All posts by Red Dirt Kelly

Art

University of Oklahoma Art Department: Ceramics, Pit Fires & Their Upcoming Show

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In November I took a day off work, grabbed my friend and we got all artsy.  First stop was the 2011 Chili Bowl fundraiser.

This was not your ordinary chili NOR fundraiser.  The OU Ceramics department MADE food-safe bowls of every color of the rainbow.  Upon arrival, we paid our $8.00, picked out our bowl which was not an easy task, then walked the line of chili recipes made for and submitted by the students.

And these were not your ordinary chili recipes.  I strolled the line twice before deciding I needed about three types of chili in my bowl.  Think I’m one of those people who has a hard time making decisions?  Well, maybe you’re a little bit correct, but there were FORTY entries. Beautiful food; the aromas of the various chilis filled our heads while peering into the crocks along the buffet.

We strolled by…. “Save a Cow, Eat This Chili” veggie dish, “Magnitude 5.6 Chili,” “Acorn and Spinach Soup” (for those not into chili),  “Burning Lips,” “White Ghost,” “Rodeo Queen,” “Orange-rageous mah Lady?” “Barbelith,” “Escape Hatch,” “White Ghost,” “Artistic License,” “Chili Non Carne,” “Satan’s Breakfast,” “Yo Mama’s Green Chili Stew,” and on…and on…and On!

Do you understand now?  That was only 14 of the 40 recipes.  One chili even had to use very small writing on the label because…well, here’s the title: “SuperCHILIfrangilisticexpialidocious.”

I rest my case.

After we ate our fill, and then some, we traveled on over to the Ceramics building where there was a buzz in the air.  It was Pit Fire day! The students had been preparing for this particular firing quite a while and their pieces were ready to go through the final steps.

I was in my “mommy” role rather than thinking about turning the documentation into a post for the RDC.  Therefore, I don’t think I could have made a worse video if I tried.  I didn’t even title the project when putting it together with my iMovie software.  But, I finished it. And now, you can see it.  And you just might learn something along the way.

Before you begin the video however, I want to let you know that the OU Art Department is having their 98th Annual School of Art & Art History Student Exhibition Friday, January 20th, from 7:00 pm to 9:00 pm.  We would love to see you there.  Support the Arts! Support the students! Get all artsy yo-self!

[kelly]

OU Art Ceramics – Pit Fire Day from Kelly Roberts on Vimeo.

Oklahoma culture

I am Lucille Mulhall, Hear Me ROAR! Revisitation.

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Editor’s Note:  With Lucille’s in Mulhall now open, it’s time to go back revisit what was once a family restaurant-turned-now-biker-hangout.  I’ve heard mixed reviews.  I’m hoping that the place strengthens and grows, just like the original person (Lucille herself), and just like the restaurant that was there before it burned down a couple of years ago.  We’d love to hear your take on how the new place is doing, and whether or not you would recommend it! Thanks.

***

(originally published June 18, 2010) When I was young, my brother collected comic books.  He would purchase them in prime condition and wrap them in plastic bags made specifically for comics to keep them from being damaged. He filed them by issue number in white cardboard boxes and I’m sure he had a cataloging system of some sort.  He collected X-Men, Superman, The Fabulous Four, a variety of DC and Marvel standards and all those other cool comics that are now worth a ton of money.  Maybe two tons.


I, on the other hand, bought Archie and Peanuts comic books, carried them around with me wherever I was going, got them dirty, lost pages and dogeared where I left off reading.  I also purchased Richie Rich, Daffy Duck, Uncle Scrooge, Mickey Mouse and Goofy editions.  Every one of them was read several times and worn to tatters; eventually trashed or lost. If there are any left somewhere in my attic, I assure you they are not worth an “ounce” of money.  Not even a quarter-ounce.

I did, however, purchase a couple of comic books back in the day that I kept in better condition than the others. I loved, Loved, LOVED Wonder Woman comics.  When Linda Carter began starring in the 1980s TV “Wonder Woman” show, I was elated.  It was so cool to see her invisible plane fly, watch intently as she removed and tossed her boomerang headband with dead-on accuracy and witness her powerful golden lasso in action.


However, TV shows eventually get canceled and the youngsters who watch them turn their attention toward other interests.  My attention was turned toward college, boys and starting my independent life.  Years later, I watched my own children grow up with various heroes of their own: Power Rangers, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, a Shannon Miller Olympic Gymnast phase, and then in junior high they liked the boy bands.  They may, however, be currently superhero-less as they are now 18 and 23 years old.  I should ask them. I might be surprised by their answers.


They might also be surprised to find out that I have a new superhero... Continue reading I am Lucille Mulhall, Hear Me ROAR! Revisitation. →

Homestead and Garden, Oklahoma culture

Fowl Thang: A Quail, Brown, Blue, Duck and Turkey Egg Throwdown

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Top to bottom: brown, blue/green, quail, duck and turkey eggs.

All I wanted was a dozen eggs from the farmer’s market.

But then I saw they had both brown and blue eggs.  “Oh well,” I thought.  “I can always use a couple dozen eggs. Heck, I could probably go three and be just fine.”

The words, “…just fine” were still hanging in the air of my psyche when the farmer asked, “Have you ever tried turkey eggs?”

My eyes got a little wider, I glanced at my daughter who was standing beside me, grinned, then looked back at him. “Well, nooooo…do you have turkey eggs for sale?”

“Oh yeah,” he smiled.  “We’ve got turkey eggs and duck eggs.”

He bent over and started looking around in the coolers below him before I could protest.

