The Kwik Kar Archives: Irish Wolfhound to the Rescue!

Let's take a peek back in time — a little over a decade, to be exact. Dachshunds no longer rule the earth. It's the Age of Irish Wolfhounds. Read on...

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The Kwik Kar Archives: Miniature Golf!

Right up front, I'd like to briefly address a controversy which this ad touches on. Here, I call miniature golf the "silliest sport." However, I've had other folks swear up and down that curling is the silliest sport; while others are quite sure that egg tossing or gurning fits the bill. Despite my verbiage in the ad, I'm really neutral on what constitutes the silliest sport. But I have to admit that curling is just about the most bizarre competitive endeavor I've ever seen. I say "bizarre" here but what I really mean is that it's the most unusual, exotic, somewhat hypnotic, cryptic, fluid, graceful yet inscrutable sort of thing. What are these people doing? How do you score points? Do you even score points? Well, apparently there are enough folks who will gather and watch curling; just look at the viewer stats on this YouTube clip:

(Screencap)

Watch this clip at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TpP30ADVTfA

126,935 people viewed this clip! Apparently, curling is Big Stuff in places I don't hang out in much. But, like I said, I do find it strangely hypnotic. Go watch this clip and pay attention to the guys with the 'brooms' (my terminology) who appear to sweep the ice ahead of the 'stone' (their terminology) as it glides down in a stately procession of stone and humans. What are those guy's positions called? What are they doing, exactly? It's most perplexing. I notice that 22 people out of 65 who bothered to express an opinion said they "dislike" this clip of curling. Those must be the Scottish folks. Sorry, Scotland. Better luck next season! Do they even have seasons in curling? Oh, well.

On to this week's Kwik Kar of Weatherford glance back in time, from 2004:

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The Kwik Kar Archives: Flu Season!

Today's Kwik Kar Blast from the Past first saw ink in March, 2005:

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The Call of the Small But Wild

I've noticed that a lot of folks in my area call them 'locusts', but it might be a bit less confusing to call them 'cicadas', which is their other common name.  You might be in a part of the world that doesn't have cicadas, so here's a photo of one:

Don't bother clicking, it doesn't get any bigger.

I'm used to hearing the word 'locust' used in reference to grasshoppers. I think that in the King James Version of the Bible, whenever locusts are discussed, the reference is to a grasshopper species native to the Mediterranean region and/or North Africa.

Anyway, if you've never lived in an area that has cicadas, you don't know what you're missing! Their pulsating, drumming, cycling song is such a familiar part of the sonic environment that to me it just doesn't feel like summer until I begin hearing them. I can understand why some folks might get annoyed with the racket they can throw up, but to me their plaintive attempts at communication are pure music.

Now, in nature no species exists in a vacuum, so to speak. In many parts of the United States, we have other species that feed on these big, juicy insects. One in particular has always struck awe in me, and that is the so-called 'cicada killer wasp' (Sphecius speciosus). These are huge wasps, whose main claim to fame is that they are able to catch, paralyze and haul cicadas in the air back to their nests.

Here's a photo of an Eastern Cicada Killer Wasp in the act of hauling a cicada. This photo was found at Wikipedia.com and is said to be in the public domain, but I'd like to give a public tip of the hat to Mr. Bill Buchanan of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service for getting what must be a pretty rare look at the wasp at work.

 Photo courtesy Bill Buchanan, U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. Public domain.

A brief search on the Interwebs indicates that there are two species found here in Texas, the Eastern and Western cicada killer; my local variety are the Eastern. I've been stomping around in the wild — with a camera — for decades, and I've never actually seen a wasp hauling a cicada like this, but I knew that they did this and have always hoped to see it one day. We've got several cicada killers now nesting in a city park just a couple of blocks from my home. I've starting doing morning walks in the park again for exercise, and almost ran into one this morning as she hovered around the dirt mound that marked the entrance to her burrow in the ground. She was not aggressive in the least, although she hovered close for a few seconds, checking me out. According to the Wikipedia article on these wasps, they'll generally not attack humans and will usually only sting if you attempt to handle one roughly or step on it with a bare foot. However, the sheer size of these creatures, and the fear of what that sting must feel like, has always caused a deeply conditioned urge to arise in my mind —the urge to flee at a rapid departure rate! Interestingly, the Wikipedia article relates that one person stung by a cicada killer has stated that the sting was little worse than a "pinprick." Somehow, I'm not completely buying that, but I'll try to remind myself of what this guy said next time a wasp the size of a small hummingbird is hovering next to my face!

