Living in the Wild West

This photo is taken at a wild west exhibit when I was about 2 or 3. The woman with my mother and me is my Grandmother, Dorothy Evans King. She raised me (along with Grandpa, Ones Presley King or O.P.) My mom and I went to live with them after the divorce. I now refer to her as 6-foot-tall Grandma, to differentiate her from any other grandmas. She was the third wife, fourth marriage (Grandpa married one of his wives twice) for O.P. King. Boy, could she cook! Cornbread and red beans and Grandpa making steaks- yum.

Yesterday, we went to the cemetery to visit their graves. My Grandpa actually has a figure of a football player on his cemetery marker (He was a huge Dallas Cowboys fan, of course). I took a photo of it for later. Only in Texas…

Throughout my childhood, and on subsequent visits, the Texas weather in the winter has always been temperate. From time to time it is cold, but usually in January and February. I have lots of photos of Christmas Day, me on a new bicycle, with no coat on.

Today it is 17 degrees with whipping wind, ice and snow (just a little, but that’s all it takes), and I did not bring a coat.

When I went to sleep last night there were only a few cars in the parking lot of the hotel. Now the parking lot is full. There were over 100 serious accidents yesterday during the evening commute, and there are already many this morning. They are closing all the off ramps and the public schools are closed.

They do not have salt for the roads, just dirt. Remember, W is from here. Can you say ‘unprepared’?

If I am lucky, I will stay in all day. We got most of the important things done through yesterday. Today I am going to enter all my mother’s medications into a database and select her suggested Medicare Part D plan. That is my good deed for the day. If it clears up, my mother wants to go to Wal-Mart, which I have so far managed to avoid, but I see no way out of that one.

Dick Wood

And now, a few words about my late father, Dick Wood. My father was stationed at Perrin Airforce Base in Sherman, Texas in the late 1950s. He was always involved in acting, singing and public speaking, so he took a job as a Disc Jockey on the local top 40 station, KDSX AM. He was originally from Wollaston, Massachusetts and did later return there. This is why I am living in Massachusetts today. But I digress... My mother was working at the radio station writing ads and doing other clerical and support work when she met my dad. Knowing them both, I cannot imagine how they became a couple. Neither could they, apparently, as they divorced when I was 4 years old.

Today my mother and I went to Denison, Texas (birthplace of President Dwight D. Eisenhower) and we were in the old downtown area. Mom pointed to the old Rialto Theater, and said "Your Dad used to do Rock and Roll Shows there". Well, I was thrilled, as I have this photo and always wondered what the origin was. It was always a big deal for me as a child when my dad would send songs out to me on the radio. My favorites were "Downtown" by Petula Clark, and "The Addams Family Theme". Every year, we got to ride in the KDSX "Mobile News Unit" car with the big fins in the Christmas Parade in Sherman. I believe this is the reason I became such a groupie in general, and the reason I love having my celebrity Christmas cards each year. Oh, and this year is a good one, so keep looking for it in your maibox :)

Welcome to Texas, Love, Mama

My mother and I have a sort of role reversal thing going on. But I still want her to take care of me in any little way she can. The limits of this are constantly being tested.

My mother lives in senior citizen housing. As part of the annual review of her lease and to assess her rent, we needed to bring her bank statements and a photo of her cat, along with proof of rabies vaccination. The cat’s name is “Mama” and my mother took her in as a feral cat. She has lived with her for 5 years.

Mom had borrowed a cat carrier and asked me to come over and put the cat in it so we could go to the vet. I told her that the cat did not know me, so it made more sense to me for her to do it, but she said that she could not, “That cat is too strong”. So I arrived at the apartment, where she had the cat in the bathroom with the door closed.

I entered, making sweet cat noises (kissing sounds) and saying “Come here kitty, it’s ok”- I picked up the cat, who was hiding in the shower. She went berserk.

I thought that I was good with cats. I am wrong about feral Texas cats. The cat shredded my hands and bit me repeatedly. I yelled to my mother to get me a towel. I tried to wrap the cat in it. Nothing worked. I was bleeding onto the floor at this point, and the cat gave me a final deep bite to my left pinkie finger. I gave up and let go.

I went into the bathroom and started furiously washing the scratches and bites with warm water and soap. My mother said “You will just explain to the Housing Authority”, I said “Mom! I need to some first aide here! I need to go to the doctor and get a tetanus shot! I’m hurt! The hell with the cat and the hell with the Housing Authority!”. She, equating the lack of a certificate with instant homelessness could not concentrate on my well being. And I, equating her lack of immediate sympathy for me as a sign that she did not care about me, escalated. I asked (yelling) her to get me a very clean towel and a bag of ice. “I don’t have any plastic bags”, she said.

“You have NO plastic bags? How is that possible?” She replied, “I have garbage bags, do you want one of those?” Trying to calm down, I said “Yes, mother, that will be fine”. Then the power went out to the complex. I could not see anything in the bathroom. We decided to leave, with my hands wrapped in a large, green garbage bag with 6 cubes of ice in the corner, and a towel.

We got into my rental car. Mom said “Before we go anywhere I need to get me some cigarettes”.

I told her that I did not care about the cigarettes, the cat or the Housing Authority. We drove to the walk-in clinic. They cleaned and dressed my hands, gave me a tetanus shot and a prescription for antibiotics. Much discussion about rabies ensued. The cat (through my brother’s efforts) has had a rabies vaccination every year. We left and went to the Housing Authority with my hands wrapped like a burn victim’s. They reminded us that we needed to come back with a photo of the cat and proof of vaccination. My mother remained worried about eviction.

I called my brother, Michael. He came over, picked the cat up by the scruff of the neck and put her in the carrier. We took her to the vet and nobody had any trouble with her, they clipped her nails and everything. This morning, I woke up with my left pinkie finger hot and numb. An interesting name for the cat: “Mama”.

My Mother

As part of my visit to Texas this week, I am going back in time a bit to the formative years of both my mother and me.
My mother, Yvonne King Wood, is seen here in this photo when she was 16 years old. The unidentified date will forever remain a mystery. They are walking in El Paso, Texas, and this would be about 1952. I like this photo because my Mom seems confident to me, just walking along... also very pretty, I think.

these are the coolest (a small film which is true)

http://www.snopes.com/photos/arts/xmaslights.asp

on the precipice of Texas

You know what they say; "Texas: Its like a whole other country"

I prepare for going to Texas, and I am trying to come up with a list of things to do. Its not like Dallas isn't an interesting place, but Sherman is another story. Its so... limited? That is not really describing it the right way. I think it is best to try and describe it during the week I am there. Here is the list of things I can do to make it interesting:

Go to the Red River Museum
Eat good Mexican Food
Drive by my old neighborhood
Visit the antique stores downtown
Spend time with my nieces and nephew

And, take photos for this blog....