Random thoughts at the gym

A certain person that I know spent his first few weeks of kindergarten only drawing at the art easel, peeking out now and then to see what the other boys and girls were doing before finally joining in. That's me at the gym. I'm comfortable at the treadmill next to the wall, and from that vantage point I'm trying to figure out this gym world that's all new to me.

What to wear, for instance. Now this is Austin and the dress code in this town is what you are wearing, but I have noticed a distinct division in apparel; there is the shorts and tee shirt crowd - preferably a tee that says "Darfur Death Rally 2011" or something similar, and there is the fashion statement "wouldn't-be-caught-dead-in-last-year's-warmups" crowd. Interestingly, as many men as women fit in this group.

Then there's the how-hard-you-work-out category. I have decided that you can easily determine how dedicated the gym-goer is by presence - or absence - of a towel. Got a towel? There's some effort involved. No towel? Just there to watch the babe one bench over.

From my vantage on the second story, overlooking all the strength machines and benches, I notice a number of folks practicing what I call the "one rep, five looks" exercise. They choose a free weight from the racks along the wall, strike a pose, go through one rep, then check the mirror - from several angles - to see how much change has taken place. Wait five minutes and repeat.

Or the quarter-mile-and-move-on. Someone gets on a treadmill or stair machine, cranks it up to about 5mph, goes a quarter-mile and then hops off to go get a smoothy. A few dedicated souls, however - like me - take the long, steady approach. I'm not quitting until... Oh, never mind. There's always tomorrow.

These treadmills all have a calorie counter. As the workout progresses, it adds up the effort and shows how many calories you have burned. I generally ignore it. It's too discouraging to spend 40 minutes of effort and know you have knocked off the equivalent of one Girl Scout cookie.

And why are all the treadmills, stair devices and other heavy cardio machines always on the 2nd floor? You know, where the floor shakes? Think about that - every gym you drive by you can see the rows of treadmills on the upper floor. What's up with that? You would think the "cardio" machines would be on the 1st floor for easy access by the EMTs.


There are TVs all over the place. Most are tuned to the Silver's Channel - a mix of motivational messages and music videos featuring bands like Death Cab for Bingo, or some such. The others are tuned to E! or Mega Gossip, or Ellen. It doesn't matter, though. I found that I can't walk a straight line - essential on a treadmill - and watch a TV hanging over my head. 

I did see a joke on one of the TV programs that I'm waiting to tell my grandkids. "Why did the sea monster eat all 5 of the boats full of potatoes? Cause he couldn't eat just one potato ship." I thought so, too

Monday Meanderings - 2.25.2012

No meandering for me this week. Uh-uh. Last Monday I had a little surgical procedure to take care of an umbilical hernia (technically a herniorrhapy) so it has been a stay-at-home, nest in the recliner and count the number of hours/minutes left before I can take another pain pill type of week.

Comfortable as the recliner may be, there is a limit as to what the seat can endure. One ends up walking around the house simply to avoid sitting down again.

During pre-op, everything is ready except for the visit from the doctor. He finally pops in, says, "Put your finger exactly where this hernia is." Never mind that he has poked and prodded on it at length during an office visit - so I do just what he asks. At that point, he takes out his ball-point pen and marks an  "X" on the spot, says, "See you in surgery," and pops out. Maybe he's the forgetful type - who knows?

Well, the buzz around town is that the United States Olympic Committee has asked Austin to consider bidding on hosting the 2024 Summer Olympics! Really?  As my friend and ESPN commentator Sean Adams said, "...we barely have the infrastructure for lunch hour traffic. Olympics? Let's take that as a compliment and move on."

My neighbor was out mowing his lawn this weekend. Things are greening up, but I think he was pushing it just a bit. Maybe he thought it a good idea to mow while the weather was nice and not wait till the heat of summer.

Back when I was on the lecture circuit, after some difficulty, I got into Atlanta on the tail end of a big snow storm that had blanketed the East. I mentioned to my first group that I had already mowed my lawn twice. My reviews from that group were a little off; decided not to mention mowing to my second class.

Gonna get rich quick!

Last week the Sports Illustrated Birthday Suit issue was delivered, on Valentine's Day no less.. Standard disclaimer: My wife is the subscriber to SI in this family. It is HER magazine. I can't help it if she leaves them lying around the house.