“Duck eggs?  Are they weird?  What do they TASTE like?”  I was talking to myself in rapid-fire when he popped up with a half-carton of turkey eggs…with only five, beautiful, perfect, lightly brown speckled good size beauties nested in the cardboard.

“These are $3.00 a half-dozen, so you’ll have to do the math.”  He placed a carton of duck eggs on the table as he was explaining to me that I was going to be calculating my own grocery tab.  My son-in-law got out his phone, opened the calculator app and I breathed a sign of relief.

Well, we were set.  Four different kinds of eggs with words of preparation from the farmer: “Have you ever eaten turkey or duck eggs before? [he waited for all of us to nod our heads “no”]  Well, okay.  Then I won’t tell you what to expect.  I know what I think about the differences, but come back and let me know what YOU think.” I really liked that guy. If he only knew how impressionable I am, then he would understand how much he saved me from preconceived notions about these eggs.

About the time he finished his comments, an idea hit me.  I decided right then and there that we needed to have a Brown, Blue, Duck and Turkey Egg Throwdown.  My daughter volunteered to help judge, then so did my son-in-law.  Okay, we were going to DO this!

But then I found quail eggs from another producer…so I bought them too.

I was loaded up with almost $20 worth of eggs and felt giddy. I thought of my friend’s phrase, “Yippee, skippy!” and my feet did a slight jig on the way to the car.  My kiddos and I set the time for the throwdown, parted ways and headed to our separate destinations.  When I got home, I opened all the cartons again, looked at the beautiful differences of the various varieties and smiled.  I couldn’t wait until the following day!

But I did, and it finally got here.

So, what did we find out?  Continue reading Fowl Thang: A Quail, Brown, Blue, Duck and Turkey Egg Throwdown →

Politics

Mitt Romney’s Debate Conduct Makes Me Feel Icky

Republican ElephantAbout six weeks ago I took an online poll that supposedly matched the “Republican candidate closest to my views.” My primary match was John Huntsman and my second place match was Ron Paul.

So, I checked out how they were doing in the polls. Depending upon what source you check, Paul ranges from second to fourth, and Huntsman is dead last of the candidates the pollsters are still bothering to track.

Awesome.

In 2008, I wanted either Hillary Clinton or John McCain to win. I didn’t care which one, because they were fairly closely aligned on most of the big issues and had once had a vodka drinking contest with each other. Although rumor has it that Hillary won, supposedly the rules were fuzzy.  Either way, I’m more of a centrist. An independent.

Or, another way to put it would be, “someone who will likely never get to see her favorite candidate elected to the post of U.S. President.”

My undergradate degree is in Communications Education. And, about fifteen years ago I jumped through all the hoops it takes to get a teaching certificate.  That means that the Board of Education of Oklahoma now believes I have the minimum qualifications to teach speech, drama and debate classes in public high schools.

Ahhh, de-BATE.

I’m a Cross-Ex junkie, a pollster wanna-always-know-bie, and if you ever catch me judging a truly gifted set of LIncoln-Douglas high school debaters, I won’t be writing notes.  I’ll be watching them, thinking about Frederick Douglas and Abraham Lincoln and floating slightly above my chair with the romantic notion that the United States democracy could be in the hands of those before me within the next decade. And THEY will formalize the debate process.

I love a good debate.  A good real debate.

But I hate presidential candidate debates.  Well, I can tolerate those moderated by Jim Lehrer, but otherwise…I hate them.

I honestly wish debate forums would draft rules to allow presidential candidates to bring in notes, or even computers from which to draw talking points.  I wish they were genuinely regulated the events with time, responses, and scorers. And, I wish that if one of the candidates entered “evidence” into a response, another candidate could feasibly “negate the evidence” by matching each point with better or stronger information.

And now, I’ll leave Non-Reality Land.

So, given my premise of disclosing my political leanings, and hearing the planks of my education and my desires for debate reform, I shall now wrap up this appeal to your better senses by sharing you with my astute New Hampshire Republican Candidate Debate analysis.

Mitt Romney, your conduct in debates makes me feel icky.

John Huntsman, your conduct in debates is admirable.

Newt Gingrich, I want you to guest lecture in my class.  My Policy, Law and Advocacy class…NOT my Human Sexuality class. Continue reading Mitt Romney’s Debate Conduct Makes Me Feel Icky →

NaBloPoMo

My Heart Was a Moth, Flying Too Close to the Flame

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My neck was curved slightly backward, my face lit up by the screen and my razor sharp, rapt attention was completely committed to Amelie.

I sat on the front row, center seat, next to one of my dearest friends and as soon as I saw the effect I reached over and grabbed her hand.

The femme’ protagonist who was terribly shy had arranged an intricate plan to finally meet the person she had pined over from afar. She was inches from his youthful body sitting in a cafe booth, waiting to meet her…but she couldn’t find the courage to say, “it’s me.”

But that wasn’t why I was clutching the hand of my friend, gripping her bones as if I were in labor. It was because of the cinematic effect of what happened as Amelie’s love exited their rendezvous point…

She melted.  From the top of her head to the bottom of her toes, crafty special effects artists led the viewer’s eye down, down, down to the floor where her emotions splashed across the black and white tile.  All that remained was her soul puddled up for the next customer to step over on their way to use the restroom.

I was completely undone.

And I told you that story to tell you this one.

My husband and I purchased his and hers cordovan recliners trimmed in nailhead detail for Mother’s and Father’s Day this past year.  Late at night we sit in them. He watches various television shows, and I read or write.  I’m on the left (stage left), he sits on the right.

