them someday.

Simply because they chose not to quit.

Thanks for reading my blog!