In the interest of remaining current as to the latest model of birthday suits, I felt an obligation to peruse this issue. Of course, I only read it for the articles. But I must say that something(s) caught my eye and gave me a wonderful idea for making a lot of money for very little investment!

I call your attention to page 101 where a model is wearing one half of a Bikini, somewhat covered by a pair of raggedy shorts. It's the shorts I want to discuss. Sir? The shorts. That's better. To say that these are raggedy is an understatement. They are shredded, torn, lacerated, ripped, cut, mangled, unraveled, chopped, sliced, perforated, split and incised. If you cut up a pair of jeans, bleached them, let two pit bulls use them in a fierce game of tug-of-war for a few hours, ran them through a blender, put them over, under and through a barb-wire fence and generally reduced them to dust mop status, you would have approximately the same product that the model is wearing, AND YOU COULD CHARGE $118 FOR THEM!! It says so in the fine print (yes, there is fine print).

I regret that I can't post a picture of the shorts. This is a family-oriented blog, and besides SI would probably have a hissy and cancel my wife's subscription and that would never do. Oh, no. So you will just have to take my word for the disheveled state these shorts are in.

But that's the great part. How hard is it to rip up a pair of pants and sell them for an outrageous price? I recognize that you would have to start with new jeans (they cost less than used jeans - go figure) but all you have to do abuse them to your hearts content! They don't even have to button or zip up afterwards. Obviously.

So, if you will excuse me, I'm going to go tie a bunch of pants to the back of my car and start dragging them around.

Monday Meanderings - 2.18.2013

It was bulk trash pickup in our area this past week. From the number of old couches, sofas and recliners sitting out on the curb I can only assume that the local furniture stores had a very good Christmas.

Walked up to Vazquez's for lunch again this week. You can make a much better case for that basket of chips and those grease-drenched tacos if you walk a mile to get them.

Speaking of walking, I am not... repeat, not... intimidated by the guy on my right at the gym who has his treadmill set at a 5mph speed. Nor do I feel threatened by the woman on my left jogging at an 8mph pace. No. It doesn't bother me at all. Not at all. Huh-uh. Well, maybe a little.

How is Fat Tuesday any different from all other Tuesdays?

Couldn't help but be amused at the video we saw in church yesterday. While vivid, florescent images circled and spiraled around in high-def on our 40-foot jumbotron screen and bouncy, upbeat music blared, the message ended up being, "Relax, let go of all your distractions and answer the call to worship." Huh?

And in the interest of keeping Austin weird, I want to pass on the news that on Valentines Day the two Way South Philly food trailers offered free weddings or vow renewal ceremonies for people wishing to grab a bite and get hitched.

It seems that all nine employees have been ordained online by the non-denominational Universal Life Church - my first choice for religious certification - so if you have ever dreamed about solemnizing your wedding vows with a short-order cook officiating and grease running down your chin, this is the deal for you!

You can get married any time of the year at either location for $59.99, which gets you two cheese steaks, two orders of tater tots, two drinks and a spouse. On Valentines Day the ceremony was free; you only had to pony up for the wedding meal  - $29.99. Think what Barb and I could have saved!

Born under a wandering star - Stories from the Family Tree

My father's grandfather, Thomas Starnes, looks pretty relaxed in the rocker above, but he was actually quite a wanderer. Born in 1854 in Green Co., Tennessee, he stayed there only until he was 16, and then headed to Texas. That was just the beginning.

He landed in Johnson Co., Texas but by age 24 had courted and married 18-year-old Eudora Elliott in Palo Pinto County in February, 1879.  Their first child, Maude or "Sister" was born there in 1880; likewise my grandmother Beulah, in 1883.

The next child, Earl, was born in 1886 in Henrietta, Clay Co., Texas, a few miles east of Wichita Falls; the family lived there and in Bowie, Texas, 30 miles down the road for a few years, but by 1889 had made a giant leap to White Salmon, Washington!

Lewis and Clark gave the name White Salmon to the little Indian village on the banks of the Columbia River, just across from Hood River, Oregon and it wasn't long before a full-fledged town sprang up. There, Thomas worked as a nurseryman, raising and selling fruit trees for one of the town's leading citizens, A. H. Jewett. Evidently, the letters sent back to Texas really promoted the region, because a few years later Dora's father, Samuel Elliott, and sister Sally and husband Billy Brooks arrived in White Salmon.