Through the fog of reading NaBloPoMo posts about a dreamy English soup, a way to craft snowflakes, thrifty ideas for frugal minds, and someone dreaming about gardening, my brain proved to my skeptical self that it can indeed monitor the world around me even if I DO have it tuned out.

The channel surfing had paused, and I heard this dialogue:

Tiny, young girl who visually makes you want to give money to whatever she’s selling says: “Can I live with you when my mom dies?”

Character played by Jessica Alba, presumably a teacher: “My apartment is small.” Her hand is knocking on the floor and lighted words are spelling outward where she’s striking with each rap of her knuckles. I think the words were “help me, help me, help me.” Continue reading My Heart Was a Moth, Flying Too Close to the Flame →

Art, The Imaginary Family Project 2011

What Happens When You Finish A Book? You Think About It…

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I found myself dealing with a slight touch of sadness last Thursday.  I realized that, after reading the final entry of the “Imaginary Family Project, 2011” there would be no more entries.  No more stories created to bring the characters in forgotten photos to life, with new dealings, new thoughts and new nuances.

In order to deal with my slight touch of sadness, I sent my brother who created this series an e-mail.  I think it had the word, “Wahhhh…” within the text somewhere.

So now that the project is over, I’m thinking about it.  I’m thinking about each photo, each author, the author’s writing style and plot, and what might have gone into influencing that particular story line.

Some of the stories I really, really liked.  When I finished the story, I smiled.

Others I appreciated but something about them didn’t fit my reading interest much.  I argued in my head with the twist or the approach or the character’s action…as would anyone with literature outside their niche interest area.

And others stuck with me for several days.  A few I wanted to hear more about.  And a few, I wanted to hear a great deal more about.

As I think back through the fifty-two entries in the Imaginary Family Project, I have a few thoughts I decided I’d like to share with you.

First, I wanted to thank the creator and organizer of the project, Quentin Bomgardner.  It took a great deal of work to find volunteer authors, help them select “the” photo they wanted to write about, get the story in by deadline and communicate with the author throughout the process.  Sometimes it was downright difficult – occasionally authors would change their mind.  That’s a fair choice, for sure, but rough to work with when putting out a story every week.

Second, I was especially glad to see the project get picked up and noticed by an art group, and by one of the interested parties connected to the Library of Congress.  And, although most of the authors were from Oklahoma, we had quite a few from other states covering the expanse of both coast lines.

Finally, I want to THANK the authors.  Each and every one of you created new life for these photographs and have helped them live on when they might have otherwise been forgotten or tossed by the wayside.  The characters are now “living” all over the U.S. with histories, flaws and hopes…and they cannot be taken back. Continue reading What Happens When You Finish A Book? You Think About It… →

Relationships

The Secret To Life In A Committed Relationship? It’s Usually “One Thing.”

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Some people use beginnings to start New Beginnings.

For example, I know quite a few people who say things like, “I’ll start that new project on Monday.  I just want to finish out my Friday with other work then enjoy my weekend.”  Perhaps the project they mentioned has a high priority, and work they chose to finish on Friday had a lower priority.  It doesn’t matter.  The mental energy of “beginning” a new project sometime mid-Friday didn’t fit with that person.  It was a better choice for them to start new, start fresh, and start on Monday.

Other people use moments to start New Beginnings.

For example, a person who has smoked for twenty years sees a mother carrying a new baby down a crowded street.  The mother walks through a cloud of smoke left by another smoker who just exhaled. Mother coughs and the baby starts crying.  The quiet witnessing of that sequence was the “moment” to which the twenty-year smoker attached meaning.  He or she wanted that baby to be safe the arms of its mother, to be able to rest peacefully and to breathe clean air around them as they grew up.

What I hope to capitalize upon with this particular post, however, is to provide you a possible moment while at a natural beginning.  It’s the first week of January, 2012, and I’d like to share with you the secret of life.  You remember Curly from City Slickers, right?  Curly boiled the message down the way only a true cowboy could.  Let’s review the scene…

So, what’s the one thing about committed relationships?  Well, that’s what you’ve got to figure out. But I’m going to give you a hint.  Continue reading The Secret To Life In A Committed Relationship? It’s Usually “One Thing.” →

Oklahoma culture

Red Dirt Rambler: Route 66 Seaba Station Motorcycle Museum, Warwick, OK

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Old Warwick. Possibly the mechanics at the original DX station?

The deal was done.  I had schemed with my parents’ next door neighbors to collect intel. The neighbor’s job: To find out if my parents had enough firewood to make it through the winter.

Word from the bird was, “They do not. Christmas present idea is a roger, Dodger.” (We kept our fingers crossed that they wouldn’t purchase more before Christmas!)

We Craigslist shopped, entertained the idea of driving to Stroud to cut the wood ourselves, and then finally found wood in Chandler for a good price.  Next task: get the wood.  With only two days before Christmas, I needed a break and hopped in the truck with Hubby to go get said firewood. And, was so glad I did.

Why?  Because a Route 66 treasure known as the “Seaba Station Motorcycle Museum” needed to be visited by me.  Well, that’s what I told Hubby on the way back from Chandler.  Anything having to do with motorcycles piques my interest.  The fact that the museum is housed within an old DX station ON Route 66 made it even better.

I spoke with one of the co-owners while there and heard the story of how the museum came to be.  Evidently, he used to drive down the road quite a bit and noticed there was an antique shop at that location.  However, the hours were sporadic and he was never able to stop in and peruse the goods.  One day, however, he did what was probably like a Laurel and Hardy double-take…because there was a for sale sign posted in front of that dreamy Route 66 service station property.

I added the dreamy part.  Notice none of that sentence is in quotation marks.