So early this afternoon, on my way back home on foot from downtown, I passed by the city park, and just barely beyond the park I happened to glance down at the sidewalk and saw a wasp lying there dead. It was right next to Main Street, and appeared as though it might have been struck by a vehicle, although damage to the creature's exoskeleton was not immediately obvious. I walked past a ways, then turned back to pick it up, thinking "I'll photograph this guy and put in on the blog somewhere." As I approached what I thought was the location of the wasp on the sidewalk, I found that what I was now looking at was a cicada, lying there with no apparent damage whatsoever. Looking around, I soon spotted the wasp I had seen, just a few feet away. An idea formed in my mind about why I was finding these two large insects lying so close to each other and out of commission. I surmised that the wasp was hauling a freshly caught cicada across Main Street, heading back to its burrow with the meal, when hunter and prey were hit by a vehicle. It made perfect sense. I picked the cicada up and examined it closely. There was not the least sign of injury to the insect; it was just lying there. This made sense, because the wasp paralyzes the cicada with a venomous sting but doesn't kill it. The animal appears dead but is actually just immobilized and quite alive. The female wasp (the males are supposedly stingless...I'm not sure I'm buying that one, either) hauls the living but helpless cicada down her burrow, lays her eggs on it, and when the baby wasps hatch — voilà! Instant cicada meal! It's as fresh as fresh gets, and even more convenient than frozen! No microwave needed!

 I cautiously picked up the wasp by one wing. Not much damage to the body, but the other large wing was missing about a third of its length. I believe these insects have two sets of wings; if so, she also had a severely messed up small wing on that side as well. And she was dead as a doornail, poor girl.

Here's her death portrait:

Clicking on this photo won't get you anywhere, either.

She's shown larger than life in the photo, but notice how relatively massive her body proportions are compared to other wasps, like this guy:

 Public domain photo.

She's built for hauling heavy loads, I'd say. And here's a photo of her together with the (probable) cargo:

That's pretty impressive, to be flying with something that I'd estimate weighs three to four times what she does.

No wonder wasps give me nightmares! Images like the following in the media don't help, either:

'Wasp Woman' images are apparently now in the public domain.

"A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN BY DAY —A LUSTING QUEEN WASP BY NIGHT." Sounds like a girl I used to date. For a wasp-creature, she's kind of attractive and looks a lot like Susan Cabot from the neck up. Who's the guy? He doesn't look like he's having a fun date at all.

This image is in the public domain.

The good folks at aircraft engine builder Pratt & Whitney had an ad that ran in a 1952 edition of the Saturday Evening Post which featured this great illustration of a Wasp-Turbine hybrid. Interestingly, P&W had an engine series named 'Wasp' but they weren't jet engines as shown here. Thanks to fellow blogger PhilAreGo! Read his description here.

That's all. I've gotta buzz off to bed.

A Miracle Needed...

What humanity needs is a religion/spiritual practice which teaches you to not be offended, angry or sad when you encounter people who don't believe the same way you do. Wouldn't that be a real miracle?

Inspiration #001

Having Buddhist leanings means that my take on spirituality will probably be a bit different from folks who are Christian or Muslim or Jewish or Hindu or Native American, etc. In fact, I used to think that I was “spiritual but not religious,” as they often said in my support groups. I felt this way for a long time. However, a couple of years ago I went to the trouble to actually look up the word “spiritual” to see what it really denotes. Well, it turns out that the word “spirituality,” logically enough, has its root in the word “spirit;” spirit denotes (according to most of the standard definitions I’ve read) the soul or supernatural spark which drives consciousness and the body. So spirituality is, in its most bedrock definition, concerned with the idea of a supernatural soul or eternal self. Well, as a Buddhist, I feel that I’ve seen the truth of anatta, or “no self,” which means that I don’t perceive of an unchanging, eternal “me” behind my experience and consciousness. No permanent spark (there may be a spark there, but its not permanent); no everlasting spirit. OK, but what about Truth...Beauty? I always felt that spirituality was the intimate friend of Truth and Beauty, that the epiphany which I perceived as part and parcel to the spiritual experience was concerned with the Supremely Aesthetic.

