Bat Country

Dear Mrs. Verey, In 1996, you gave me the opportunity of a lifetime.  In hindsight, through my own choices and the inevitable discombobulation of life, I realize I squandered that chance. I discovered horticulture and a love of cultivating plants, quite accidentally, applying for a job with a plant rental company out of sheer need for a job.  What on earth was a plant rental company?  In this situation, 1990 Atlanta, it was maintaining plants in corporate headquarters, shopping malls, hospitals... This was right out of college.  I knew what I wanted to do in life as far as a mission - help out, be a positive for society if not change the world, the environmental situation was beginning to emerge.  I had an appointment pending with the Peace Corps, providing clean water and sanitary solutions in the Dominican Republic.  From there, I had a plan to eventually be in the foreign service. But, needing to make a buck and support myself in the interim, I m...

Thunderbirds come to Oklahoma 4.12.20 Covid Thoughts Once upon a time, as a young boy growing up on an Air Force base in the lush southwestern corner of Oklahoma, Altus to be exact, the first object of daily hero worship were the cowboys.  They were a common sight off base, in town - hats, boots, trucks, the occasional chaps.  They were the real McCoy, likely had cows hiding somewhere.  We rode horses, suffered through dust storms, dreaded tornados (except Dad whose protocol when the sirens went off was grab a beer, his camera and the kitchen stool to post himself on top of the station wagon to get a shot). Annually, the USAF's drill team, The Thunderbirds, would roll into town for an air show. Now, cowboys are cool when you're 10 years old.  Horses are cool.  But these guys...they were as close to deities as one was ever going to meet.  We would attend the shows religiously, beginning at our previous post in Charleston. At one show in Charleston, ...

So, Thursday, April 9, it happened.   What is “it” you might ask.   Well, I came unglued.   I had a full blown go to pieces. The events of the previous 3 weeks finally took their toll, and I cracked.   Once that fissure materialized, it widened with seismic effects.   The tectonic pressure finally showed itself and plates shifted, with the expected ugliness of such a moment. The dam broke, and I cried like I haven’t cried in a long time.   I cried hard.   Unfortunately, I was on the phone with my son at the time.   It wasn’t pretty.   He is my rock, the singular object of my love and all that I believe is good in the world.   We hadn’t seen each other since March 9, just before all hell broke loose and the world, once again, became a new world of undefined expectations, existential threats, imminent bad things.   Time with him is a heightened reality, each moment precious and reorienting to what is important on this p...

3.20.20 Well, here we are.   I have always thought in apocalyptic terms, but have tried to temper my thoughts with reality.   For instance, when events like Hurricane Katrina and the Fukishima fiasco happened, I got over it pretty quickly.   Arab Spring, not so much. Now, there is something loose in society that we haven’t defined – Covid-19.   What is it and where is it are the pivotal questions in the world right now.   Leaders need to be very clued in and in communication with each other.   So, where am I?   I started chronicling my situation a few days ago, but that file has disappeared, so I’m starting over. Whoo boy, what a time.   What the actual f is going on?   On the one hand we hear apocalypse, on the other, salvation is right around the corner.   I live in a very rural part of Tennessee.   I drive 1.25 hours each way to work, where we see every sector and manner of human.   I feel like shi...

10-24-19 Once upon a time, I had an idyllic period in my life, one of several.  I was living with, and soon to marry, the coolest girl I had ever met, and she was beautiful to boot.  Through her parents, I fell in love with gardening.  From there, I realized horticulture was an actual thing, a thing I could use to pursue a career which involved design, art, and my forte - esoteric information. I was on the cusp of 30 and desperate for some toehold on a path where I could make a living while satisfying my personal dispositions.  We were in Knoxville, 1993-6, she was in law school, wanting to do public interest stuff, mediation.  I had a job as the fundraiser (now development or advancement officer) at an established nonprofit, doing community organizing in the most rural areas of East Tennessee. But, as altruistic as my job was, it didn't hit enough sweet spots of what made me tick.  Doing good in the world was #1, always has been, but my creativity wa...

Parenting victory top ten: My son, his mom and blended family are headed to Los Angeles soon for his step sister's high school graduation. They are going to take advantage of the event and have planned an elaborate and enviable itinerary for a couple weeks (National Parks, a couple colleges, San Fran, the whole nine yards). I didn't have any real input on the sights they will take in, though his mom and I have shared experiences out there. However, one of my biggest jobs in being the divorced (read: not lived with) dad is the role of Cultural Overlord. I realized early on that if I'm not sharing a home with this constantly morphing young 'un, my options on leaving my imprint are limited. Hence, the Cultural Overlord dictates some avenues of experience - primarily music, movies / TV, and food, in that order. The latter two have been enhanced in today's tech dependent world. Netflix, Amazon, and a couple gray market sites provide all t...

The Canadian Goose is a beautiful, noble bird.   Not small, and fearless, they mate for life.   Like deer, they have overpopulated some places intruded upon by humans, becoming a nuisance – golf courses, airports, gated communities… The goose has long been a desirable game bird.   In my mind, they are the preferred Dickensian holiday fare.   I became intimately familiar with this fowl when in college, when my father would organize a highly regulated hunt on a state game preserve over Christmas holidays.   Flash forward to the past few weeks.   When I drive from my home in Cowan, TN up the mountain to nearby Sewanee, there is a large pond just before the road heads uphill.   It is a rather awkward arrangement, a constructed affair between a house of rather imposing design and the road.   The years have not shown the pond to be most successful – drought proves its shallowness, flood pushes it into the surrounding areas. Of late, a lone goo...