Fly Rods and Rain Sticks - Story

I’m sorry, but I’m a little bummed right now.  I went to the lake to do a little fly fishing, as I pulled in the parking lot, it was full of fancy paint and shiny chrome.  Them city slickers were packing $500 fly rods and wearing them fancy store bought fishing vests.

I just shook my head and started to turn the old red truck around, then I saw my rain stick lying there on the seat.  I had myself one of those brain storms and laughed, I’d show them city folk!

Launching the boat, I rowed right into the middle of that crowd.  The hardware was flying and I thought maybe I was going to get my ears pierced.  I tied a fly on the old Medalist rod and strung out a short line, so’s I could fish one handed. 

Standing tall, waving that fly rod and my rain stick like a crazy man, I started to chant... aye... aye... aye...  The water around me opened like a giant eyeball, and there I stood chanting and catching fish.  After I’d caught about 50 fat rainbows, a bunch of them city slickers left in a big hurry. 

I sure had a laugh on them city folk.  Finally, all wore out from chanting and waving that stick around, I rowed to shore.  Near shore, I started shaking my rain stick... aye... aye... aye... and them people got out of my way.  By the time I loaded the boat, I was feeling pretty smug.

Having a joke on them city slickers was so fun that I went back the next morning.  When I pulled in the parking lot, there was a bunch of them crazy city slickers waving fly rods and rain sticks.  They was all chanting... aye... aye... aye, I just shook my head and left.  I think maybe I’m gonna give up fly fishing!

The Beautiful Carolina Coast - Poetry

Miles of waves crashing on the beautiful Carolina Coast

The cry of the gull and the wind in your hair

Then something inside you reaches out

And grabs hold of all that good stuff.

When that happens

You have the Carolina Coast in your blood

And you come back, you come back, you come back.

Imagine those early explorers in their great sailing ships

Months on the open sea, boredom, bad food, bad water and then

To step out onto those glorious Carolina beaches

And they come back, they come back, they come back.

Now all of us share the same public beaches
We leave our tracks in the sand without race, color or creed
Just a bunch of people having fun at the beach.


I can see the right of it, I can see the wrong of it

But one thing I’ll always know is

I come back, I come back, I come back

To the beautiful Carolina coast.

An Evening With Piper Reva - Music Review

Photo by Annabelle Avergne

Sometimes, life just doesn’t get any better.  Last Friday night was one of those special moments.  Washington sips and wine bar in La Conner hosted an incredible performance starring Piper Reva, and I was one of the lucky fans who packed the house.

It’s rare to find this level of entertainment up close and personal.  It’s as though Piper is singing just for you.  She takes the time to sign albums and make small talk, best of all, she makes you laugh or cry as easily as a magician pulling rabbits from a hat.

Piper’s performances are a rich buffet of original American soul food, and always fun!  You can check her schedule, buy a CD, or learn more about her by clicking on her link.  You can check out Washington sips and wine bar by clicking their link.

A Student I Will Never Forget - Swinomish Memories

David Jack is one of those students I will never forget.  He loved to play chess and was good at it.  Often, he would come to my room and haul out the chessboard.  He’d hold a castle in one of his hands, and I would have to guess which hand it was in, kind of like a bone game to see who got first move.  Then we’d start moving those pawns forward, we’d jump those knights around, move those bishops corner to corner, and it was quite the battle.  Sometimes, when I heard the words “checkmate” it smarted because here I was a college grad being beat by one of my students.

        

Another thing David loved was dolly fishing in the Swinomish Channel and Skagit River.  One day we were fishing the Johnson Bar in Burlington and David hung his lure on a snag, thinking it a fish, he set the hook and his fishing pole broke.  I know a lot of people who would have been done fishing at that point, but not David.  He went to the parking lot and found a piece of broken glass.  He walked the bar, finding a flat sandy rock, he proceeded to shave and sand the broken halves of his fishing pole until they fit perfectly!

