The Circle Game

"And the seasons they go round and round,
And the painted ponies go up and down,
We're captive on the carousel of time.
We can't return we can only look behind
From where we came,
And go round and round and round
In the circle game."
- Joni Mitchell

I used to love those walks to the Forest Park Zoo, where my brother, sister and I would watch the animals outside and in the big (and smelly) monkey house. My parents and Emma used to take us for long walks up Trafton Road on sunny mornings. The park was so lively back then. Lots of people running on the big open fields, throwing balls, riding horses, eating popcorn and cotton candy, feeding ducks day-old bread on the big ponds. And the park concession stand used to sell these colorful windmill-like sticks that used to blow in the wind. Of course, those things would break by the end of every walk but that wasn’t a big deal. They only cost a few cents so there'd be a new one for the next trip to the park. But only if I behaved.

One particular Forest Park memory has stuck with me all these years and yesterday, that memory shot right to the top of my brain. Next to the building where they used to sell the Cokes and popcorn, there was an area where lots of older people used to gather to play shuffleboard. That particular section was always packed with people watching these seniors playing their games, one after the other. It's as though those folks played all day long, never tiring. And they always had serious looks on their faces, rarely paying attention to the spectators on the side. If I close my eyes even now, I can hear the clinking and clanking of those hard red and black disks as they skidded and scratched along the dark gray concrete, smashing into one another.

“Getzov – You’re In!” - Bobbie Irwin is one of the directors of the senior program at the The Central Park Community Center in Topeka. This center is the Senior Games' Kansas affiliate and these state organizations have proven to be a great source of active and outspoken seniors for Eldercation interviews. I spoke with Bobbie last week while still in Oklahoma City and could tell right away she's one those folks that “gets it.” I was looking forward to meeting her and, at her suggestion, drove up from Wichita early last Thursday, braving some vicious early morning storms. I arrived at the center around 9:30, just in time to help Bobbie and Andrew, (that's Andrew up there, spreading out these tiny ball-bearing-like plastic pellets that allow the disks to slide easily on the plastic sheets), to set up for the daily tournament. I knew it was shuffleboard morning and Bobbie thought it would be a good way for me to introduce myself to some of the neighborhood's more active seniors. What I didn’t know was that I was going to be actually playing in the tournament. You know what? When they started pairing people off and I was introduced to my partner, Sandy – a smiling 70-year old woman – I have to admit I was a bit nervous. The last time I’d seen a shuffleboard … what do they call it? A Stick? Cue? Pole? Anyway, the last time I’d seen anything remotely having to do with shuffleboard was in Forest Park in the 1960’s. I did, however, follow a bit of the curling coverage during the past two Winter Olympic Games. Yes, yes, I’m one of those folks who actually enjoys curling. So take away the ice, the sweeping, the circular layout and … well … it’s basically the same game. Sort of.

* * * * * * * * * *

I loved it! I’m not kidding. And if people my age or younger ever took the time to play shuffleboard every once in awhile, my guess is they'd have a lot of fun, too. But, I'm not expecting that to happen any time soon.

Later that evening back in Wichita, I met an old friend of mine, Jill, and her husband and friend for dinner and I was telling them how much fun I had earlier that morning, playing shuffleboard, of all things.

“I couldn’t believe how competitive it was. How competitive I was!" I laughed. "I wanted to kick their collective butts.”

There was a pause. The next thing I knew both Jill and I were laughing pretty hard. I suppose I couldn’t believe what I was saying. And yet, it really was fun, I can’t deny it. Everybody in that shuffleboard room was doing their best to win games and you do find yourself knocking other people’s disks around and off the course – I learned quickly that’s one of the keys to the game, to keep your opponent from scoring. I suppose I wasn’t the gracious guest but, what the hell? It was funny to watch people kidding around with each other and I didn't escape their periodic needling. Being treated like one of the bunch felt nice, I have to say.