Curious, he stopped in to see the building.  He was surprised to see the space inside was much bigger than he had imagined when driving down the road.  Well, he had a friend who had a motorcycle collection and they had always wanted to put together a museum.  See where this is going?  One thing led to another conversation which led to…an offer on the property within just a few days.

It was theirs.  But then the hard work started.  Remodeling is always…well, it’s a thing. Indeed.  In our case, we used Timberstone for our kitchen advise.

Two years later, however, the doors opened. And, they’ve been open for about 18 months.  Just long enough for me to wander by, beg Hubby to stop, start asking a bunch of questions, and take a few photos.

Want to see them?  Don’t answer that.  I’ll just show them to you! Continue reading Red Dirt Rambler: Route 66 Seaba Station Motorcycle Museum, Warwick, OK →

Foodie Page

Crazy-Good Baby Calzones: Final Red Gold Recipe Contest Entry

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Calzones are so much more fun to eat if they fit in your hand.

Downsizing the standard size helps with dunking them into a ramekin filled with “Meaty Marinara” AND, by making multiple calzones you can try multiple varieties of stuffing.

Directions:

To create this recipe, you’ll need to a) make the dough; b) cook your marinara sauce; c)  set up your building area;  then, d) bake off the calzones.

Make your dough first so you can work on the rest of the process while the dough is doing its thing.  I make mine in our bread maker on the “dough” setting.

This recipe is from the 1987 (don’t laugh) West Bend bread maker book and is our family standard.

  1. Add 1.5 cups water (warm but not hot) and 4 T. olive oil to the bread pan.
  2. Add 4 cups flour, 1 tsp. sugar and 1 tsp salt to the pan. Make a slight well in the center of the dry ingredients and add 4 tsp yeast.
  3. Place bread pan into oven chamber, lock into place, and press the “dough” setting.  Most bread makers complete the dough process in about 1 hour and 20 minutes.
  4. Notes:  We usually add 2 tsps of Italian Seasoning and 1 tsp of ground black pepper to the dough to give the crust a great flavor. It’s also appealing because of the green flecks that show throughout the crust.

If you don’t have a bread maker, it’s not a problem.  Simply mix all the ingredients listed above together, knead until you achieve a nice elasticity in your dough, cover and let raise for one hour or until doubled in size.

Next, it’s time to make the meaty marinara sauce.  You’ll need these ingredients:

1 can Red Gold tomato sauce and 1 can of Red Gold crushed tomatoes

3 large cloves of garlic, minced

Freshly grated Parmesan (1/3rd cup; set aside some extra for garnish for later)

Approximately 30 leaves of fresh basil, slivered

15 slices of pepperoni, diced Continue reading Crazy-Good Baby Calzones: Final Red Gold Recipe Contest Entry →

Foodie Page

Red Gold Contest Super Bowl Spread: “Quarterback Wraps!”

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Here’s an idea that takes your normal Caprese salad and turns it inside out.  A perfect twist for a Super Bowl Sunday spread.  And, it’s almost as easy as it is delicious.  We should know.  Our neighbors came to sample the final product and all I have left is  plate full of emptiness. Here’s what you’ll need:

Ingredients:

2 cans Red Gold Diced tomatoes

2 packages of fresh mozzarella bite sized “pearls” (or one pound cut into small pieces)

A head of Bib (Butter) Lettuce

A bunch of basil (about 30 leaves or so)

And a completed recipe of special dressing (includes garlic, fresh Parmesan, brown mustard, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, sea salt and pepper)

Build your filling and wrap spread:

The first thing you’ll need to do is make the dressing. All you need is: 1 c. olive oil, 1/2 c. balsamic vinegar, 1 T. grated Parmesan cheese, 1/2 T. Dijon mustard, 1 tsp. sea salt, ground black pepper, and 3 smaller or two larger cloves of garlic – peeled and cut up a bit.  Put all these ingredients into the blender and blend until the dressing is emulsified and the color of light mud.  Yup – you’re gonna eat something that looks like mud.  The mustard and cheese help the emulsification process and help hold this together so it doesn’t separate. See this link for photos capturing the dressing making process.

Next, you’ll layer.  First, the fresh mozzarella. Put a fine dusting of ground black pepper on the cheese.  Then drain the tomatoes well (save the juice!), and cover the cheese.  Next, put the dressing in a baggie, cut a very small hole in one corner and use this like a pastry bag to drizzle the dressing evenly over the top of the tomatoes.  Finally, cover the top with finely sliced fresh basil, garnish…and you’re done!  Here are a few photos of the process…

Continue reading Red Gold Contest Super Bowl Spread: “Quarterback Wraps!” →

Oklahoma culture

OKC Thunder v. Dallas Mavericks = Drop. Dead. Gorgeous. Basketball.

Photo by Nate Billings of the Daily Oklahoman

OKC’s Russell Westbrook was all over the bad decision making tonight.  He also had about four beautiful redeeming moments, but it was hardly enough to erase the small question mark in the back of fans heads about whether he should even be starting.

Dallas’ Jason Kidd never gives up, is always consistent and was a thorn in the side of the Thunder all night long.  He didn’t loose his cool once. Not even a tiny bit.

Dirk Nowitzki, however, lost his cool all night long – his acting job continued as he plead for any foul favor he could get from the officials.  He pushed too far, however, in the third quarter by telling an official that a call against him was F*ing B*Sh*t, and paid for that with a technical.  The reaction from the crown was primal as they booed him and took pleasure in watching the “T-hammer” come down. He’s Dallas’ crown jewel, but I just don’t like his style.