Thomas and Billy went into the nursery business together, in competition with A. H., but evidently were poor businessmen and today the main street of White Salmon is named Jewett Avenue - not Starnes Avenue. Defeated, the family, with the two children born in White Salmon, Lester (1889) and Archie (1893), headed back to Texas. They were back in Johnson County when Virgil was born in 1896 but the 1900 Census found the entire family - except for yet-to-be-born Loren - in Sherman, Texas. You can only wonder why they were there.

The appeal of wide open spaces was strong for Thomas. By 1905 the family was back in Indian territory again, this time in Tahlequah, Oklahoma, where the last child, Loren, was born. Sometime in this period they also lived briefly in New Mexico.

By 1910, Thomas, Dora, and some of the children were in Ontario, California. Thomas purchased some land and tried hard to be a farmer, but the call of the wild was too great. While Dora and Loren were in Texas in 1913 on a visit, Thomas sold out and he and Virgil - 17 years old at the time - took off for British Columbia Canada, expecting his wife to follow him. Dora had visited Canada previously; a manifest of Border Crossings from that period lists Thomas, Dora and Loren entering Canada from Sweet Grass Montana , but she preferred to live in California, close to where several of her children lived.

My grandmother said, "She would write to him like she was expecting him back any day and he would write her and tell her how to come to Canada; it went on that way for about two years, I think. They decided that there wasn't any use in that any longer."

Virgil describes the journey:

"We left Ontario, California, sometime in May 1913. Arrived in Edmonton, bought oxen, a wagon, and about half a ton of supplies and shipped it to Edson. There we loaded up and headed up the old Edson Trail, to the first place we had picked out on the map - Moberly Lake. 

After about two months of traveling through muskeg [bog land], up and down hills, and across rivers, so on and so forth, we arrived on Pouce Coupe Prairie. It would be late in July. After a couple of months of... travel over the old Edson Trail — building corduroy [roads] and pulling people out of mud holes, and getting pulled out in turn, mosquitoes and a few other things – the prairie looked like a wonderful place; we had no idea there was such open wonderful land in this remote country. 

So after a lot of consideration and scouting around we decided to give up going to Moberly Lake that year. Picked out a piece of land, well up on a knoll, and homesteaded. Put up a little bit of hay here, with the assistance of Mr. Timothy O'Callaghan, for our oxen, to carry us through that winter. 

Well, the funny part about it. After starting for Moberly Lake, I never got there until forty-two years later, and we drove in with a modern vehicle." 

Thomas must have at last found peace for his restless spirit; there's no evidence that he ever left the area again - not even to winter over in Dawson Creek, as so many of the prairie-dwellers did. He lived the remaining 29 years of his life in Pouce Coupe (French for "cut thumb" - ouch!) on that knoll, which is known today as Starnes Hill. He died in 1942 at the age of 87. Virgil also remained in British Columbia, marrying a Norwegian woman and spending the rest of his active years hunting and trapping - I previously told one of the family stories about him here. Dora, true to her word, remained in California until her death in 1948.

Monday Meanderings - 2.11.2013

It's been a slow week here in Lake Woebegone, my home town. Not much to report.

If you frequent the same eating establishments regularly, you soon notice, and become acquainted with others who also frequent that establishment. Like Coach, for instance. He's a regular at Fran's, also. He coaches at Reagan High School, just across the highway, and has been at Reagan off and on since the '71-'72 school year. I say off and on because he has retired twice, and intends to do it again at the end of this school year.
He was there during the time our kids were at Reagan, and if we ever learn any name besides "Coach" we'll see if the kids remember him - or he them.

Fran seems to attract retired folks. For a long time we would see Mary and her friend Daniel, an older couple who always sat in the booth by the front door. Mary passed away, and Daniel quit coming. Same with Dot and Bill; after Bill died, we see Dot only rarely. There's another elderly gentleman that we often see  and greet. He looked like one us retired folk until I heard him tell a friend about his construction business. He's a home builder in the St John's area. Builds one house at a time, sells it, and builds another.

It has been in the mid-eighties here this past week. The grass is greening up, and all sorts of foolish trees are beginning to leaf out. That makes it all the more remarkable to see the pictures and videos of all the snow in the Northeast. Incredible images.

What? I missed the Grammy's again. Maybe next year.