* * * * * * * * * *

"The Circle Game" - Yesterday, while interviewing some people at Sedgwick Plaza in Wichita, one of the residents, Fran Lovell, handed me some papers with a few jokes and funny cartoons he likes to pull from the web. One of them is to the right. Wheels. Circles. Cycles. There was a theme here. I smiled when I saw the cartoon. Sure, I'd seen drawings expressing a similar message, but this one hit me at just the right time, I suppose.

Immediately, my thoughts floated back to the prior morning up in Topeka and how much unexpected fun I had up there. As I packed up the car and started my drive back to the hotel I found my mind wandering and I thought about Forest Park, the windmills, popcorn and frosty Coca Colas’s. And then I thought about clinking shuffleboard disks.

And that’s when I heard Joni Mitchell's voice on the radio.

There are no accidents. That’s what they keep telling me.

You have to wonder.

Fatburger Dreams

For the burger lovers out there, this one's for you.

I eat less of them these days, that's for sure. But one thing is certain, I love hamburgers. My earliest memories take me all the way back to the Friendly's on Belmont Street, in Springfield, MA, which is, incidentally, the location of the very first Friendly's ice cream store. I remember sitting at the counter with my family and they had these metal contraptions that kind of lifted and folded up and over the counter, providing an extension for kids. It was always nice to have easy access to my burger and chocolate frappe. I still feel that way but, of course, now eat on regular counters. Come to think of it, I don't see those counter extensions any more.

Anyway, over the years I've had my share of hamburgers, some good, some bad and some absolutely fantastic. For some odd reason, California has been the sight of my best burger adventures. Three places come to mind - Apple Pan, In-N-Out and Fatburger. They're all great with Apple Pan being the most unusual, I think, because of a special sauce they put on the sandwich. I know Johnny and Kamal loved Apple Pan and they liked In-N-Out, too. But for me, it was always Fatburger. You've gotta love that name. They just go for it and fly in the face of Mr. Cholesterol. The fact is, there's a lot of healthy stuff going on when you eat a Fatburger, too. Lettuce, Tomato, Pickles, Onion - all solidly in the vegetable group, so it's not like you're downing a huge slice of Junior's cheesecake. The problems start when you order three or four of them. I'm happy to say, those days are gone for me. I suppose you can call that a form of Eldercation.

I've been passing Braum's signs since the day I arrived in the Midwest, sometimes humming the "Lullaby" and smiling when I thought about the name. (I know - different spelling). Seriously, there has been a constant stream of giant "B's" in ice cream cones flowing past my windshield for the past 7-8 weeks now and, although I won't say it's reached the Sonic frequency level (that would be pretty tough to do), I can report there's no shortage of Braum's down here. They're known for their dairy products - when I was in Oklahoma City, Kathy Jo told me there's something special about their milk and that people actually use it specifically for top-notch baking. She also filled me in about the ice cream - this sounded a lot like Friendly's to me. But today it was burger time so the ice cream and shakes would have to wait for a separate visit. Today, Kosher was the name of the game. Well ... sort of.

"Fatburger Midwest" - that's the way I'd describe it. If I closed my eyes and pictured La Cienega Blvd. near Beverly Center - that's where I traveled on that first bite. It was the same charbroiled taste, complete with the same veggies. I mean, think about it, it's pretty tough to ruin a burger, right? I'm not a mayo on beef kind of guy so I'm always quick to confirm there's none of the white stuff within ten feet of my buns.

"It's Braum's sauce," the counter woman smiled. "Kinda like Ketchup," she added. My nod signaled her to proceed with the order.

And that was that. My treat. My hamburger. And it was good, let me tell you. Okay, so I understand locals may think I'm nuts. "You haven't tried the ice cream?!" some have asked. "Don't know much about the food," others have added. But as I've said all along, "I call 'em as I see "em," and this was one good burger.