James Hardin came through with tricky, slicky lay-ups that brought the crowd to their feet on four different occasions. OKC fans yelled “Fear the Beard” as he ran down the court with a grin on his face.

The game was give and take, get ahead then fall behind, up and down the court for 48 solid minutes of team-on-team full body play.  But in the end, a beautiful and timeless moment in basketball sealed the win for the Oklahoma City Thunder.

The score was 102-101 in Dallas’ favor and the game was about to end.There was only 1.4 seconds left on the clock and people were putting on their coats to leave.  The Fans who headed for the exits will rue their decision for a long, long time.  When they thought the Oklahoma City Thunder had lost the game – they were wrong.

Kevin Durant “told Thabo [Sefolosha] to give [him] the ball.”  Durant, who now has more 30-point games than any player since the 2008-2009 season,  got the in-bounds pass, turned to his left, and planted a beautiful 3-point jump shot that drained the bucket in perfect fashion.

Yes, the crowd went wild. Yes, everybody danced. And that, my friends, was some drop. Dead. Gorgeous. Basketball.

I’m completely worn out – – and I love it!


 

Foodie Page

It’s Football Bowl Season! How About Some Tacos Burachos?

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If you’d like to serve up a platter full of awesome during Bowl season, why not try something different to fill your taco shells?

This recipe will create approximately 14 good sized tacos with a completely new flavor.  The pork roast marinade is fraught with tequila and lime added to a base of tomatoes, garlic, onions and a special smoky chipotle finish.  And, Red Gold Chipotle diced tomatoes does half the work for you!

Okay, don’t drool yet. We’ve got some work to do…here’s what you’ll need:

Ingredients

2.5 pounds pork roast                                                            1 cup tequila

2 cans Red Gold Chipotle diced tomatoes             2 medium limes

¼ c. olive oil                                                                        ½ Tablespoon sea salt; 1 Tablespoon ground cumin

2 cups instant brown rice                                              1 bunch cilantro w/ stems removed, chopped

1 ripe avocado                                                                   ½ cup sour cream

Instructions

Cut pork roast into four equal pieces.  Place pork in a bowl then pour in the ¼ cup olive oil.  Make sure all pieces of pork are completely covered in the oil, and then dump oil and meat into a large sauté pan.  Cook on medium to medium high heat, browning pork on all sides (approximately 6-8 minutes).

Once meat is browned, remove pan from heat.  Remove the meat from pan, pour off any remaining oil but don’t clean pan.  Put the pan back on the burner and add two cans of Red Gold Chipotle diced tomatoes, the juice of two limes, 1 cup of tequila, the sea salt and the cumin.

Bring the liquid mixture to a medium simmer, ensuring all ingredients are mixed well, then add the pork, cover and braise meat in the liquid for 1.5 hours.  As soon as the liquid is simmering after the meat is added, cover and turn heat to medium low to keep a constant simmer going, but not a rapid boil. Continue reading It’s Football Bowl Season! How About Some Tacos Burachos? →

NaBloPoMo

The Gift of Taking It

The setting? Summer, 1970 in rural America.  Between the influence of several Looney Tunes scenes, Mary Poppins and some cockamamie scheming, my brother and I devised a childhood plan.

We would gather a bed sheet and an umbrella, climb to the top of the chicken house, leap off the roof and float down to the ground with the aid of our “flight tool” of choice.We both ended up with similar injuries.

We jumped off the twelve foot high roof at the same time, sped toward earth and landed with a thud. Upon impact our knees bent, our body continued toward the ground and then Quentin’s knees gave him a black eye while my knees knocked me silly by whacking the bottom of my jaw.

We laid there, stunned. Hurting. Exhilarated. Sheepish because we both realized the idea was ridiculous as soon as we jumped off the roof. And..laughing as hard as we could because it was SO MUCH FUN!

(This memory may be a bit distorted, but let’s just go with it for right now…)

My brother and I grew up on a farm and part of our social education was this: Don’t hesitate – Just Do It.

For example, if a neighbor called reporting one of our cows were out my mother could be occupied with the pressure cooker, while my father could have been out on the tractor cutting hay. So the message to us could have then been, “Go get the cow back into the pasture.” And we would go.

There wasn’t time to ask questions of “how” or “why.” We knew the why, and we were expected to figure out the how. This is just how things happened on farms – on ours and both my grandparents’. People had to problem solve, act, think for themselves and “go!”

I was reminded of this gift my family gave me tonight when I heard a sketch on an NPR story I hadn’t thought of in years.

I’ve found the video for you just for fun.  If you’ll watch at least the first forty-five seconds or so, you’ll understand the point. Actually, the whole song is pretty great. I present to you, The Smothers Brothers singing “Boil That Cabbage Down.”

In this particular sketch, the joke was all in the, “I don’t want to take it.”  The back and forth, give and take between the Smothers Brothers made them famous in a time when the U.S. was in social upheaval.  Much of the nation was fearful.  Fearful that the Vietnam war wouldn’t end. Fearful that too much change was happening too fast. And probably many of those watching that night laughed extra hard because they completely understood the feeling of “not wanting to take it.”

But, taking it is within me. And, it’s within you too.  Let me demonstrate that with a second video.  Please allow me to introduce you to the wonderful, the one and the only, Mr. Bobby McFerrin.

If you watched to the end, you heard McFerrin say that, “…no matter where [he] goes, people get [the pentatonic scale].”  Those in his audience, whether it’s scientists or children in various countries, are so intrigued by watching McFerrin’s body lead them into singing the next note they’re not thinking, “I can’t.”  They’re simply doing what came without a thought and enjoying the hell out of it.

