Tag Archives: retirement

national news

Happy Trails, Part 22

INTERSTATE 64, W. Va. — This might be one of the most beautiful stretches of interstate highway in the United States of America.

It reminds me of driving through Bavaria in southern Germany, which my wife and I were able to do this past September. Lush mountains tower over the roadway, which crosses many substantial rivers.

But I noticed something while blazing along the highway through West Virginia and neighboring Virginia that I want to mention here.

Many miles of interstate highway in both states — as well as in Tennessee and Kentucky — are named in memory of individuals. All of the signs we noticed identified the honorees as males. Many of the signs contained ranks next to the names: sergeant, deputy, sergeant major, trooper, officer, lieutenant, captain, Medal of Honor recipient, etc. You get the idea, right?

I was struck also by the belief that each of those names has a story. The “memorial bridge” or “memorial highway” is named in honor of someone who likely died in the line of duty or in service to the country.

The question I posed to my wife was this: Why not erect plaques near the sign identifying the right-of-way that tells us the story behind the name?

I’m not necessarily interested in knowing the details of how the individual died. But they have a story of their public service that might be interested in telling.

Who would stop and read such signage? I might.

Indeed, I once wrote a story for NewsChannel 10.com about the vast array of historical markers scattered throughout Texas and I interviewed a fellow named Michael Grauer, who is an official with the Panhandle/Plains Historical Museum in Canyon. Grauer identified himself as an avid “historical marker reader.” He said whenever it’s remotely possible he’ll stop while traveling and read about a marker that commemorates a historical event that happened near where it’s posted along a Texas highway.

I doubt anyone in authority in these states that honor the individuals will take this suggestion seriously. There might not be money in states’ budgets to pay for plaques telling the honorees’ stories. Location might be an issue.

As we continue to wind our way across the country, though, ideas like this seem worth the effort to pass along.

national news

Happy Trails, Part 21

GOODLETTSVILLE, Tenn. — Our retirement journey has taken us to the Country Music Capital of the Known Universe.

That would be Nashville, home of the Grand Ol’ Opry, the Ryman Auditorium, The Hermitage and hordes of people having a good time.

Our campsite was in a ‘burb about 10 miles or so north of the big city. It’s crowded, but the folks on all sides of us are wonderfully nice, accommodating and, in some cases, willing to accept our help when they pull in. We’ve had to move our big ol’ pickup a couple of times to make room.

One of the RV campsite owners ventured by to ask if there’s anything she could do. I said no. We were fine. But I asked: “Do the folks over there, right next to the railroad tracks, get a break because of the train noise?” Her answer: “What train?” which was her way of saying, “Nope, they don’t get a break on the price.”

That’s really all right. We were camped about 200 feet from the tracks and to be candid, by the second night we managed to tune out the roar of the locomotives barreling through on the high-speed tracks.

I’m glad to be shoving off on our way to Washington, D.C., where more adventures await as we visit a couple of family members. Why? This weekend figures to be utter bedlam in Music City, where Nashville is playing host to two huge events: the Country Music Awards festival downtown and Game 6 of the Stanley Cup playoff between the Nashville Predators and the Pittsburgh Penguins.

We ventured down there with friends we met here on a weekday afternoon, with people still at work. I’m trying to fathom the chaos that will ensue on Friday night — and then the next night when they play that hockey game at the arena downtown.

I’m going to pray for them all.

Meanwhile, our adventure continues — elsewhere.

local news, Uncategorized

Happy Trails, Part 20

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SAYRE, Okla. — We have discovered a feature of RV travel that we didn’t expect to find.

It’s called “Public RV” camping.

We discovered it in this community that sits precisely midway between Amarillo and Oklahoma City. We camped at a city-run park that just happens to have about 60 RV campsites. Some of them are pull-through sites, which is our strongly preferred type; they have water and electricity; we get decent antenna TV reception.