So now, the trick will be to keep my foot on the gas every time that giant "B" pops up over the horizon. Of course, you do realize I'll have to try at least one more Braum's burger at some point, just to confirm today's wasn't a fluke.

After all, it's my duty.

Warp Speed

I’m leaving Oklahoma. I’ve been here 2 ½ weeks and you know what? It's like I got here yesterday. It’s amazing how much I’m squeezing into two week stints and it’s just as amazing how fast the time seems to be rolling. Interestingly, that’s something I keep hearing from the seniors I’m meeting. They keep telling me how fast the time goes and how it speeds up as years roll on. Don't you ever think about that? I suppose this feeling is now being confirmed by people who have a much larger memory repertoire than I have.

Chuck Carrel, 82, is one of the first people I met on this trip. He lives in Dallas, Texas with his wife Anne. Great people. At one point, Chuck leaned back in the couch, petting their dog, "Snickers," and told a story that made me smile. He remembered - quite vividly I might add - a particular corner of the porch on the house he grew up in.

"And I'd lie down on the corner of that porch and play with a section of, I guess it was a wooden banister, next to the stairs coming off the porch, you know." He told me how he used to think and dream of the day he’d be old enough to become a boy scout. "I think you had to be twelve to become a scout," he explained. “And..." he started laughing, "...if it didn’t feel like it was taking 50 years, Harry,” Anne laughed with us. As Chuck told the story, he stared off to the window; you could tell he was picturing the entire scene as he talked. I loved watching him. "I wanted to be a boyscout so bad and I would poke and pick at that banister, waiting for that day to come and it felt like it would never come.”

"Now,” he laughs. I start my taxes for a given year… Anne calls me for lunch. And when I go back to the taxes, I realize it’s the next years’ taxes I’m working on!”

The speed of it all. I’m sure someone has done some kind of study about a human being’s perception of time as they age. I just know what I’m feeling and I know it feels like things are moving faster. As I packed up the room today, I remembered exactly what I was doing almost three weeks ago. Still, I checked the dates on my blog this morning. And then I looked at the pile of miniDV tapes in my video bag. Something happened over the last three weeks, that's for sure. And I used to have a bad back and now that’s gone, thanks to my time at Core Yoga and Tina’s watchful eye. I took a trip up to Guthrie and then to The Cattlemen’s for lunch with Kathy Jo and to The National Weather Center and University of Oklahoma with Billie. Yes. Something definitely happened in Oklahoma.

On to Kansas.

* * * * * * * * * *

Seamless - “The Tar Heels are gonna remember this.” That’s what I said to my friend on the phone. With eight-plus minutes to play and North Carolina up on Georgetown by 8, three straight times down court, the Tar Heels had thrown up long three point clunkers instead of pounding the ball inside as they’d been doing up until that point. It always mystifies me how a team does that. How they stop doing the very thing that proved successful up to that very special implosion point. Then again, I suppose individuals do the same thing. Anyway, for those who saw the game, you know what happened. NC panicked when they tried to shift gears, and they never recovered. Fascinating how a game’s tone can shift on a dime like that, huh?

As I watched the game, sitting on the couch, sipping a tea, I glanced around the room. It looked different. Then I smiled. The fact was, the room was different. It was in Wichita, Kansas. This morning, my room was in Oklahoma City.

The drive up already a memory, I took another sip of tea and thought about the seamlessness of my transitions to new cities. To new states and cultures. Once again, ExtendedStay Deluxe has everything to do with this ease of transition. Robert Green had put me in touch with Valerie Guerke the Regional Director of Operations up here in Wichita and without flinching, Valerie put things together for me. So it was easy to walk in the door, sign some paperwork and then enter one of the nicest suites I've seen yet. The layout here is … well … once again, I only wish I had a place like this when I lived in New York! It’s that nice. And huge. You can't tell from these small shapshots, but the suite is extremely roomy and quiet, which helps a lot, let me tell you. Within ten minutes my stuff was out of the car, up to the room and into the closets and drawers. I even set up my cameras to do some video capture – I’m pretty far behind after a very successful run in Texas and Oklahoma, so it's time to hunker down again. And, having cleaned up my eating habits and stretching out my system in OKC, in the morning I’m planning a trip to a health food store I found on the web in Wichita to stock up on “real” food. I don’t know if this is the case or not, but I’m about 80% sure the fast-food, processed approach to eating went a long way in kicking my lower back's ass (no pun intended) over the past few weeks. Oh, don’t worry, Charles and my other “eating adventure” fans. I’ll have my special weak moments. But I will choose those moments wisely to be sure. Once I scope out the area’s culinary specialties, I will most certainly lock into them and head right over.