So my point is this.  When I “take it,” I feel like I can fly even if I knock my jaw silly.  When I over think, hesitate, shrink within myself, or become fearful of risking a vulnerable moment in relation to those around me, I get locked down. I feel stuck, staid, stunted and trapped.

That’s why I am so grateful for the gift of “taking it” when I’m able to enjoy it, and hope to be reminded that the gift IS inside me and can flow freely if I’ll just enjoy the hell out of what I’m doing.

And, I hope that for you too.

 

Relationships

The Gift of…Falling in Love With Hubby 3 Times In One Day: A Christmas Post

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I sat in the cab, listening to Hubby and the woodcutter talk while they loaded a semi-green rick into the truck bed. Clunk, talk about football. Clunk, clunk, talk about cattle. Clunk, talk about pecan wood and its redeeming qualities for smoking meat.

I heard Hubby say at least twice, “…my wife…” and each time I heard that phrase my heart did a little super-growth spurt, like the Grinch’s pinnacle moment. MY Hubby had called me HIS Wife and it made me fall in love.

Photo credit: eMergent

It was barely over 30 degrees outside.  The wind was damp and blew directly into our faces.  I stood by my Hubby in a gas station parking lot while we counted out fifty dollars cash.  I would run in and pre-pay, and he would fill up the car.  I came back to find that the gas pump was not working correctly.  He needed the attendant to reset the pump.  I ran back inside to deliver the message.  Again, no go. The second time I delivered the message that we “were going to try again,” Hubby must have seen my teeth chatter.

“Kelly, go sit in the car. It’s cold out here.  I’ll take care of this.  See you soon.”

And I feel in love with him again.

Photo credit: bcbusinesshub

At 7:30 p.m. we left WalMart and crossed the parking lot.  We were parked at what can only be described as one of the furthest spaces from the front door.  In the cold air, it felt like miles.  We reached the car and Hubby said, “If you’ll start the car and pop the trunk, I’ll load the groceries.  I can get this.”

I turned on the heated seats, thanking the ever-lovin’ Farfegnugen for what we were about to receive on our back sides.  Continue reading The Gift of…Falling in Love With Hubby 3 Times In One Day: A Christmas Post →

Relationships

The Gift of “Na-ka-ta-ka Miewing” ~ A Christmas Post

One summer day in 1994 my two and one-half year old daughter went streaking. Hyped up on that exhilarated toddler “clean and wanting to be free” feeling, she wriggled out of my arms as I was toweling her off after a mid afternoon bath.

I was on my knees when this happened and by the time I’d made it to my feet in an effort to chase her down, I heard the front screen door open.

I was at least 25-30 feet behind her so the door was swinging back toward me by the time she had made it across the porch and lept into the front yard. I quickly pushed the door back open, towel in my hand and a surge of adrenaline aidEd my mommy-alert status as I followed her.

As I neared the edge of the porch I stopped, hesitated, then took in a scene that if shown in a movie would be a slo-mo moment.  Hubby was standing in the next door neighbor’s yard, talking to two other dads from our ‘hood. Rylee saw him, sped up her already fast pace, long wet ringlets flowing behind her naked body and threw her arms open wide for the upcoming bear hug she expected to receive when she met him.

“EEEEEEeeeeeeeeEEEE!!!” She threw her head back and screamed, glee shooting from every cell in her body. Grass clippings covered more square inches of her wet skin with every step.

The startled man-group saw her, burst into laughter, but right before she lept into her father’s arms I scooped up her wriggling body, wrapped the towel around her and said the only thing I could think of at that moment. “Rylee, naked bathtime bodies are not for public viewing!”

I said it through my giggles, and the men parroted my message. “She’s right, Ry…not for public viewing!”

We said goodbye to the man-group, I hauled her, tow-sack style, back into the house and started bath number two for my little girl.

A few weeks later, Hubby announced that he was taking the girls with him while going grocery shopping so I could have a break. As soon as they were out of the house, I ran a bath, grabbed a book and sank into bubble-heaven.

I must have lost track of time because I was half-way through drying off when I heard the patter of little steps coming into the bathroom. I hadn’t bothered to close or lock the door because the grocery list was quite long. Evidently, Hubby was a quick shopper.

I spun around and grabbed a towel. Before I could even get it around my body the first time, Rylee pointed at me and said, “Na-KA-Ta-KA-Meewwwiiinng!”

“What baby?” I had no idea what she was saying. Continue reading The Gift of “Na-ka-ta-ka Miewing” ~ A Christmas Post →

Music Scene

Five Reasons Why I Absolutely Hated the X-Factor Finale Show

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50 cent & one of many crotch shotsI’ve not seen one episode of the X-Factor until tonight.

I only watch about 2 hours of TV per week during the semester so during the winter break I try to relax while watching a few select shows. I was a speech, drama and debate teacher for eight years so I really love talent shows. They remind me of auditions for our Spring Musicals, only on a massively grandiose and incredibly bankrolled scale.

Thus, I tuned into the X-Factor Finale show. As the show progressed I grew incredibly uncomfortable. And, exponentially even more uncomfortable as hour number two of the show rolled around. Here are my complaints in order as the show progressed:

1. 50 Cent, Astro (evidently from the X-Factor talent pool) and the LA Lakers led a musical rap-type number that was backed up by dancers whose costumes looked like Playboy Bunnies without the ears and tails. The choreography for the women was overly seductive, including women helping women out of bathtubs, gyrating against a grand piano, bending over with their buttocks in seductive positions and gyrating against, and toward, the singers on stage. (The photo above was captured off a screen shot from a hand-held video uploaded on YouTube.  It’s rough, but it demonstrates a bit of the point I’m making.)