And I noticed that someone is concerned about the security of this tree! Why that is I don't know.

What's a BFI and why is mine not on the chart?

We've joined a gym. Here's the first part of the saga.

Before Silver's Gym will let you loose in their facility, you must theoretically go through an "Introduction and Orientation." The Introduction, which is another attempt to get you signed up for extra-cost training sessions and "guidance" includes a weigh-in, tape measurements, a Body Fat Index reading, and a "Plan." We got as far as the weigh-in and the BFI before we were able to make it clear to Sales Guy that were were NOT signing up for any extras (Barb used her best Conan the Car Buyer skills - "Read My Lips").

I was going to scan the little ticket that the measurement machine prints out and include it here, but Sales Guy neglected to give us our "incomplete Plan." Besides, it's just a number, folks - no big deal. Some athletes have small numbers like 15 to 20 percent. Some of us have higher numbers. My print out said, "Only one person on the scale at a time, please."

Cutting his losses, Sales Guy took us upstairs to the "cardio and resistance" machines for our orientation. They had a bunch of treadmills and stationary bikes, and devices like stair masters, elliptical trainers, Iron Maidens, Racks and other less obvious devices. I headed for the recumbent stationary bike; Barb, who had cheated and had already been on a treadmill before her official orientation, left me with Sales Guy and headed off alone.

Note to self: Don't irritate the Sales Guy if he is also the one doing the orientation. By the time he let me off the bike I was also five cardio miles down the road! Then he drug me over to a treadmill!

Our modest home-variety treadmill lets you set a speed and then tells you how far you have walked. It is also supposed to be able to vary the degree of incline, but sometimes when you try to do that you hear a very bad noise and the lights start flashing. If you are lucky it just gets stuck on the incline.

The treadmills at the gym do all that and much, much more. They measure all kinds of statistics, count down as well as up, blow fresh air in your face, measure your heart rate and display inspirational messages. Mine kept flashing Proverbs 6:9 at me. They also have "programs" which instruct the machine to adapt the speed and incline to predetermined scenarios. Sales Guy selected "L'Alpe d'Huez" for my program, which is French for "Dead Man Walking." Seriously, these things will elevate so high you have to hang on the front bars to keep from falling off of them!

When (IF) I recover, I'll share some observations of gym life.

My Paul Harvey Story

The Dodge Ram Superbowl commercial that featured Paul Harvey's monologue "So God Made a Farmer" was far and away the best commercial of  a rather dismal lot this year. Harvey, who passed away in 2009, delivered the speech to a Future Farmers Association convention in 1978. Farm.com made a YouTube video in 2011 that was a forerunner of the Dodge Ram version - just fewer Ram trucks and lower production values.

I met Paul Harvey once; in fact I spent several hours with him one evening. The occasion was a fund-raising dinner in Nashville, held on behalf of the Herald of Truth radio and television programs. Harvey had been hired as the keynote speaker. This was way back when Hector was a pup, and I worked for the advertising agency that made the arrangements.

To be honest, I can't remember what my role was that evening, or for that matter, why the agency even sent me to Nashville in the first place. I just know that I was there. On the afternoon of the dinner, another guy from the agency and I drove (he drove, I was along for the ride) to the general aviation terminal at the Nashville airport and picked up Mr. Harvey and another gentleman - his publicist, I think - and delivered them to the hotel in downtown Nashville where the banquet was to be held. Harvey was an avid pilot, and had flown his own plane down from his home in Chicago.

On the trip to the hotel, Harvey was chatty, asking about the Herald of Truth program, the churches of Christ in general and what our role in this shindig was. He told us he was good friends with Billy Graham and seemed rather ecumenical in his religious views.

At the hotel, we handed him off to the guys in charge; he and Batsell Barett Baxter, the speaker for the programs at that time, went off together to a nearby room. After the speech - which is a total blank for me, obviously not about farmers - we drove Mr. Harvey and his associate back to the airport. I don't think he said a single word on the return trip. He was working on the next day's broadcast, scribbling in a notebook and reading papers that the publicist had in his briefcase.

And that is my Paul Harvey story.       Good day.