In the meantime, I'm looking at a full kitchen just five feet away from me - every ExtendedStay Deluxe room comes with a full oven/stove, microwave, dishwasher and large refrigerator. (That's the kitchen through the opening on the right there. It's convenient if someone wants to pass food to me during the night). There are simply no fast-food excuses allowed any more. From now on, it’s going to be muesli, soy milk and fresh squeezed orange juice with a doses of yoga in between. That’s the only way I can survive this trip without my old lower back friend coming back for a repeat performance.

* * * * * * * * * *

Hitting The Ground... - Just a quick note. Last week, I did my advance work, I guess you'd call it. You know, milling around the web, researching possible contacts in a given area to see who I can contact to meet interesting and outspoken seniors. I traded emails and spoke briefly with a young woman named Misty Miller, the Activity Director at Sedgwick Plaza in Wichita, another of the Captital Senior Living properties. As soon as I spoke with Misty... Actually, as soon as I read her very first email, I knew she "got it." So I was really looking forward to meeting her when I arrived in Kansas. We decided it would be best for me to call her on my drive up from Oklahoma, which I did earlier today. After the NCAA games, I figured I'd put in one more call to see if I could set something up with her for Monday morning. When I got Misty on the phone and I mentioned where my hotel was, she laughed. "My house is like two blocks from you." And the next think I knew I was sitting in a Starbucks around the corner, sipping a tall iced black tea with my newest Eldercation friend, Misty Miller.

After about an hour, we set up a plan. I enjoyed watching Misty jot down notes every time she thought of a resident who she thought would be a great participant. She was doing the exact same thing Liz would do. Activity directors are special people in that they really do know each and every residents' story, their unique personalities. So I could see Misty's hard drive clicking away right in front of me. It was like I had pressed the "Search Folders" button on my laptop and ... she was off and running.

"How many do you want?" she asked. I laughed, telling her it'd be best to start small with one, maybe two great interviews. "After that? It's got a life of its own," I told her.

And with that, it was back to my room. My Wichita, Kansas room. I checked the phone to confirm the state.

Who Knew? – Part 2

No. I didn’t take a detour through Portland, Maine.

This is Oklahoma City. Can you believe it?

“Lake Hefner.” I saw the sign when I first drove into town and, as stupid as it sounds, bunny ears popped into my head. Could it be? Is he originally from Oklahoma City? And there’s a parkway, a street, a golf course and I’m guessing more Hefner things down here I haven't noticed yet. I figured the history would come out as I spent some time in town. Common sense said that “Hef” and Oklahoma simply do not mix. And as many of the readers out here already know, when I’m in doubt, my law school training pushes me to get the facts and Wikipedia appears to be a damn good source for those. I love that site. It turns out that Lake Hefner is actually a 2500 acre reservoir built in 1947 to increase the city’s water supply. It’s named for a former OKC mayor, Robert A. Hefner.

With memories of Barbie Benton and Dee Dee Lynn out of my head, it was time to finally check the lake out. I first saw it last weekend when Kathy Jo and I were driving back from Guthrie and the sight of water … well … it just felt great. I do miss the sight of open water and I'm pretty sure it's one of the things I'd crave if I ever decided to settle in the middle part of the country. We’ll see about that because I have to tell you, there’s a hell of a lot I’m liking about the mid-west.

