BACK ON THE TRAIL WITH JOHN HENRY & JACK LONG

   

      After  being  run out of Canada by the Mounties for being wrongly accused  of being a couple of horse thieves, John Henry and Jack Long, found comfort high in the upper Plains of Montana to settle into a well desired rest from the trail. 

        Now that we had some time to reflex on the past few weeks that brought us here, I had time to think about our time together. I met John on a Cattle Drive that brought him to Oklahoma, then on the return trip
I ran into him in a Saloon know for the gathering of many cowhands just off the trail from their recent roundups. It certainly lent it's name to the Rowdy and Reckless, men that often come off the trail to shed dust off themselves and drink enough to help satisfy the over whelming thirst that they gathered on the trail. I noticed  one man that stood out on his own, looked as if he was savoring his drink not wanting anything else but to be alone. It didn't take long for one of them drunkin' cowboys to fall into his direction, practically landing on John. The man then commenced to shove and push him aside, telling him to get out of his way. No sooner did the drunk get straighten up, then John took one good swing to drop him to his knees, then turned back to the bar to finish his drink. Well that 'ol drunk wouldn't take that to lightly and thought he had the upper hand. As he rose back up to the bar, he slid his hand down along his side to grip his pistol. John, as it turned out was no stranger to these situations, and already had his Pearl Handled Colt half drawn, and before you could say..'son of a bitch'...John had his gun tucked ever so tightly up against the mans ear. At that point the man seemed to sober up rather fast and backed slowly away.
   It wasn't until years later after getting to  know Henry...I called him Henry..he called me 'Jack-ass'...that at any other time that 'ol drunk would have been another resident in Boot Hill.
   So there stood Henry, back enjoying his drink. Well I thought, shit I could use a guy like that to partner-up on some of my Trail riding jobs. They consisted of dealing with rounding up wild Horses, to herding a few hundred head of cattle to Auction, to guiding Wagon Trains West from points East where hungry immigrants, were wantoned to start a new life.
   I started to walk toward him, ever so slowly, since I could detect that he was not a fan to strangers, and after what I saw, I pretty much knew that already. Sure enough I didn't get two feet away when I saw his right hand side slowly down toward his Holster. I stopped abruptly I just turn to the bar and asked the bartender to set me and my friend here...motioning to Henry on my left...a couple of drinks. For a minute there you could hear a pin drop, but then all of a sudden, Henry broke out in huge laughter, and said, who the Fuck are you calling friend..?!!
   Well I thought at that point I sorta had broken the ice of communication, and proceeded to introduce myself by extending my hand to show no harm and to show him I was pretty much harmless. Henry with his long white beard & Silver hair flowing over his shoulder, brushed it back, and asked who the Hell did I think I was coming over here to interrupt him while he was not only drinking, but that..didn't I just  witness what happen to the last guy....I apologized, and commenced to explain to him why I took that chance. That alone must have convinced him to have a drink with me, since he didn't say another word until I finished and he had drank almost a half a bottle of Whiskey.
   When he finally spoke, all he said was when do we leave, not a mention of pay or where the Hell we were going, we both just turned around and walked out the door, jumped on our Horses, and never looked back. That was ten or so years ago, and we've been on a few good jobs and a few bad ones, but none of them ever waiver our friendship.

   Now here we are on top of some Mountain, ready to start another job with no doubt some adventure thrown in the mix. No time to think about the last job, just to move on to the next, knowing all too well as long as Henry is by my side, as a friend that he has been, it will get done.
  