        

One day, I cleared the room and went to lunch.  I didn’t know that David had tilted the storage cabinet out from the wall and hid behind it.  When the cabinet tilted back, he was stuck and could not get out.  The poor guy was stuck there the whole lunch period.  After lunch, unlocking the door, I heard a muffled yell, “Help Mr. R. I’m stuck!” What if David had done that on a Friday afternoon and got stuck there the whole weekend?  I could just imagine the newspaper headlines, “Teacher Leaves Student Trapped For The Weekend.” 

Man VS Animal Kingdom - Poetry

Pie cooling on sill

Mice dancing, sniffing, licking

Leaving surprises

Vultures circling

Near naked sunbathers

Wishful daydreaming

Torn broken ice chest

Bear drinking ice cold beer

Hairy hangover

Jack and John - Story

My Great, Great Grandpa John (Jack) Everett Hoyt's Pigs

Old Jack laughed, his gnarled fingers scraping the pan as he tossed table scraps to his chickens.  John had promised to buy a beer at the Pig and Whistle, but he was thinking, “Yah, when pig’s fly he’ll buy!”

Old John was mulling over how he might get a tiddley wink of pig’s ear out of Old Jack.  “Yah, puttin’ lipstick on a pig don’t change nothing, and Jack ain’t likely to be buyin’ any toddy."

Finally, with the pigs in their stys, and the chickens safe in their coups, the two old pig farmers met at the Pig and Whistle for their usual evening drink.  Jack says to John, “The old sow’s dropping piglets like rain and I’m makin’ bacon.  How’s about you buyin’ the beer ta celebrate?”

John coughed and snorted, “Sounds like you got a lifetime supply of sqealing bacon so you just tuck one o’ them piglets under your arm and play me a sad an’ awful song on the bagpipes, maybe then I’ll buy us some beer.”

By now, Jack was red in the face, “If that ain’t a pig in a poke, you claimin’ ta buy me a beer and now you’re gettin’ piggy, why you’re more slippery than a greased pig and tighter with your money than a pig's rear end.”

Now it was John’s turn to be red in the face, “Calling me piggy is right fine of you because pig stands for pride, integrity and guts you old fool.  You know... don’t ya, that inside every man there’s a tiger, a pig and an ass and I’m not sure which one you is.”

Finally, the bartender says, “Well if that don’t dill my pickle, you two’s worse than two pigs in a parlor, how’s about I buy the first round just to shut you old farts up.”

Now Jack, a twinkle in his eye, takes a sip of beer and slaps John on the back, “You’re the best pal I ever had. ” 

They each buy a couple more rounds and shuffle off down the road.  John says to Jack, “Let’s go get a couple piglets so’s we can play us a sad an’ awful song on them bagpipes.” 

SKAT Buses for LaConner - Swinomish Memories

One of my favorite English assignments was to have my students write a letter to the editor of the Channel Town Press or the Skagit Valley Herald.  We would brainstorm the issues and make a list, we would read the newspapers and discuss the things important to the people of Skagit Valley.  Once researched, the students would begin the writing process.

• Write an outline

• Use the outline to write a rough draft

• Edit the letter

• Write the final draft

• Submit for publication

 Breanna Bill is a practical person, while most of the kids were thinking about things plastered all over the newspapers, Breanna chose something different.  At that time, SKAT buses were new to Skagit County, and they were not coming to LaConner!  Breanna’s letter to the editor was one of the first requesting SKAT bus services for LaConner.

    
Her letter was like the snowball that started an avalanche.  Soon, many people were asking for bus service in both LaConner and Anacortes.  Within the year, Breanna’s letter had started a landslide movement that brought the SKAT buses to LaConner.

    
This success story has always been near and dear to my heart as it clearly demonstrates the power of writing.  We may only have one voice and one vote, but through writing we can have the voice of all our people and the power of all their votes.  For this I am thankful of Breanna Bill and her letter to the editor so many years ago.  

Gun Violence In America - Political View

My Grand Uncle Norman posing with a new shooting vest and his gun collection.  Swiss hunting traditions have been passed down father to son in my family for generations.   We learn to hunt and use guns safely at an early age  and though I no longer hunt, these traditions are precious to me.