One word: ick. The number was sexist, revolting and was played out like a bedroom fantasy in front of America’s families. The women were portrayed as hyper-sexualized while the men were held up as nothing more than the lead stallions of their own private herd of fillies. Sickening…on so many levels. Perhaps the lowest point for me however, was when the young male “Astro” was highlighted in a metaphorical anointing from 50 Cent. The meaning was clear: “Here boy, this will all be yours now. Learn well, and do me proud.”

2 & 3. More of number 1…in two other places: A) A woman played in the snow, encased in a giant snow globe, as one of the final contenders sang; and, B) Another number similar to what was described in my first point performed by Bulldog and Ne-Yo. And yes, they were backed up by more women with beautiful bodies, dancing in just-barely-less-seductive dances than the first number.

But then…they all took their jackets off for the second half, and their black-laced, see through body suits gave exactly the same message. More of the same, with the 50 Cent and the Bulldog led numbers taking up at least 15 minutes of the show total. Was the message clear? Absolutely. Was it received by millions of young girls and boys across the U.S. and possibly the world? Probably. And I’m just so incredibly sad about that.

4. A short commercial highlighting a Dolly Parton and Queen Latifah shocked me. Queen Latifah looked as radiant and strong as usual, but I got two quick glimpses of Dolly’s face…and I must say, I can hardly recognize the highly awarded County and Western Star. Dolly has had so many facial procedures that she looks like a caricature of her former self. Everything that is wrong about cosmetic procedures was evident – the “wolf” grin (widened mouth due to face lifts), “fish lips” due to collagen injections, and unfortunately, jokes interjected into the script to make up for the problem. You know when the writers have no choice but to say out loud what the audience thinks that things are bad.

Dolly – I love your voice, I love your spirit, and I sorely miss whatever face you would have naturally progressed toward by this time. RIP sweet Dolly aged face. Wish I could have known ya.

5. Finally, the finish of the show. This gets me every time when it comes to American Idol. The problem with the X-Factor is, however, that the ante was ramped up five-fold. A FIVE MILLION dollar contract is awarded to the winner who clearly was emotionally undone by the announcement. As was her family and friends in the audience who rushed the stage. As was the normally cool Simon Cowell. No one was in control of their faculties and that’s perfectly normal. Yet, Continue reading Five Reasons Why I Absolutely Hated the X-Factor Finale Show →

Relationships

The Need to Rescue: Important Messages for Family Members or Friends of Addicts

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Addiction
Photo credit Alan Cleaver

Addiction is a powerful thing.

I’ve had clients who talk about their own intergenerational alcoholism like it was another family member.

I’ve seen babies taken from their mothers at the time of birth because they were born addicted to crack cocaine.

I’ve seen couples in tears because the husband’s addiction to pornography keeps them from being intimate.

I’ve seen an individual male client tell me with a gleam in his eye that “this month, my wife is gonna win the jackpot over at the casino.”   He shares this hope in session right after he tells me that he can’t pay their bill because they’re probably going to file for bankruptcy “this week.”

I’ve seen enough.  But there’s always more.  And attached to the more, will always be the family and friends who love those whose addictions are out of control and rocking the world around them.

This post is for those around the addicts whose worlds are being rocked.  I’m talking to you today because I’ve seen how incredibly hard it is to be the loved one of someone who is addicted to…something.

I know that you respond the way you do because you love them.  And, I know it’s hard to see but many times your responses will only keep the addiction going longer, or delay your loved one getting better.  And, I know that sometimes the most well intended actions on your part make perfect sense to you because you are so worried about the welfare of the person who isn’t themselves…who is addicted to something and it is ruining their lives.

I know this.  And, I’m writing to you anyway.  I’m writing to you as an outside person to try and offer you a resource when you’re feeling like you are at your wits’ end and you feel like you can’t take your world being rocked any longer.  Here are a few tips…I hope you take them as I intend them – with respect and with genuine regard for you and your addicted loved one.

  • If certain people can’t be present at an intervention, do it anyway.  This seems like a “no brainer,” but so many times I’ve seen people put off asking their loved ones to get help because “Uncle Bob” or “their best friend” can’t be there.  They may never be able to be there.  And, YOU may not feel equipped to say or handle the situation very well.  But I promise you…the longer you put it off, the easier it will be to talk yourself out of the entire prospect. And then, the addiction will only continue until things get potentially “even worse” than you thought…when you never thought things could get worse.
  • Stop overfunctioning for the addict.  Stop it.  I really mean it.    So many times friends or loved ones “are just going to check the cabinet to see if there’s alcohol in the house,” or “innocently bring up the fact that they saw an empty pill bottle in the trash to see how they react,” or “just casually sneak a peak at the computer…or the diary…or a personal planner…because it’s for their own good.”  So many times word vomit comes out of friends or loved one’s mouths and it’s incredibly uncool.  Regardless of being “well intentioned” what it is really doing is helping relieve YOUR anxiety.  YOUR job is to take care of relieving your own anxiety about the addict’s problems AWAY from the addict.  Talk to a priest, a counselor, a support person…but DON’T nag, “act as an accountability partner,” or play any fake role in your addict’s life that really acts as a disguise for you checking up on them.  THEY need to get better, and every time you devise a clever way to check on them, it’s apparent to the addict and will only harm your relationship more.
  • Stop playing judge.  Many times, a close person or family member will “hold out” from an addict some sort of resource.  For example, let’s say the addict owns land or stock or some other kind of asset.  Many times, family members will accept a “bargain” with an addict and say, “Okay – we’re going to keep this stuff from you until you get better.  When you prove you can handle it, we’ll give it back.”  This is the worst kind of blackmail.  Continue reading The Need to Rescue: Important Messages for Family Members or Friends of Addicts →
Reading Room

Cracked and Yellowed vs. Freshley Pressed

Teddy Roosevelt

Please take my hand. I’d like to lead you to the literary place I’ve just now found. We will be traveling to Chapter 1, page 4 of “Theodore Roosevelt and His Time,” from the Yale Chronicles of America series, published in 1912.