Spending a few years on Bank Street one fine Sping day.....late in the 1970's

   I took a ride down to New Milford on this clear & crisp day, enjoying an early Spring with a chance to ride with the top down on my Mustang. I was on my way to Bank Street with hopes of running into a few people that I wanted to see & talk to about my next Music Festival held at Warren Woods. The first went over so well, that I figured why not keep it going. So first of all I went to my friends shop: In From The Storm, to hang out w Candy, the owner, and Ceil who worked there, along w another Blonde Beauty, Dawn. Neither of whom happened to be there at the time, which was just as well, since I didn't want to get distracted while forming ideas in my head about the Festival, I was always forming ideas in my head about those two.
    Candy, not being undone by her looks also, was gracious enough to keep me busy, talking about the night before at the Pub, where N.Y. Chalk had played, once again to a most deserving  crowd, and as usual could not get enough. I was ready to have them appear again at Warren Woods, along with some other local favorites. White Lightning, of course, pickin' & Fiddlein' with Big Dougy Bear, Bruce Canovaro & with Shrdlu stepping in once in a while with his dynamic Harp playing. Also with some luck Stormin' Norman & Suzy would also show up. Dimitry said that was in play. As it turned out Big Dougy was across the street , standing in the doorway of the music shop tuning a six string for a fellow player, while Shrdlu pranced & danced up & down Bank Street joyously playing  his mouth harp. Of course that wasn't that unusual for him, as most days that's where you would find him...during the days, at night on stage along with Tony....T.G..& the band. As I wandered over to meet & greet, a loud...HEY NAAAATE, rang out above the Theater, and no other than P.J. was at her best form standing next to Tony & Denise. I returned with my best..P  JJJJJJJAY, at the top of my lungs.It was a common-uncommon greeting we both did when encountering each other.
   After a brief hello to to Doug & confirming the date to play, I then went up to the Bank Street Theater where I was to meet with Rocky, the owner & Dimitry to go over scheduling for the up coming events, that might bring me to do a show at the Theater. Also Dimi & I were to go to the local radio station, I-95, to do a promo for the Festival.
    When I left there, I was heading cross-block to the Mobil Station, where I could meet up with Tom Barry, my partner in crime, & Mike Frisbee, who did such a fantastic job on the Art Work for all the posters,  fliers, tickets & the Logo for my new Sweetstone Productions endever. They were a piece of Art in itself.
    Before rounding the corner of Bank & Main, I had to stick my head in at Joe's Barber to get in a quick 'hello' to the girls that worked there & the owner, who by no means you would mistake as a 'Joe'!!
    I preceded to the gas station to see my 'ol friends Tom & Micheal. we had a great time chatting up the 'Party', that would eventually encompass our lives in more ways then we could have seen coming.

    I  reflex on those days more times than not, especially now with so much time pasted, & also the many friends that have  pasted ...the dreams of doing another 'party' has always crossed my mind through out the years..but I realize there will never be another 'Mini- Woodstock' in my future, I'm just happy to have the memories of the parties & people that I have encountered in my life time.

TAKE A WALK WITH YOU FATHER ...A TRIBUTE

     I'm Mad, I'm Frustrated, I'm Sad.....to go through a week with the full Moon shining so brightly on this wonderful place we call home . But yet, sadness  fills  the air to find that we have lost two dear friends. I'm feel that frustration has taken a big part of me when 'they' said that life ain't that easy, it's just what we do with it that determines if 'easy' really plays a part in it. I'm also mad that in this public space that we all get a chance to speak our mind, some take advantage, to still remark on political subjects that when all said & done, not much can be done ,now that we are out of any election process. It is the time to move on and let it be, the only thing that happens is that it brings a Negative thought process out, and that would be unhealthy for the mind.So I ask any that are involved in such practice, please refrain & try to keep the Lines open for more positive thought's.
    I know a lot of you watch N.C.I.S. Last night might have struck a nerve or two. As we watched agent Tim McGee reunite with his father. The last scene shows them walking together, talking, & wondering what the next step will be, now that he has found out that his father is dieing of Cancer. For me personally, I could only reflect on the time my father & I walked through an empty Camp Grounds where I grew up & he was a be part of keeping the peace with all the strangers that pasted through every week, and doing so with a bit of dignity & humor. Always staying on the lighter side of life. He too was dieing of cancer & would be gone from my life four months later at the young age of 57. That was 40 years ago, and every year after, I would wonder if I too would be around after that number 57 came along. Well it came & went, & now past it by 7yrs, I have to now take witness of others that weren't so lucky.
   Both Micheals were special to me, as I grew in my own life. One, I had the pleasure of working with in his painting business, with one mighty brush stroke, the day would pass, not withstanding that wide smile at the end of the day,to mark another profitable job well done.
   Shrdlu & I shared many good laughs either just coming in as one of my customers at the Bar, or a fine talent when he played at it. I am now sitting at my desk trying to  put together a fitting tribute for both good friends that will be missed greatly...I only have to look up at the wall where I have hung the most infamous painting that Ed Ashe painted for the Pub, & see myself along with many friends partying to the Band that his son help make so vibrant!
   