And we paid all of $12 for our overnight stay. Twelve whole American dollars! 

We have discovered this form of RV camping while scouring through our huge directory of campsites across the country.

My wife and I have made pact that we’re going to look for this kind of campsite as we continue our trek across North America.

We aren’t too big into those fancy-schmancy RV “resorts.” People are packed too tightly into some of them we’ve seen. We prefer a more “rustic” setting to park our fifth wheel.

We do use our Texas state park pass that gets into our state’s parks for free; sure, we pay for nightly use, but the pass waives our entry fee.

Sayre’s park is actually quite nice. It’s clean, well-manicured, well-lit, pet-friendly.

It’s also inexpensive. We fixed-income travelers appreciate that aspect of “public RV” camping most of all.

State news

Happy Trails, Part 19

You might know already that I am a big fan of the Texas Parks & Wildlife Department.

TP&W runs our state parks. The park system offers a nice perk to those of us who live in Texas. We are able to purchase a pass that enables us to enjoy the parks without paying an entrance fee, which isn’t steep by any means, but it adds up over time if you use the parks frequently.

My wife and I now are fully retired. We’ve been spending a lot more of our time sleeping in our recreational vehicle. Thus, we are pulling our RV to state parks around the state and are enjoying the parks without having to shell out entrance fees every time we arrive at park entrances.

As we ramp up our RV use, we intend to make ample use of our state parks.

I’ve griped long and loud over many years about Texas government. I am, though, a big fan of the state’s park system. We have a couple of first-class parks in the Panhandle: Palo Duro Canyon and Caprock Canyons. We haven’t yet hauled our RV onto the floor of PD Canyon, but we have stayed at Caprock Canyons and have enjoyed the park immensely.

Later this summer, we’re going to camp at Lake Arrowhead State Park near Wichita Falls, Lake Bob Sandlin State Park east of Dallas and Village Creek State Park in the Big Thicket in Deep East Texas. We’ve already discovered several other state parks: Goose Island in Rockport, Garner in Uvalde, Lake Casa Blanca in Laredo, San Angelo State Park, Stephen F. Austin near Houston, Balmorhea near the Davis Mountains.

Am I a cheerleader for the state’s public park system? You bet I am. I encourage everyone I can think of to use the parks. They’re a treasure that make me proud of my state.

We’ve only just begun to enjoy them.

national news

This reunion thing can get maddening

I am blessed beyond measure with wisdom that comes from members of my immediate family.

My frame of reference is my wife and my two sons.

One of them offered me a bit of wisdom this weekend that is giving me serious pause about whether I should attend a reunion of my high school graduating class.

It’s the 50-year reunion that is coming up in October. I had leaned against attending. As of this moment, I’m back on the fence. Totally neutral. I have indicated to close friends that I could be “talked into” going.

My wife and I attended my 10-year reunion in 1977; I flew back for my 30-year reunion in 1997 — and I hated almost every minute of it. I vowed then I wouldn’t return for any subsequent reunions. The 40-year reunion occurred without me. I had no regrets about staying away.

But then my son and I had a conversation this weekend that went something like this:

Me: You know, of course, that I am thinking about whether I want to go to my 50-year high school reunion.

Son: Yes, I know. I also know that you aren’t too keen on going.

Me: That’s right.

Son: Let me offer this bit of advice. You said your 30-year reunion was a bummer, that you hated it. I think the reason was that you went alone. Mom wasn’t there. You also set the bar too high. Why not just go this next reunion with Mom, see your friends, have a good time — and then go do whatever you want to do with Mom?

Do you see what I mean about wisdom? I’ve never told my sons that I was the knower of all knowledge. I’ve always had an open mind to whatever advice either of them — along with my wife — were willing to give me.

My wife and I now are retired. We purchased a fifth wheel recreational vehicle, which we tow behind a big ol’ pickup. Were we to go, we likely would haul our RV to Portland, Ore., where we both graduated from high school.