Young master Roosevelt has just described being bullied by two boys his age on a stagecoach, writing that he was a “foreordained and predestined victim” for their rough teasing, and they “industriously proceeded to make his life miserable.”

After sharing that he could stand it no longer and engaged in the fight, he recounted feeling completely humiliated that either boy alone could handle him easily. He nary made a mark or any gain toward doing a lick of damage in return for what they were dishing out to him. It was after that incident he decided he must learn to defend himself.

Flash forward to his college days. The scene is now the still-primitive history of the Dakotas, but settlement is evident everywhere. Roosevelt wrote that the land of the West had “gone, gone with Atlantis to the isle of ghosts and of strange dead memories.” He further wrote, “A man needed to be able to take care of himself in that Wild West then.”

The action gets really juicy when the pages detail a story of Roosevelt entering a bar only to be called “Four Eyes” by a “grown-up bully” who taunts him. Further, the man announced to the room that “Four Eyes” was buying everyone in the place a round of drinks. Having trained in boxing ever since the incident of his youth, Roosevelt hit the man square in the jaw, and then again a cross punch to the face. His “1-2 punch” knocked the bully out cold and as the man fell to the ground, his head knocked against the bar for good measure.

Once the man came to he stood up, picked up his things, and checked on to the first train leaving town that evening. And that, my friends, is an account of only two pages of the book.

Cracked and yellowed, the pages of antique books invite me to their pages almost weekly. If you ride in my car and we stop suddenly, an antique book might slide out from under the seat and tap your shoe. If you dig around in my purse or briefcase, you’ll probably find another.

I am on a continuous journey in thrift or antique stores to find good priced books over topics that interest me and are in good enough shape to read. I hardly ever spend more than fifty cents for a book, but I can tell you that I get a priceless adventure almost every time.

While I love the feeling of opening a freshly pressed volume, I will always have a book from ages gone by to review, to help me reflect, and perhaps…to inspire me to learn boxing!

How about you? Any antique literary treasures you are reading?

Love,

[kelly]

 

Oklahoma culture

He’s “A Man!,” He Can “Do The Gundy,” and He Just Earned Coach of the Year

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In 2007 Mike Gundy made an ESPN “Decade In Sports” moment when he reacted in a primal and protective way about a quote in a newspaper article covering one of his players.

Holding the paper up for all to see, he started a rant that included his now famous statements such as, “Come after me! I’m a man, I’m 40!” and “This is garbage…It makes me embarrassed to be associated with athletics!…Makes me wanna puke!”

The gloves were off. The female sports writer of the article to which he was referring was in the room, and she didn’t say a word. There wasn’t really anything she COULD say.

Gundy had stated in front of a room full of national and local media that she needed to “get her sources straight.”  And perhaps she did.

After a mixed, then elated, then raucous reaction over the next few hours, “I’m a man, I’m 40!” became a pop-culture phrase known across the U.S. It was so well known that later Justin Bieber revealed he had downloaded the rant as his personal cell phone ringtone.

Adding to the smiles, it was later revealed that Mike Gundy, in response to Beiber’s ringtone, downloaded some of Bieber’s music for his own phone.

A few years later, pop culture got a big dose of “Gundy-dom” once again when a camera caught footage of “The Gundy,” a celebratory dance the coach does in the locker room after a big win.  Less than a day after the footage was released, a re-mix of “Teach Me How To Gundy” began to spread across the internets.

But Gundy got to enjoy his own “real, live and earned” moment when Continue reading He’s “A Man!,” He Can “Do The Gundy,” and He Just Earned Coach of the Year →

Music Scene, NaBloPoMo

Christmas Pipes: My Pick of the Top Female Christmas Recordings of the Last Half-Century

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When my mind drifts to Christmas music, I’ll frequently hear Bing Crosby crooning, Nat King Cole smoothly balladeering, or perhaps Mark Lowrey’s “Mary Did You Know.”

But when I focus my thoughts on what female artists have contributed to the Christmas recording repertoire this past half-century, I’m truly amazed.

I’ve decided to open up a discussion about the most influential, powerful or classic female Christmas recordings. Below are my selections of true difference makers in the Christmas recording world. There are sixteen in all.

I’ve started with the ones I feel are relevant, but as you near the end of the list you’ll find the ones I feel “win” in incredibly amazing ways.

I’d love to hear your own opinions as well, so please feel free to keep the discussion going as we near our Christmas Holiday. All the best, Red Dirt Kelly

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Noted by some as “the best voice in the world,” Sissel sings an arrangement of “In the Bleak MidWinter.” She’s backed up by the Mormon Tabernacle choir. Her simplicity is where her power lies.

At a time when it was extremely rare to see African American women highlighted on T.V., Mahalia Jackson’s 1961 performance of “Sweet Little Jesus Boy” is indeed music to my ears. I wish the quality was better, but at the same time, perhaps it helps us realize that we’re traveling back in time to be at her side as we listen.

Noted for her unusually creative videos and simple, sweet voice, Regina Spektor’s “Because its Christmas” is trendy and pure. Continue reading Christmas Pipes: My Pick of the Top Female Christmas Recordings of the Last Half-Century →