Apparently, I was wrong. Particularly in the Western, theistic religions, spirituality appears to mainly be concerned with man’s identification with a supernatural essence, bestowed upon him by God/Allah/Brahma/the Great Spirit. As nearly as I can tell, anything else beyond that is optional. This may explain why most spiritual literature of the Great Theisms leaves me cold. It seems that this idea of spirituality is mainly concerned with power (the personal identification with the All-Powerful, God) and clinging (to the idea that we must possess this great gift, this thing called the “spirit”); no matter how sincere and heartfelt the motivation. It just seems so trifling, so limited in scope, so unmindful of the real miracle happening right now, under our very noses. This miracle has nothing to do with the supernatural, or our supposed eternal souls, or all that high-blown power worship that passes for religious experience for many people.

I’ve decided to stop using the word spiritual to describe myself. The word is dead to me now; it’s no more meaningful to me than a cheap advertising slogan, now that I understand what it really points to. It’s too shallow and narrow to describe my experiences of profound connection to Just What Is.

Likewise, it’s tough for me to find much inspiration in writings that originated in the English language; very few in the English-speaking world appear to have experienced the same things that I have, nor to have interpreted them in the same way. Now, I know that this can’t be precisely true; reflection on our common experience tells me that at least a percentage of my fellow beings in this culture must be having the same profound “awakenings” I experience from time to time. Maybe this society’s overlay of Judeo-Christian theology and supernaturalism serves to suppress the expression of such culturally-unapproved experiences. However, sometimes I come across something that tells me that I’m not alone.

Here’s two small snippets of writing, from the English-speaking world, culled from my collection of inspirational things:

“What he actually said is that life is blissful, there’s joy everywhere ― only we’re closed off to it. His teachings were actually about opening up the joyful or blissful nature of reality. But the bliss and the joy are in the transitoriness. Do you see this glass? I love this glass...it holds the water admirably. When I tap it, it has a lovely ring; when the sun shines on it, it reflects the light beautifully. But when the wind blows and the glass falls off the shelf and breaks, or if my elbow hits it and it falls to the ground, I say ‘of course!’ But when I know that the glass is already broken, every minute with it is precious.” ―Mark Epstein in the documentary The Buddha (2010)

“I had always heard your entire life flashes in front of your eyes the second before you die. First of all, that one second isn't a second at all, it stretches on forever, like an ocean of time... For me, it was lying on my back at Boy Scout camp, watching falling stars... And yellow leaves, from the maple trees, that lined our street... Or my grandmother’s hands, and the way her skin seemed like paper... And the first time I saw my cousin Tony’s brand new Firebird... And Janie... And Janie... And... Carolyn. I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me... but it's hard to stay mad, when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it’s too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that’s about to burst... And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can’t feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life... You have no idea what I’m talking about, I’m sure. But don't worry... you will someday.” ―Lester Burnham (Kevin Spacey’s character) in the film American Beauty (1999)

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The Kwik Kar Archives: Maverick Turns to Mustang!

Back in 2003, I actually owned the Ford Maverick which appears in the upper left corner of this ad. Forget Mr. Haley's 'Stang, my Maverick was the Beast! Or not. But seriously, I recall being stopped at a light once, and a very young guy next to me rolled down his window and asked if my Maverick was a Ferrari. "Why...yes, YES IT IS a Ferrari! Wanna buy it?"

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The Kwik Kar Archives: Desperado Ducks!

Today's peek back into Kwik Kar of Weatherford history comes to us from March 15, 2005:

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The Kwik Kar Archives: The Anole!

Today's Kwik Kar of Weatherford Archived Ad hearkens back to June 7, 2005:

 

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Farewell to My Friend, Marni

I was perusing the website of one of our two local Weatherford papers, the Democrat, and as I often do, I made a quick pass through the Obits. Yes, I'm of that certain age when it's become important to see who has passed on recently.