The lake is about 3 minutes from my hotel room and since they've been forecasting rain for the balance of the week, I figured today would be a good day to check it out and get some photos before I head north to Wichita over the weekend.

I drove over about 3:00 or so and there were just a few people walking around one of the paths lining the water. Some folks were riding bikes, but it was pretty windy so I’m sure that kept a lot of people away. Add to that, it was still working hours so the emptiness didn't surprise me and I preferred it that way. There was a nice strip of restaurants and bars along the lake’s southeast edge and by 4:00 cars started to roll into the area. I can see why the lake is a popular spot to unwind at the end of a hard day. There's just something about the sight of water that helps to soothe the soul. At least that's the effect it has on me.

I needed a day like today, limited to walking and taking photos when the spirit moved me. I only wish I'd had my bike with me; I was aching to take a long, quiet ride around the water. I miss those adventures down the West Side Highway. (Can you hear me, Howard and Gail? I remember that crumb cake at Chelsea Pier. Also, I hope my Raleigh's doing okay in Dumbo. I left her in a pretty awkward position in the storage bin). Just so you know, this green-way rated about a 9 1/2 out of 10 on the "Shangri-La Scale." More on that at another time.

One more look at the Oklahoma state tree - The Redbud. Enjoy.

Al Roker - Here I Come

The ultimate Eldercation treat for me is when I'm able to spend time with participants beyond the 30-minute interview time. Often ... in fact, quite often, I'm invited to have a piece of cake, some tea and more often than you'd think, I'm invited to share a meal with them. And when that happens I'm always frustrated I don't have the camera running because that's when a bit of magic often strikes. Sometimes, if I'm extremely lucky, I get to spend a entire afternoon with an interviewee. That's what happened Sunday.

Billie Beal was the first of my interviews set up by Doug Paulson at the Woodside Senior Center. She was the one with the ginger on her hands as she was backing a gingerbread cake in the center's kitchen. We had talked a few times after the interview as Billie was helping to introduce me to other people for the project. "How would you like to see the University of Oklahoma?" she asked two days ago. Having grown up watching the Sooners and hearing about the school all my life and wanting to see more of the area, of course I accepted. But that wasn't to be the real surprise of the day.

The university is located in Norman, OK, just southeast of OKC center and Billie took side roads to get there. It’s amazing to me how there are such wide open spans of land so close to a major city like that. “What a great time for you to be here,” Billie said. "Everything's blooming." I asked what the white, round trees were? I've seen them everywhere and first noticed them on the drive up to Kingfisher, it's entire main street lined with them. "Bradford Pears," Billie explained. "And those pretty reddish-pink ones you see all over... Oklahoma Redbuds. The state tree."

You can tell everything's about to pop, bloom-wise, with the rain and warmer weather coming. I'll be sure to have my camera ready to go. The red and white blossoms remind me a lot of the trees around the Central Park reservoir, when they're in bloom around the east, southeast side of the running and horse paths. It’s one of my favorite times to run there, in the early morning, blossoms dropping on the path like snow. It’s about a three day window to catch it just right, but when you do ... man, it’s beatufiul. And the smell? Nothing like it. For a split second that aroma actually wins the battle against the car fumes.

After a great brunch at a restaurant called "Legends," (they have something called Coca-Cola cake there. And, yes, my will power was intact Sunday morning), it was time for the treat of the day. It turns out, a young man named Deke Arndt from The National Weather Center came over to the Woodson Center last week to give a workshop about the facility. Billie told Deke she was taking me on a short tour of the OK campus on Sunday and asked if the Center was open for tours. Now get this - even though the center is closed Sundays, Deke said he’d open it up to take us on a private tour. How do you like that?

