This is what we do.
The “SmashCut CineFest” film festival happens Thursday. There, I’ll be receiving my “John Milius Screenwriting” award, hosted by Taliesin Nexus, a group of creative folks rather more interested in liberty and freedom than whatever is the woke subject du jour.
I’m hoping I might, just possibly, meet the man himself, the legendary Mr. Milius (whose career I can’t even begin to capture, except to say “Conan,” “Red Dawn,” or “The Wind and the Lion.”). No one’s promised an introduction, and Mr. Milius has been ill recently, but if my life has proven anything to me, it’s that a kid who mostly grew up in Nebraska can – has to – dream.
Still, I’m going to the Dream Factory …
We arrived in Texas in February of 2018. Besides everything else that was part of the move, like starting a new job, throwing bunches of stuff in storage, new Driver’s Licenses, etc, we started work on renovating a historic home in our new hometown (population 652). How historic, we didn’t know. The tax records show it as being built in the late 1930s.
Our down-to-the-studs work on the home became more like archeology. It turns out the back 2/3s of the house was built in 1937, while the front 1/3 is a tacked on old Baptist church from between 1860 – 1880, based on the construction materials and techniques used (rusty iron nails shaped more like splinters, barn-wood, and even …
When you hear someone whinging about needing a safe space to shelter them from the trauma of hearing speech they don’t agree with, refrain from the urge to slap them silly, and have them read this article instead.
Shakespeare: “Full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”
Hobbes: “And people say that foreign film is inaccessible.”
My mood (“spirits” as they are sometimes called) is a bit subdued. If you saw the previous post about Mother’s Day, pretty sure it seems reasonable. But add to that the lingering bedamned cold and the fact I have a gall-bladder removal scheduled (after about ten years of mysterious double-me-over pain striking at random intervals), then yeah, I could be excused for feeling less gleeful than usual.
On the other hand, my lovely wife has been planning a new office for me at the historic home we are renovating, and it was finally revealed in all of its Coast Guard-themed glory this week.
Above, I’m standing beside a “Quilt of Valor” made by a dear friend in California. In …
4H day is tomorrow, so the kids are walking their animals.
This is Kaylee and Waylon the lamb.
And then from the other end of our street came Kalan, who was in a play with my son, Cameron.
I don’t know much about goats, but I was pretty sure of this young fellow’s breed. Anyone who’s read “By the Hands of Men, Book Five: Robert The Wrath of a Righteous Man” learned a bit about that particular breed of goat.
I read a LOT, probably about one novel per week on average. “By The Hands of Men” is without question the best historical fiction series I have ever read. In these meticulously researched books, the characters quickly come alive to the reader, and soon feel like personal friends. As you read you will share their successes, disappointments, near-death experiences, horror, and satisfactions. They speak in period language, and their values and sense of honor are recognizable in any circumstance. You will truly CARE about them.
Not all of the characters are good people. As the series title hints, all manner of horror and atrocity can come from the hands of …