As I understand it, our Parkrose High School class of 1967 is planning a dinner in October at a hotel near Portland International Airport. We could attend the dinner, have some laughs, get caught up; my wife knows a couple of my classmates — one quite well, the other not nearly so.

Then we could say goodbye. Go back to our RV, visit some family and a few of our many other friends we have in the city of my birth.

Then we would be on our way to, oh, destinations to be determined.

I won’t set the bar too high. I won’t seek to rekindle relationships that I learned at the 30-year reunion did not exist in the first place.

Hmm. I am now thinking carefully about the wisdom I received from my son. That reunion is beginning to beckon — and I am beginning to pay attention.

I’ll keep you posted.

local news

Happy Trails, Part 18

You are likely aware that a move is in our future. We’ll be departing Amarillo — our home for more than 20 years — for an undetermined location somewhere in the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex.

I’ve made you aware as well of our desire to live near our beautiful, precious granddaughter. Our friends tell us, “That’s the best reason I can think of” to make such a big change in our lives.

But there’s this slight quandary that has nothing to do with our granddaughter. It has everything to do with this blog.

What am I going to call it?

I came up with “High Plains Blogger” because (a) our location here on the High Plains of Texas and (b) I am a big Clint Eastwood fan and the title of the blog reminds me of “High Plains Drifter.”

I wrote an item earlier in which I suggested I might keep the name in spite of our relocation. I’m leaning farther away from that option.

I’ve actually come up with a potential, possible name for this collection of musings. I’m a bit reluctant to tell you now what it is. I think I’ll wait just a little while.

My intention is to have the title reflect the nature of the blog, which is to provide me a forum to share my view of politics and public policy. I want to share my own acknowledged bias.

My quandary over the name change is heightened just a bit because “High Plains Blogger” has gained some traction with those who read these posts regularly. I don’t want the blog to lose that traction. I am afraid of “spinning my wheels.”

I am grateful for those who comment positively on the opinions I share in this blog. I also am grateful for the critics who keep me humble. I expressed that gratitude for critics repeatedly during my lengthy career in daily print journalism.

Retirement has taken me in its embrace. I am enjoying the time I get to spend writing this blog.

It’s just this name-change thing that’s giving me a bit of heartburn. I’ll get over it.

national news

Awaiting a joyful reunion

I am in a reminiscing frame of mind this evening … so I believe I will share a memory with you.

Eight years ago this week, some friends and I embarked on a four-week journey through Israel. We were part of a Rotary International Group Study Exchange team. I had the honor of leading that team, which comprised myself and four young professionals who would get to share their work experiences with colleagues in Israel.

We all formed lasting friendships with each other, as well as with members of a Rotary team from The Netherlands that joined us on that Holy Land excursion.

We got to see that marvelous country while living in host families’ homes. They were part of a Rotary district that took part in the exchange with our West Texas Rotary district. The essence of the trip was to expose us to life in Israel as seen through those who call that country home.

Not only did we make lasting friendships among our team members, we made friendships with our hosts.

Here’s the really cool news: Very soon, my wife and I are going to hook up with one of those host families. A couple with whom I stayed in Israel is traveling to the United States to attend a Rotary International Conference in Atlanta. Before that, though, they’re going to Nashville, Tenn., for a little sightseeing before heading deeper into Dixie.

My wife hasn’t yet had the pleasure of meeting Alon and Sari, with whom I stayed in Lehavim, a town near Be’er Sheva, which is on the edge of the Judean Desert in Israel. I am absolutely certain she will fall in love with them as I did during our time together.

Indeed, we not too long ago reconnected with a couple of my fellow Dutch exchange members while on vacation in Europe. That, too, was a marvelous reunion.

Our plan this time is simple. We’ll load up our fifth wheel RV, hook it up to the rear of our pickup and get on down the road eastward toward Nashville. I’ll get to reconnect with people I met in their homeland and they in turn will get to get a taste of Americana.