Monday Meanderings - 2.4.2013

Well, another Superbowl, over and done with. As Superbowl games go, this one was pretty good, not decided until the very end. I thought the commercials were weak this year, with the exception of the Paul Harvey "God made farmers" ad. Outstanding. I could easily have done without seeing the Go Daddy commercial. And there is no truth to the rumor that the NFL is blaming the power outage on Beyonce's hair dryer.  Oh, by the way - what do you call 52 guys sitting at home watching the Superbowl? The Dallas Cowboys.

People who keep up with these things say Americans spent $12 billion dollars on the Superbowl - mostly for food. On Sunday they expected the audience to consume 30 million pounds of snack food, 158 million avocados, 4.4 million pizzas, 50 million cases of beer (actually less than 4th of July or Labor day), and 1.2 billion chicken wings!  I couldn't find how many pounds of Velveeta and how many cans of Ro-Tel gave their all last night.

The Superbowl marks the official end of football season. We are now in those dark days when there are no TV sports but collegiate basketball, and that doesn't get interesting until March. The UT basketball team(s) are terrible this year. I predict neither will get a bid to the NCAA tourneys this year and even the NIT is doubtful. When does baseball start? You say Spring training starts a week from Tuesday? Go Rangers!

Enjoying the Spring-like weather. Actually able to enjoy a few days of morning coffee on the patio. A snuggie helps, though. We don't have a weather-predicting groundhog; we use an Armadillo here in Texas, and he most definitely saw his shadow, for whatever that is worth.

I noticed that it is now legal to carry concealed handguns in church in Arkansas. I can think of several reasons why that might be a bad idea. Must be very nervous times for long-winded preachers.

If you are keeping track, we have already used up 1/12th of the year - 8.33% of 2013.Maybe I need to get started on my resolutions.

What's in a name?

 One of the interesting – and challenging – facts about genealogy is that you are never sure how your ancestors spelled their name. Take Starnes, for example. When the first group of Palatine Germans in my father's line sailed to the US, they spelled their surname Staring. One generation later, it had transformed to Starnes, with a sprinkling of Starns, Starn and Stearns. My mother's line descended from English Brambletts. Or is it Bramlett? Or Bramlet? First names varied as well. One of my ancestors is either Archibauld, Archibald, Archibal or Archibalt, depending on which  document you are looking at. Or perhaps no name was recorded. You would be surprised how many early family Bibles list the birth of “Sister” and "Son." No other name is given. Maybe they got around to naming the kids. Maybe not.

Then there is the generational issue. Is the person listed in this old document Thomas I, Thomas II, Thomas III - or is this the Thomas who is a son of a brother, named after his Uncle? And don't get me started on cousins marrying, or widows marrying brothers of their deceased husband and vice versa.

I came across an interesting document that really points out the variations of early family names – the will of Valentine Stearn, my four-times-great granduncle. In it, he lists his wife, father and several other relations with the surname Stearn. Then he lists some cousins (and in-laws – his wife belonged to this clan) and spells their names as Conegham,  Coneygham, Conynyham, and Conynham. All in the same document! One generation later this clan begins calling themselves Cunningham.

“In the name of God Amen being sick and as it appears to me very nigh unto death: but blessed be God in my perfect Sense and Memory; having comitted my Soul to God, who gave it; and my body to the dust; to be decently buried at ye discretion of my Exes nothing doubting, but they shall be united at the Resurrection; As for what worldly goods it hath pleased God to bless me with; I leave it in manner & form as follows; and first I Order that what debts I owe, be paid of the whole of my Estate; Next I order that my Beloved Spouce, Jean Stearn shall have ye whole of my Estate Excepting such Legacies as is after mentioned: ITEM I leave to my honored Father, Frederick Stearn my Suit of Blue Cloath & My new Buck Skin britches: Item to my brother Fredericks oldest son John Stearn, One hundred acres of my land; upon Juniate: Item to my cozens Arthur & Charles Conegham my interest to one hundred acres more upon Juneato: ITEM to Arthur Coneygham my new Great Coat: Item to Henry Conynyham five pounds Item to Catherine Conynham five pounds if she lives with her Aunt; untill she comes of age; * be obedient to her; a horse and Saddle to ye Value of Fifteen pounds, ten shillings, or the Cash Item to Brother Leonard Stearn my blue Camblet Coat & ye Cloath that is in the house for my jacket I order further that my Beloved Spouse Jean Stearn and Arthur Conynham be the whole and Sole Excs of this my Last Will and Testament: Given under my hand 15th day of February 1761”.