When I speak of "gun control," I'm not just referring to restrictions on gun ownership and use, but also any and all related issues that result in gun violence.  If you consider homicides, suicides and accidental shootings, it appears that nearly 100,000 Americans are shot every year, and over 30,000 of them die.  I would call this an abysmal failure of gun control in America.  If we are pro life, if we believe in the right to life, liberty and happiness, this is not acceptable, and all of us should support policies to reduce gun violence. 

In America, there is rarely any discussion of our failed gun control policies because when one even says the words “gun control” Americans on both sides the issue become agitated and refuse to listen.  So long as this behavior continues, nearly 100,000 Americans will be shot every year, and the blood will be on our hands!  We need to pull together and commit ourselves to solving the problem of gun violence, regardless of our emotions.

First of all, America is a patchwork quilt of gun control laws.  Some states have very little gun control while others are quite restrictive.  Some states have firearm death rates low as 2.8 per hundred thousand and others as high as 31.2 per hundred thousand.  Often, the level of gun control does not match up with the death rates per state.  So what’s going on, and why isn’t gun control working in America?  Why is America such a violent place?

I know that many Americans like football so I will use that sport as an analogy.  To be a Superbowl champion, you must play great offense.  The quarterback, running backs, ends and linemen all need great skills.  To be a Superbowl champion, you also need great defense.  The backfield, linebackers, ends and linemen all need great skills.  A Superbowl team is not made by any one individual, but rather by the coordination and cooperation of all.

We have tried restrictions on guns and gun owners as a stand alone solution to the problem and we have failed.  We have tried locking people up as a stand alone solution to the problem, and we have failed.  We have ignored important social issues for years, and we have failed to solve the problem of gun violence.  Until we can work together using all the tools available, nearly 100,000 Americans will continue to be shot each and every year in America.

For America to be successful at reducing gun violence, we need to be working like a Superbowl team.  We need a comprehensive plan that addresses all the related issues:

• sensible restrictions on firearms
• firearms training and proficiency testing for gun owners

• a court system that locks up dangerous criminals

• criminal restrictions on hate speech and inciting violence
• drug laws that reduce violence
• affordable comprehensive health care for all Americans

• living wage jobs for all Americans

I know that this is a daunting task, but it is not impossible.  Many other countries, Switzerland for example, has reduced gun violence because they address all the issues.  They are playing like a Superbowl team, or perhaps a better analogy, they are running like a “Swiss watch.”

Teaching The Angels - Swinomish Memories

Mary Lou and Mike

When I came to La Conner in 1979, Mary Lou Cladoosby was my aide, and it didn’t take her long to become my inspiration and my mentor.  She was a woman of unwavering faith, a lady who dedicated her life to education.  Mary Lou was always taking college classes and and always carried a textbook tucked under her arm.

She had many goals in life, and two of them were special.  First - she wanted to earn a college degree. Second - she wanted one of her sons to be the Swinomish Tribal Chairman.  Mary Lou completed her college degree and it was awarded posthumously in the spring of 1996.  Shortly after passing on, her son, Brian, became Swinomish Tribal Chairman, a position he still holds to this day.  I miss Mary Lou and am ever so grateful that her husband Mike, her sons Tony, Brian, Marvin, Marty and her daughter Michelle treat me like part of the family and they are all very dear to me. 

Mary Lou passed on in November of 1996, and on that day, there was a terrible storm.  I couldn’t help but imagine it was Mary Lou standing before those pearly gates a kicking up her heels.  Poor old Saint Pete was terrible upset and he brought the Lord Almighty himself to reason with Mary Lou. 

With a voice full of love, our Good Lord asked Mary Lou why she wouldn’t cross-over and she answered, “I have grandchildren to raise and students to educate.  Then God explained, “Mary Lou, I need you up here.  These young new angels are playing their harps too loud and wearing their halos like race day caps.  Especially, I need you to teach the Golden Rule so that my guardian angels can encourage peace and good will on earth.”

Being a faithful woman and seeing the Good Lord’s logic, Mary Lou crossed over that night and now she’s in heaven teaching the angels.

Playing For Change - Music Review

If you read my reviews, you will see that music affects me in powerful ways.  I simply love making and listening to music.  Playing For Change is all about using music to unify our world in peace.  When I hear their performances, I feel as though I’ve jumped off a cliff, and instead of falling, I’m soaring like an eagle!