So, I was saddened to see that Marni (Mockbee) Henderson had died last month of congestive heart failure. The notice showed up way late in the paper, not until just a few days ago, over three weeks since she left us. Lots of folks around here will be saddened at Marni's passing, as she was our barber. Really, she's the only steady barber I've had in Weatherford since I came here in '96, even though I've transgressed from time to time and hit one of the franchise shops (but only on those times when I was desperate and Marni happened to be closed). I've always gone back to Marni, my local independent businesswoman.

Marni was a good ol' Texas gal, and she knew everybody's business, but in an endearing and entertaining sort of way. If something interesting was happening in Parker County, you often heard about it first from Marni. Plus, the icing on the cake was that not only was she entertaining, she was actually good at cutting hair. That particular combination of attributes can be kind of rare here in small town Texas.

She was only 48 when she passed. She had had a stroke; it was in 2009, as I recall. However, she seemed to rebound quite well from it. But it was probably a portent of the future. Marni's health was apparently on a long downward slide. I'm trying to remember if she was a smoker; I seem to recall that she would step outside the shop from time to time to take a puff, but I wouldn't testify to that under oath. Of course, I was gone from Marni's world, due to my incarceration, between 2010 and late 2011 and couldn't keep up with her more recent health issues.

I saw her for the last time about four months ago. I had been back home in Weatherford for only about four months that day. She rolled on by me in her truck as I walked down York Avenue, and as she did, lowered the window and hollered at me that she was now working for another barbering establishment over on Palo Pinto. So, she had given up running her own shop! I waved and nodded my head to assure her that she would be seeing me again. But I was broke then, and store-bought haircuts would have to wait until my personal economy was on the rebound. Alas, the happy reunion never came.

Marni seemed almost destined for a bit shorter life than most of us enjoy. She had terrible luck with the male gender, in terms of getting a good specimen of lasting value. Her man Lee Henderson passed in 2008, also at age 48. I don't think it's a coincidence that she had the stroke just a few months later.

I know that she had gotten a new man in her life before I went away, but I can't recall his name, and I don't know if they were still together during her final days. But I assuage my sadness with the thought that she had plenty of loving kith and kin at her side when she left.

Adios, Marni.

Note: the photo of Marni Henderson was found on the Weatherford Democrat website; no photographer attribution was given. Text alteration was added by me. I will be happy to comply with a removal notice if contacted by the copyright holder to the original photographic image.

The Kwik Kar Archives: When Dachshunds Ruled the Earth!

This one's from February 3, 2004. Or maybe from February 3, 145 MILLION YEARS BC:

The small "movie credits" text at lower left reads:

A DEBBIE LINCOLN PRODUCTION of a DUSTY BRITTAIN FILM
'WHEN DACHSHUNDS RULED THE EARTH'
starring MEL GIBSON • CLORIS LEACHMAN • RUTGER HAUR and JACKIE CHAN as 'Charles'
Filmed in DACHS-O-SCOPE and glorious BLACK AND WHITE • Soundtrack available on NAUGHTY DOG RECORDS

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Kwik Kar of Weatherford — The Debbie Lincoln Project

Debbie Lincoln was a loyal client of mine from at least mid-1998 until 2008 (I'll have to check on the end date...I've slept since then). She and her husband Mike had the local Kwik Kar franchise in Weatherford, Texas. What was amazing about having Debbie as a client is that she (largely) loved my off-kilter sense of humor, had an amazing sense of the absurd all her own, and gave me largely free reign to inflict our senses of humor on the unsuspecting public of Parker County, Texas. Her and Mike's Kwik Kar franchise was wildly successful. Perhaps too successful, from my point of view, in that Kwik Kar of Weatherford attracted the attention of those who wanted in on the action and had the monetary means of making a serious attempt at doing so. Alas, the fine folks of Jiffy Lube made her and Mike an offer that was just too good to pass up, and they sold the business. I never even tried to approach the new Jiffy Lube owners about doing ads for them; I realized it probably just wouldn't be the same.

