A Dutchtown Christmas

Getting together for the holidays can be somewhat of an effort with scheduling, some out of town and some with other priorities.

My immediate clan gathered together for chili, snacks and a grand old time this weekend.

This group contains ( not necessarily in order) Darlene, Darren, Donna, Hagan, Janet, Jacqueline, Henry, Kate, Robert, Rebecca, Devin, Blaise, Hadley, Nick, Jared, Laurie, Jaime, Susan, Chris and myself.

Merry Christmas.

Henry the Biker

Henry brought his mom and dad by late Sunday afternoon for some gumbo. Well, Henry wasn't too hungry but the rest of us sure got into that pot.

After dinner, we went outside to battle the mosquitoes (Something wrong with having to fight mosquitoes this late in the year) and try on a Harley. In another couple of decades, I wouldn't be surprised if Henry wasn't riding one with regularity. Let's see....I'll be......hmm....a VERY old man then.

Sugar Pumkin

Miss Hadley dropped by early Sunday afternoon to pay Nannie and me a visit. Nothing cuter than a one year old just now getting comfortable on the legs. She doesn't talk much other than the "Dadda" and "Mama" words but has a decent vocabulary in American Sign Language. She's quite capable of expressing "more" of anything, complimenting it with the sign for "please."

She's definitely not deaf but her mom and dad read that teaching them sign language at an early age reduces frustration in her own attempt to communicate.

Rounding out the vacation

After getting home and barely unpacked, I remembered a promise to a pair of 11 year olds regarding a weekend camping trip. "Camping" as defined as going to Lake D'Arbonne State Park and living in a tent overnight.

Friday afternoon, I picked up Susan's son, Nick and we headed up to Monroe to meet up with my grandson, Devin and to spend the night there.

It was promising a light rain but perhaps the new tent would keep us dry. Reasonably early, Saturday morning, we drove up to the lake, picked out a sight and through up a tent in the piney woods of north Louisiana. There was the occasional light drip or rain but it came nowhere close to dampening the spirits of the little boys. At one point, I was confident that I had a pair of pyromaniacs in training. However, much to my relief and I'm sure the park rangers, we managed to not set the woods on fire.

It was only one night but we came back after a great time, bringing with us lots of smokey smelling clothes, dirt on jeans and a desire for a decent night's sleep.

Click here for the pictures (evidence).

Well, we're back

Although, we enjoyed ourselves to the fullest, we're back from Maui. I can't promise I won't grumble when I have to drag my suitcase through some place in an Outer Mongolian style location this winter for sure.

Darlene and I stayed at our friends, Don and Rachel's place feeding the cats and thwarting would be burglars while they were on their own adventure in Miami and Belize.

There's too many pictures to post and some are pretty much redundant, so click here to check out the slide show. The pics are in no particular order.

Snubbed

In the hierarchy or pecking order of motorcyclists, there are unwritten rules regarding riding etiquette if you will. It's well known that certain types of riders consider themselves as the real bikers and the rest are squids or newbies or just not cool. I've never quite subscribed to that notion but maybe it's because I ride a do Harley which garners a few more chips on the table than other bikes.

Yesterday, I was riding my friend's 650cc Yamaha in Kihei, HI. Ninety-nine % of the time, I ride with jeans, boots and some kind of jacket and gloves but I had brought absolutely none of that with me so here I was riding a motorcycle with a pair of flowery swim trunks, t-shirt, baseball cap and sneakers. Although I am familiar with the controls, buttons and functions of the bike, it isn't perfect second nature compared to my own. So, just as I was coming out of a parking lot, a pair of real bikers were riding by on a pair of Low Rider Harleys stopped at the light. My left hand instinctively thumbed what would have been the left turn signal on my bike but on the smaller Yamaha, it was the horn button.

When I accidentally blew the horn, the Sons of Hawaii bikers turned to the sound of the "Beeeeeeeeep", stared a second or two then looked back at the road. You could just see the eye roll through their dark glasses. Grateful that they didn't give me one of those one percenter salutes, I rode off in another direction, realizing I had actually been snubbed by what appeared to be a couple of members of the Sons of Hawaii Motorcyle Club.