Their DVD is so good, that I simply had to give it away so that others could enjoy its powerful message.  I guess I’ll just have to buy me another copy and see if I can keep myself from giving that one away as well.   You can listen to several of their songs on YouTube,  if you would like to buy a copy for yourself or learn more about them, click on the attached link and enjoy!

Daddy Says - Autobiographical

Me and My Daddy

I'm standing in the dark, looking down the outhouse trail and Momma says, "Go with him, he's only 5 years old."

Daddy says, "No!  A man can't be afraid of the dark." Then I'm running down that trail, I'm running like the wind.

I'm watching Daddy prune his boysen berries, pretty soon, he takes out a chew of Copenhagen, "Daddy, can I have some?"

"Sure son, but a man has to take 3 fingers," so I take a big 3 fingered pinch of chewing tobacco and eat it like candy.  Pretty soon, I'm on my hands and knees talking to somebody named "Ralph!"

Momma sticks her head out the backdoor and sees me puking my guts out, "You didn't, you didn't... did you?"

Daddy says, "Yep, I gave him the cure."

It's Saturday morning and I'm watching cartoons.  Daddy comes home from working graveyard shift at the sawmill.  "Hey, you want a pet skunk?"

"Yaaa!"  So Daddy gets a gunny sack and we jump in the '36 Plymouth.  We drive to Bob Beaver's cow pasture and there's a momma skunk leading her babies through the briers.  I roll under the fence, and I'm reaching out, gonna grab one, when I realize what I'm doing, "Daddy, won't he spray me?"

Daddy starts laughing, "No, he's too little pick him up, pick him up."  All of a sudden, I'm staring the one-eyed-winky of death right in the eyes.  He let go a yellowish spray...  Nearly blinded, choking and gasping, I ran back to Daddy with my skunk.

Just then, an old lady drives up in her brand new Cadillac car saying, "Oh, my grandchildren would love a pet skunk, can you catch me one?"

"Arrrg!" I'm off chasing them skunks again, I may not be too smart, but I'm persistent.  This time, I grabbed that skunk by the front end, I'd rather get bit than sprayed again.  I dropped that skunk in the lady's trunk and Daddy slams the lid.  She drives off, all of a sudden, she's hanging out the window, trying to drive that fancy Cadillac car.

I'm playing in the hay mow, we are swinging on rope and dropping into the hay.  Daddy and my uncles are pitch forking hay onto a trailer.  At the end of the day everyone is tired and standing by Uncle Bob's new fangled electric fence.  One little wire keeps all them cows in, no more chasing strays, what a wonderful invention.  Then Daddy says, "Let's go for a walk."  He bends over and taps that little wire and tells me the fence is not turned on,  so I grab hold and throw a leg over, yeowww!  There I am hung up on that fence, Daddy lied.

I'm deer hunting with my daddy and we're walking along the Samish river.  I'm looking for a log to cross on so that I won't get all wet.  Then I hear a splash and there's Daddy, standing in the river and calling me a sissy.  The only thing I could do was jump in and join him.  We both hunted wet all that day.

Growing up with a daddy like mine could have made me mean as "boiled owl" but instead, I've had a lifetime of belly laughs, and because of my daddy, I'm not afraid of the dark, I don't chew, I know better than to pick up a skunk, I know my way around an electric fence, and I ain't no sissy - thanks Daddy!

NWIFC News - Swinomish Memories

In 1979, I was hired as a teacher for the LaConner School District and finally retired in 2008.  My journey was long and interesting.  When I arrived in LaConner, I was still a "wet behind the ears," redneck boy from Sedro Woolley.  Landy James and Mary Lou Cladoosby took me under their wing and began teaching me about the Swinomish people and how to behave.  With their help, my journey through Indian Country has been a happy one, and I have many fond memories of my Swinomish students and friends.

For many years, I subscribed to the Northwest Indian Fisheries Commission News figuring it would be a good read for my students.  Salmon are an integral part of Native American life in the Pacific Northwest.  The natives really do care about the survival and enhancement of salmon runs, and they are doing everything they can to protect and preserve them.  After having read the Northwest Indian Fisheries News, I was amazed at how much was being done.  I was always impressed by Billy Frank's many editorials on Being Frank, he is a great orator on both the stage and on paper, his words are worth listening to and thinking about.