            As I have walked with my father, so shall they, now together at peace. 

                         

...CAN'T HAPPEN HERE, COPEING WITH THE UNIMAGINALBLE...

   I have lived here in Florida now for 8 years coming up in the end of January 2013, and previous to that I have lived my life in Connecticut, proud to be a native of that State. When I lived there I subcribed to the local paper: The Waterbury Republican. Now I also read the local paper here everyday, that is very simaliar...except for one exaggerated fact, and that is, with everyday I read about killing's & murder's, that seem to be the 'norm' here in Florida. But still I enjoy my paper regardless, since it does have some redeeming factor's, one of course is that it does'nt have the word 'Republican' in it's title...sorry..but seriously, I can for the most part read the whole thing from front to back and go away feeling somewhat fulfilled that I still have a local paper to enjoy. The other thing that I can expect at some point is when I run across an article about Connecticut, most of which are just those little blibs about some unimportant situation, but what ever it is it brings me back home for just a split-second to another time.
    Now it's much different, the name of the State where I grew up and have so many happy memmories of places and friends, is now smothered in the New's about a horrific incident that is so far from my normal grasp of things, I just have a hard time getting around it, and with every mention of it, a tear will fall.

     I can only hope that with time, those tears and fears will subside, and something good will come out of this...what, I have no idea, and at this point, doesn't seem like there would be anything! We can only hold on tight, and keep in touch with what we all deem a 'normal' World, perhaps then..'it can't happen here'...wouldn't happen at all..........

              PEACE AND LOVE

...SO YOU THINK YOU'RE TIRED...!!

     I know that most of you can get on edge for just about anything. But don't let it get you down, there's plenty of time to work things out. Therefore I'd like to add this little piece of the puzzle to your everyday life. It's another text written anonimously. Hopefully it will answer some of your problems, it goes like this:

     Yes, I'm tired. For several years I've been blaming it on middle age, iron poor blood, lack of vitamins, air pollution, saccharin, obesity, dieting, under-arm order, yellow wax build-up, and a dozen other maladies that make you wonder if life is really worth living.

     But now I find out, 'tain't that...

     I'm tired because I'm overworked. The population to this country is 237 million. 104 million are retired. That leaves 133 million to do the work. There are 85 million in  school, which leaves 48 million to do the work. Of this total, there are 29 million employed by the federal gavernment.

     That leaves 19 million to do the work.

      Four million are in the Armed Forces, which leaves 15 million to do the work. Take from that total the 14,800,000 people who work for the State  and  City Government and that leaves 200,000 to do the work. There are 188,000 in the Hospitals, so that leaves 12,000 to do the work.

     Now there are 11,998 people in prisons. That leaves just two people to do the work. You and me. And you're sitting there reading this. No wonder I'm tired!


       COULDN'T  HAVE  SAID  IT  BETTER  MYSELF.......

      And as you can tell, it was written more than a few years ago, but hey, it still applies...have a great day at Work...!!
    
   

DREAM CATCHER

      The Folklore, told over and over, each time representing a unique truth... This particular story starts off not so long ago........