I haven't spoken to either Debbie or Mike in a couple of years, so I don't know what MIke's up to these days, but Debbie was always a painter, even when she ran her Kwik Kar franchise. She now seems to keep very busy at her painting, as evidenced by her blog here:

Now or Never: Debbie Lincoln's Blog

The Kwik Kar of Weatherford ads ran weekly in either the Parker County Shopper or the sadly defunct Parker County Advertiser, with occasional ads showing up in the Weatherford Democrat and various specialty publications like the Weatherford High School "Roos" booster programs.

In fond remembrance of Debbie and Mike (and Kibble the Wonder Pomeranian and the entire Kwik Kar Crew), and the amazingly fun advertising we did over those years, I hereby dedicate a portion of my blog to posting reproductions of some of the ads. I take no responsibility whatsoever for any effect these have on you.

Our inaugural ad is from January 7, 2003.

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The Obligatory Full Disclosure Blog Post

I think it’s proper and fitting that I should disclose at least a bit of who I am, and of my background and history, so that you are aware of what many would call my “world view,” how I perceive reality and the world and other people, and process all this information in my mind. Like every other human being on this planet, the way I perceive – and react – to my environment is colored to a great degree by my personal history, the people I interact with, and the Great Ideas which have survived across the ages, which influence me and other people today.

First off: I’m old. Not real old, but old enough that I think seriously about how much time I have left in this body. It’s served me well, despite all the abuse I’ve dished out to it over the years. But one day, not too terribly long from now, it will fail me. I vow to arrive at that day with gratitude, humility and equanimity.

I was born miraculously. Yes, miraculously, because I had the great good fortune to be born a sentient being in the dominant species (Homo sapiens) on a wonderfully diverse, beautiful planet (Earth). Even better, I was born into arguably the most powerful tribe/race/ethnic group/subspecies (caucasoid of northern European stock) of my kind on the planet, into arguably the wealthiest and most powerful human society (the United States of America) on this Earth. And to top it all off – as if this wasn’t enough already – I was born male, the gender which most everyone would agree enjoys the lion’s share of privilege and power in most human societies, particularly the one I found myself born into. How did this miracle, this amazing chain of events that led to my becoming, occur? Those people around me, in what psychologists and sociologists call my “social sphere,” have many ideas about how such a thing could occur. I have my own ideas, which I’ll speak of from time to time. But not in this post. Not now.

I was born into a Methodist Christian family, in the state of Illinois, in the 1950’s. I am now a Buddhist. Yes, you’ll hear more on this topic in later posts. Notice that I didn’t say that I’m a “good Buddhist.” I’m not. I wouldn’t set a particularly good example for any particular religion/philosophy/organization/lifestyle. However, I do think that stretches of my life story can be educational, informative, or even – dare I say it? – motivational for some others. But I don’t know. If there is something you find useful, from time to time, in what I write – then I’m happy for this.

I am deeply distrustful of theists (people who believe in a God or gods) who are organized into political or social organizations. However, I have theist friends and family members who I deeply adore, including my own wife, who is Catholic Christian. Individual Christians and Muslims and Jews (and theists in general) are fine with me when considered as individuals, but I feel that history has ably documented that when theists get together to do anything other than worship, bad things happen. I have been discriminated against in this culture because of my involvement in a minority religion. I was once fired from a job because of my spiritual views and religious practice (the boss was a Nazarene Christian). One religious congregation I was involved with had a bomb threat telephoned in, back in the 80’s. I feel I’m not sticking my neck out at all when I speculate that it wasn’t an atheist who phoned that day. By the way, when not around other Buddhists, I find that I am often most comfortable being around atheists or agnostics. But don’t let that scare you away, because if anything, I’m a good listener and open to other people’s ideas about reality. Your reality might not match my reality, but I’m highly interested in it, just the same. I am a student of the human mind and human behavior.

I have exhibited what this culture terms “mental illness” off and on, since the age of 12. I have been diagnosed by mental health professionals at various times with Major Depression, Bipolar Disorder, and Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. My thinking about my own psychology, and how I view my own thoughts, emotions and behavior, has changed over the years. Of course you’ll see postings which address this subject from time to time! I promise to try my best to do them without boring you.