Those of you who care about our salmon runs should read the Northwest Indian Fisheries News, I think you will be pleasantly surprised.  You can access it by clicking on the attached link.  The many articles and photos can be accessed by clicking on the various title boxes - enjoy!

Seattle Pro Musica - Music Review

Seattle Pro Musica is a choral ensemble conducted by Karen Thomas.  They are the kind of choir that you might expect to find performing for kings and queens in some famous European cathedral.  Even better, they are located in nearby Seattle, Washington.  Pro Musica puts on a series of community concerts and lucky me got to feel like a King when they performed their Water Music concert at our very own Maple Hall in LaConner.

Song and voice washed over me like great ocean waves, leaving my brain awash with adrenalin and endorphins, a powerful natural high.  As they sang You have ravished my heart from Song of Songs, Canticle 4:9-16, it seemed that as their voices rose, they ascended like giant waves, growing taller and taller, and then, as their voices ebbed, they grew smaller and smaller, returning to their normal stature.  I imagined that I was a boy again, and that I was learning to sail.  We skirted the rocky shores of Nova Scotia, Great Grandpa Neil Gorrie was in front of me saying, "Keep the wind in your sails, son."

Lux Lucis by Karen Thomas, is another amazing piece that literally translated means light.  With numerous references to radiance, the harmonies danced like sunlight on the waves, the angelic voices of a hundred waves washed me clean as a new born babe.  I took a few deep breaths and let the song fill my mind until there was nothing left but light and song.  It became the perfect Buddhist meditation, my cluttered mind at last calm and clear, I was living in the moment.

After sailing on the sea of a concert called Water Music, I know that when I die and go to heaven, I'll hear the angels sing and say, "Been there, done that!"  If you are a music lover, you'll want to hear Seattle's Pro Musica, just click on the YouTube link or go to the Pro Musica link to learn more about them and to see their performance schedule.

Reggie Miles - Music Review

Reggie Miles is a man with a story, he's a foot stomping, old fashioned, bottleneck blues player.  He will tell you how he built the old guitar that he plays and you will find him on the street corners, in the bars, in the concert halls, playing that old guitar and having a real good time.

Sometimes, you find something old fashioned, something really good, something like a family recipe for really good apple pie or brownies, and that would be Reggie's music.  To hear samples of his old fashioned, foot stomping blues, you can click on the link attached to this blog.  I guarantee it will be all soul food and a foot tappin' good time.

Hello, India Calling... - Political View

Most of us have experienced the new phenomenon of getting a phone call from the bank or other important businesses and having trouble understanding because the operator is a foreigner speaking English as a second language.  Even worse than the poor communication is the fact that more and more American jobs are going overseas.

Cousin Ron emailed me this morning, happy to report that requesting an American phone representative was my right by law!  What wonderful news, our politicians are finally taking steps to protect our jobs.  Then I checked the Internet to confirm this wonderful tidbit.  Oh no, "say it ain't so Joe!"  Apparently our politicians, in a rush to protect corporate America, have waffled again and refused to protect American jobs.  Evidently, a bill containing this language, was introduced, but not acted upon.  Again and again, the politicians have failed to represent the American worker and we are indeed a nation of the corporation, by the corporation, for the corporation and President Lincoln's patriotic words ring hollow.

In support of business, some of the companies operating overseas have a voluntary policy to redirect you to an American operator at your request.  So, by all means do so, it may save a few jobs.  American jobs will never again return home so long as our political representatives refuse to represent the people.  Corporate money is where it's at and where it will stay, unless we do something about it, unless we demand campaign and lobby reform that takes the corporate money out of politics.

Hello, India calling...

Piper Reva - Music Review

I haven't been to the Conway Muse in awhile and one of the things I'm missing is Piper Riva.  This amazing young lady is the consummate performer.  She doesn't just sing... she doesn't just play guitar... she doesn't just act, but does all three superbly!  She puts her heart and soul into her act and plays your heartstrings like a "magician pulling rabbits out of a hat."  She can melt an old man's heart, put a tear in your eye, or make the audience laugh 'till they are falling out of their chairs.