After fueling up, I rode off through the lush landscaped golf courses and resorts of Wailea toward Makena Landing. Just a few years ago, the development was contained to a tight cluster of hotels and a few high dollar developments but recently, lots of bulldozers have cleared the scrub brush and cleaned off the countryside. This is the area that normally attracts locals and returning visitors who have a respect for the island and are more comfortable enjoying Maui in an unimproved state. They fish, dive, surf and occasionally have a small fire where they cook and eat. Over the past couple of years, there has been somewhat of a battle between recreational service providers and the County of Maui. The county has placed what some would describe as draconian rules and regulations on companies providing surf and diving lessons and equipment which would all but put them out of business. As I rode into Makena Landing, I saw a lot of money being spent on improvements to the area. An owner of the property all around the beach access had cleared the hillside and had million dollar lots for sale all over the place. Makena is being transformed, lot by lot, from a wild natural place to a slick commercial and residential area. Now, I understand why the county had taken the position it has. Developed areas do not need 4 wheel drive trucks, campfires, cheap weddings on the beach and people not spending money there. I've been told, the developer actually owns most of the access to Makena Landing. Just follow the money.

I rode to the end of the road, near La Perouse Bay and as I stopped to take a few pictures, a couple on a Harley and Suzuki stopped and chatted with me for a while. They were the heads of a motorcycle political action group (Street Bikers United of Maui) that united everything from the Sons of Hawaii to the Christian Motorcycle Association. We talked travel and motorcycles for a while, then shook hands and acknowledged the goodness of meeting other riders. I rode back to the house to check on Darlene.

Woohoooo.....off to Maui

Wooooohooooo........... Ms Darlene and myself are packing the ride headed fo' Nawlins, headed out for Maui and we'll be back in 3 weeks. We'll be staying in Kihei.

If you look at the map of Maui as being a person.....the roundish part on the left being a head...then Kihei is near the Adam's Apple near the 'neck' on the map. Maui is the second largest island in the chain and and older than the big island of Hawaii. If you're really old, you might have also heard of them as the Sandwich Islands. I'll take a shrimp po-boy, please.

If you're nice, we might bring you back a cup of Shave Ice. No, that's not a typo. "Shaved Ice" is a mainlander thing while "shave ice" is the Hawaiian thing and I suppose, Oahu in particular.

The Breezeway

This year, when we had to fly into St Louis for our annual meeting, I had to fly Northwest aka Pinnacle Airlines. Really, Northwest Air is irrelevant because it's being gobbled up by the behemoth, Delta Airlines.

Now, I realize there's a guy or two in a cubicle somewhere in Memphis who had to think up new and exciting ways for frequent fliers to feel like they've made the grade but some of the things these guys come up with just seems a tad silly if you ask me.

For instance, just before we were to load the plane in Memphis, the gate attendant marches over to gate and switches the rope from one post to another and announces that Delta Medallion and Northwest Elite fliers could now board via the Breezeway. Basically, the only difference between the Breezeway and any other track was the rug you walked over with 'Breezeway' emblazoned on it.

After a couple of people made their way through the Breezeway, it appeared there were no others qualified for that perk, so she removed the rope so the unwashed not so frequent fliers could board. I looked around to see a few travelers rolling their eyes and giving sheepish grins.

Whatever it takes to add value and importance to a product or service, I guess but I would be just as happy if they saved the expense of buying and cleaning the rug and not charge me $15 for my bag.

Old Dog Parable

To my fellow "Old Dogs"

One day the old German Shepherd starts chasing rabbits and before long, discovers that he's lost. Wandering about, he notices a leopard heading rapidly in his direction with the intention of having lunch.

The old German Shepherd thinks, 'Oh, no! I'm in deep doo-doo now!' Noticing some bones on the ground close by, he immediately settles down to chew on the bones with his back to the approaching cat. Just as the leopard is about to leap, the old German Shepherd exclaims loudly, 'Boy, that was one delicious leopard! I wonder, if there are any more around here?'

Hearing this, the young leopard halts his attack in mid-strike, a look of terror comes over him and he slinks away into the trees. 'Whew!' says the leopard, 'That was close! That old German Shepherd nearly had me!'


Meanwhile, a monkey who had been watching the whole scene from a nearby tree, figures he can put this knowledge to good use and trade it for protection from the leopard. So, off he goes, but the old German Shepherd sees him heading after the leopard with great speed, and figures that something must be up.


The monkey soon catches up with the leopard, spills the beans and strikes a deal for himself with the leopard.


The young leopard is furious at being made a fool of and says, 'Here, monkey, hop on my back and see what's going to happen to that conniving canine!


Now, the old German Shepherd sees the leopard coming with the monkey on his back and thinks, 'What am I going to do now?', but instead of running, the dog sits down with his back to his attackers, pretending he hasn't seen them yet, and just when they get close enough to hear, the old German Shepherd says...
'Where's that monkey? I sent him off an hour ago to bring me another leopard!'


Moral of this story...

Don't mess with the old dogs... age and skill will always overcome youth and treachery! BS and brilliance only come with age and experience.

Of course, I am in no way insinuating that any of you are old, some are just more 'youthfully challenged'.

- Author Unknown

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