   First the outer-most universe, with it's vast array of Galaxies, holding forth the Stars, Moon, Suns, and of course the Planets.
  
   They say that a Meteroite struck hard on what is know now as Earth. It resounded so hard that it shook the neighboring Planets to form what we now know as our existing Solar System!

   Created not too soon after, were living beings, made-up as they existed in their own enviroment: Birds flew high in the bright skies, warmed by the Sun; Fish swam freely in clean , Sun-baked waters; and peculiar animal beings roamed  the vast land.

   Life as we know it developed quickly, leaveing many lifeforms hanging in the balance...so delicate, many could not survive!

   Those that did, had to be toughened to the ways of this hard and cruel balance: the birds flew higher and faster, the fish swam deeper and longer, the animals that now roam the Earth had to be stronger and smarter. Soon with every revolution of the Sun and the Earth, those animals that lasted, broke off into separate groups or Tribes. These Tribes began to numbeer in size; the larger they grew, the more they split-off and wandered the Earth.

   The Tribes that split off, sought guidance through spritual beliefs, and those beliefs were taught by guides  and traveled with and through-out these many Tribes. They were know as 'Deam-makers'. With their help and guidance, these Tribes were able to endure. But once the Dream-maker had fulfilled his duties, he had to move on to the next Tribe or calling.

   With so many  Tribes, he often left soon before fulfilling his duties. So while he traveled between Tribes, he spent time fashioning a type of net...that with his powers, could be left among the Tribes that he visited. This would give them something tangible to use, to filter the good and the bad that might enter their camps while they rested or slept. These fixtures that soon adorned the out side of all their dwellings, are now know as Dream Catchers.

    The Dream Catchers hung in most of the doorways and open spaces, so that when the crisp night air moved through them,  leaveing only the good Spirits behind, so that the next day and the next, and so on, would always bring to them a new and fresh start.




   

A FOLLOW-UP ON THE CONTRIBUTIONS IN THE VETERINARIANS FAMLY

    I am summiting this as a follow-up to the writeings in the Warren Observer. This being one that was written by our favorite Veterinarian's wife, Nancy. It does brush upon polices pertaining to politics, so I fine it a timely contrabution at this time in our lives. And also with the title of    "Clean Dirt"  I just couldn't resist !

    Democracy? Communication ?  Or Administrative Foot Stamping ?

    The root of a Democracy is communication....if an adminisrative government chooses not to communicate with the people it represents, what do you call it ?  Whatever it is called, that's what Warren is.
     Several people called me, as a member of the Inlands Wetlands Committee, to try to do something about the town's decision to dump, "clean dirt" onto an area that belongs to the Town. [ Possibly more to the people of the Town than to aq group of administrators " representing the people"?]  Subsequently, I started a petition that would, in my mind, delay the project in order to have a Town Meeting to vote on whether the "clean dirt" should be dumped so closely to a lovely stream or on an alternate area. This alternate area, the Town said, was available. In fact, several were available, so they admitted.
    Well, Ihave to apologize to the well-intentioned citizens of Warren. I omitted to put the words " to put to the vote at a Town Meeting" onto my petition. [I neglected to look up the proper wording to placeon the form.] "Our" Town administration said,  with great glee, "You didn't put 'Town Meeting' on your document!" The fault was mine.
     Needless to say, the vote to except or deny was in favor of deny. Mine was the only NO vote. Inland-wetlands, themselves, seem to have no friends except for Mother Nature. She can be pretty powerful. In fact she can show her disapproval of things we do in many strong ways. By our denying her world clean water, she can, in the end, deny us life.
    The fact that the Town had already scarred the ares, or part of the area, they intend to dump on, without so much as a "by your leave" to a soul, may be a little dangerousw. In the future, is the Town, who has a blanket permission to fix roads and , in general , see that they are safe and properly drained, etc. going to gaily start on any project they think "The Family" wants? Are we, The People, not part of that FAMILY? And  who decides what safe is?
     
                                                Nancy T. Vreeland