To check Piper's performance schedule, buy a CD, or simply to learn more about her, you can click on her link.  You can see a music video, on YouTube and if you ever get the chance to see her perform live, you won't want to miss it, and I think, unless you are totally blind and deaf, that you will be "blown away."

Imagine - Political View

Imagine that the Black Panthers held a rally and urged their followers to remove a particular politician from office. Imagine they did this on their website while wearing full military gear and waving an M-16. Imagine that this politician was later shot along with 18 other innocents, and 6 of them died, including a 9 yr. old girl.

Imagine that a group of Taliban supporters went on national television and released a map of the United States with cross hairs on the politicians they want removed. Imagine that they told their followers, do not “Retreat – Instead Reload!” Imagine that one of these politicians was later shot along with 18 other innocents, and 6 of them died, including a 9 yr. old girl.

Imagine that an Iranian clergyman went on national television claiming to be a “progressive hunter.” Imagine that he told his followers that the United States government was full of vampires and that his viewers should “drive a stake through the heart of the bloodsuckers.” Imagine that one of these politicians was later shot along with 18 other innocents, and 6 of them died, including a 9 yr. old girl.

Imagine that the above terrorists, who gave the implied orders, would be considered totally innocent and walk free upon the land. Imagine that the loss of 6 precious American lives will go largely unpunished. Imagine that the murder and mayhem will be allowed to continue.

Imagine a world where hate speech is not allowed. Imagine a world where equality reigns supreme and there are no double standards. Imagine a world where everyone participates in politics and demands that justice be done.

Hwy. 101 Road Trip - Travel

            The coasts of Oregon and California are spectacular in January.  The crowds are small, there’s lots of wildlife, and for us Washington “mossy backs” nice cool, almost spring like, temperatures.

         At the mouth of the Columbia river there were many ships and colorful boats.  Off the mouth of the Columbia is some of the  most dangerous water in the world, it is where the coast guard trains their rough water rescue crews.  You see many Coast Guard boats and large ships here.  Steelhead streams with eagles abound and you are likely to see some elk in the fields.

         As you enter California, you begin seeing giant monolithic rocks standing like castles along the shoreline, waves crashing and splashing up their sides.  On the rocky shoreline, you will also see sea lions resting on the beach like giant alien slugs.  Suddenly they will rear up and do battle, sometimes they simply roll over or flip a flipper in pure bliss.

         Then there is the redwood forest, trees of epic proportion, rising to the heavens above.  A place my great grandfather visited in the 1930’s, a place I last visited in 1961.  Great mossy monarchs ruling Northern California for centuries upon centuries.  It’s a miracle having withstood the march of progress, the roar of chainsaws, and that they still stand tall and proud.

         As you enter Southern California, watching wildlife is replaced with watching people, there are lots of people here.  Surfers having tailgate parties, who will float for hours waiting for that perfect wave.  Fishermen catching surf perch, colorful fish that sometimes remind me of a fish wearing pajamas. Seagulls posing for the camera with their great big mussels.

         Then there’s Venice Beach, a people watching paradise!  Crowds of people milling about like cows heading for the milking parlor.  Hawkers calling out, “The doctor is in, get your legal medical marijuana.”  A street musician pounding a piano and a guitar player on roller skates, it really is rock and roll.  Food, food, food, everywhere you look there are people and there is food.  Colorful stores with colorful people line the streets, and I buy t-shirts for my grand babies from a Korean man who tells me about his own very special grand babies.  We may be of different cultures and backgrounds, but all of us are human, all of us are brothers and sisters.

         Escaping the crowds, we visit a small organic farm, Love House Dahlias, near Ventura.  We are there to see a friend, Fred Owens, who was a member of our “open mike” group back home in La Conner, Washington.  Fred joined Worldwide Opportunities in Organic Farming (WOOF) and found a job at the dahlia farm working part time for room and board.  He is happy there and plans to stay.  You can read about Fred and his farm experience on his Frog Hospital blog by clicking the link on this page.