Oh, how I love it when friendships become strong enough to last over lengthy distances and over spans of time.

local news

Happy Trails, Part 17

Retirement life has provided a surprise or two along the way. But we’re coping.

One of them, though, keeps nagging us.

It’s the notion that we no longer have to wait for “the weekend” to do whatever the heck we want.

Every now and then, my wife and I discuss our next excursion, whether it’s just in town, or to a nearby community, or even in the next state. We lapse without thinking into this former working-life mindset about waiting for the weekend.

Then it dawns on us: Hey, we don’t have to wait! We can go whenever we feel like it!

You fellow retirees know of what I am speaking, I’m sure.

I’m reminded of something my sister once told me. She and her husband also are retired. She told me how she chuckles when someone says to them, “Have a nice weekend.” She and her husband exchange knowing glances, she told me.

What do they know? It’s that every day is a weekend.

Now I get it.

local news, media news

Happy Trails, Part 16

I’m still trying to shake myself loose from my previous life as a working stiff, but a brief encounter today illustrated how difficult that task remains.

I walked into the polling place this morning to vote in the Amarillo municipal and Amarillo College election. I presented the voting judge my voting registration card and my driver’s license (with photo ID that’s now required).

He looked it over, signed me and said, “Oh, you’re with the newspaper.”

“Um, no. I used to be,” I answered. “I left the Globe-News nearly five years ago,” I explained. “I guess you haven’t missed me,” I joked. He chuckled and said, rather sheepishly, “I don’t read the paper.”

“Well,” I said, “neither do I.”

This is the kind of greeting I get from time to time as I conduct daily business here. My job as Opinion page editor of the Globe-News more or less defined me in the eyes of many folks who read the paper and saw my name on the Opinion page masthead.

That’s all great. At some level I do appreciate the recognition that comes my way. Everyone who brings up my recent past is gracious, kind, some are complimentary; others say something like, “Oh, I often disagreed with you, but I always read your stuff.”

My wife and I are still in the midst of this transition from full-time work to full-time retirement. The transition is progressing along many fronts. The most critical of them is our on-going effort to prepare to commence to get ready to relocate.

When that task is completed, hopefully sooner rather than later, we’ll be resettled in a new community where no one knows us from the past we have left behind. We’ll greet everyone for the first time and no one — except for family members who will live nearby — will know what either of us used to do for a living.

I look forward to completing that journey.

local news

Happy Trails, Part 15

I don’t get this question very often, but I have heard it from a few of my friends: What hobbies are you going to be able to enjoy now that you’re retired?

Hobbies? I am not a hobby kind of guy.

I am not a hunter or much of a fisherman. I like to hike in the wild, which my wife and I do together … but I don’t consider “hiking” to be a hobby. I don’t play board games and I haven’t played a hand of poker since I was in the Army a century or two ago.

If pressed to declare a hobby, I’m going to say that I am doing it at this very minute. I am writing this blog, which I suppose you could call a hobby, given that I enjoy it greatly.

Some of my better friends have handed me compliments over the volume of blogs I post daily. “You are so damn prolific,” said one of my dearest friends, who lives in Portland, Ore., with her husband and son. I tell her, “Well, it’s what I do.”

I don’t intend to let up on pursuing this hobby of mine even as my wife and I get deeper into full-time retirement.

I’ve griped at times about the Internet and what it has done to the industry where I worked for 37 years. Newspapers are struggling to find their way as the Internet takes bigger bites out of daily print circulation. Newspaper publishers are looking for business models that allow them to keep making money while changing to a “digital presence.”

The Internet, though, does provide yours truly a forum to keep writing — some would say “spewing” — opinions about this and/or that public policy issue.

I won’t limit the blog to those matters. I want to comment also on “life experience,” which more or less is what this post is all about.

I guess retirees need hobbies to keep them fresh and reasonably alert. Therefore, I’ll keep writing this blog.