Despite the (apparently) obvious flaws in my mental processes, I feel that I have a better-than-average brain/mind. How do I come to this conclusion? Other people have told me this. Enough people that it adds up to a body of evidence. Of course, my own ego tells me that I’m creative and smart, but having other people observe this and relate their observations to me makes me feel comfortable with my own ideas. Even good! Famed psychotherapist Albert Ellis, the father of so-called “cognitive therapy,” indicated that this process of comparing our own ideas with the perceptions of others was an important component of what he called “reality testing.” If my self-perception seems to differ consistently and radically with others’ perception of me, I probably need to re-evaluate my thinking. I know – it sounds very circular, doesn’t it, to “think about my thinking.” But it’s very helpful for me. That’s one important reason why I’m happy to have folks post their comments on the blog. Your thinking about my thinking just might get me thinking in a new way. As Ellis would say: Fine!

I have a history of substance abuse. Apparently, from what both mental health professionals and substance abuse recovery professionals have told me, that’s par for the course for people like myself who have exhibited significant mental health issues for long periods of time. Still, I’m skeptical of the “disease model” of addiction, because not only does it not hold up very well under the usual criteria used by the medical community to diagnose disease, I feel it provides a convenient excuse to avoid helpful consideration of the individual’s thinking, emotions and behavior which lead to the substance abuse problem. Therefore, even though I am legally obligated to attend a so-called “Twelve Step” support group (and cheerfully do so each and every week), I do not follow the path endorsed by this group to recover from addiction/abuse. I have my own way, based on the psychological and spiritual teachings of my religious tradition, which has a 2,500-year record of helping the psychologically afflicted with all sorts of problems, not just substance abuse.

I feel that I normally “manifest” (I’m using that word in a specifically Buddhist way, but I think even non-Buddhists will understand) as a happy, cheerful, friendly, inquisitive, creative and smart 18-year-old in a 56-year-old body. That’s my own assessment. Sure, there’s ego influencing that assessment. I feel I started out as what psychologists call “high functioning” but my emotional development might have stopped at around age 18 or so. I suffer from introversion and a certain amount of anxiety in social situations, although you might have a tough time telling so, to see me in a social setting. I’m still developing psychologically, I feel. Substance abuse counselors will tell you that you stop developing emotionally when you start abusing drugs or alcohol. That’s an extremely interesting idea, which I had not come across until recently. If true, I’ve developed in bits and spurts over the decades, with stretches of sobriety interspersed with stretches of usage. I’m taking the idea under consideration. I never stop learning, never. When I stop learning, that means I’m dead.

I’ve harmed loved ones, at times. Both physically and emotionally. This is the deepest regret of my life so far. Perhaps I’m fortunate in that they’ve not felt the need to completely, permanently withdraw from me, but what I’ve done in the past is bad enough that I shouldn’t feel resentful were they to do so. I have created enormous bad karma for myself through thought and action, to take a Buddhist perspective on it. I have no doubt delayed my own entry into Nibbana, the state beyond suffering, but for how long? I have no idea.

I don’t expect you to accept, or particularly even understand, anything that I present to you on these pages. I feel that we have no right to expect any other sentient being to completely understand or completely agree with what we think, feel, believe or experience. Instead, we should react with gratitude should this unlikely and rare event transpire. This is the only true miracle that I’ve ever experienced in this life―when minds meet.

Oh, one last thing that is important for you to know about me, but will be difficult for many of you to understand and even more difficult to accept: I like critters. Even cats. :)

Greetings! Hola! Sawasdee Krab!

This blog is my very first blog.

Several questions immediately present themselves: What is a "blog"? What does it mean to blog? What is the blogger's correct relationship to his online social sphere? And to society at large? And lastly, why the hell do I ask all these questions?

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In order to start things out on a positive note, I hereby proclaim to all and sundry that I will strive to maintain an atmosphere of unpredictability and paradoxically reverent irreverence on this blog at all times. So help me. And for those whom I might offend, I offer this form(al) apology in advance:

(Formal Apology courtesy of Bureau of Communication. Check out their site...they offer a book chock full of these humorous forms. It's howlingly funny, especially if you're the type of person who might actually send one of these. I know that I am! And I'll bet you never even realized there was such a thing as Form Satire, did you?)