Now, I'm not ashamed to say I am truly a weather-geek. Given the opportunity and resources, I definitely have the "storm chaser" thing running through me. Severe thunder storms, tornados, you name it, the whole thing gets me going. So I knew this was going to be fun. And it was. So now, whenever I watch TV weather forecasts and they tell me 1.2 inches of rain fell in Central Park or downtown Boston, I’ll know exactly how that number is calculated. Deke took us to a special room where rain gauges and other technical equipment are sent for repair and he showed us how different items work. Perhaps this would make normal people yawn, but Billie and I certainly asked a lot of questions. And even though most of the facility's areas were closed for the weekend, Deke still was able to put together a great tour. For me, the highlight took place in a video presentation room where Deke pulled up some video graphics of the monstrous F5 tornado that ran though Oklahoma in 1999, as well as and the huge ice storm that pummeled the state this past October. He explained different symbols and gave us an in depth look at how storms are tracked at the center.

After the tour, we drove around the beautiful University of Oklahoma campus. Of course, my eyes were drawn to the football stadium which is as impressive as I figured it would be. Years of following Barry Switzer, Billie Sims and the Sooners, it was cool to see the great football tradition's ground-zero. It's then that it dawned on me that I didn't know what a "sooner" was, so I asked Billie. She explained it to me and then I Googled it when I got back to the room. So, if you're the least bit interested:

"Sooners were persons who illegally entered certain lands in the Indian Territory prior to the date set by the U.S. government for the opening of the lands to settlement. The term was first used in connection with the settlement of the so-called Oklahoma Lands in 1889. A proclamation issued by President Benjamin Harrison authorized settlement of these lands as of noon, 22 April, and forbade any person to enter them earlier. Those who did so came to be called "Sooners." (http://www.answers.com/topic/sooner)

And that was my Sunday. Taken together with yesterday’s trip up to Guthrie and then lunch at the Cattlemen’s with Kathy Jo, it was a pretty damn good weekend, I have to say. There’s something pretty special about coming into a state where I’ve never been, meeting people in all kinds of different ways, and then getting to know them while seeing the area. It’s certainly beats a simple guide book.

What A Way To Travel

Driving down Route 74 smack in the middle of the greenest pastures you can imagine... Cows, trees, tractors scattered across the landscape... A pretty blond woman sitting next to me, rubbing oil on the back of my neck to relax me.

Got your attention?

Now don’t get upset mom. I had full control of the wheel. And the fact is, this was perfectly legitimate ... dammit. The oil-rubbing woman was a new friend named Kathy Jo and she was merely applying some essential oil on my neck and upper chest. I was introduced to Kathy Jo by Tina Hilbert, the wonderful owner of Core Yoga, where I've been practicing while in OKC. When I told Tina about my back issues, she kept pushing me to call Kathy Jo, which I stupidly resisted for a few days. Of course, when I finally called her and went in for a “raindrop aromatherapy” treatment, I was pretty bummed I’d waited even those few days. What an experience. I can't remember ever being so completely relaxed that way. Everyone should try this at least once and the best news is, it seems to have helped my back.

Now, who would have thought I’d be driving down a country strip of highway in the middle of Oklahoma, having oil rubbed on my body that way? Now this is the scenic route I'm talkin' about! And the best thing is, I certainly didn’t shop around for the moment. But it turns out I’m being blessed with some terrific Oklahoma tour guides during my visit. Kathy Jo and I took a drive up to Guthrie, OK, a wonderful small town about 30 miles north of OKC. They say Guthrie looks exactly the same today as it looked on the day it was founded during the Land Run in 1889. I found out that Guthrie was actually Oklahoma's first state capital. It was fun to walk around and see the small shops and galleries and, of course, Kathy Jo made sure we stepped into the Blue Bell Saloon where Tom Mix used to tend bar. The place was like a mini Tom Mix museum. At one point a nice, toothless local man gave me a tour of the place while keeping his tush planted in his bar stool. He pointed out three original bullet holes from when people where still in the habit of shooting guns in bars. (Actually, I suppose people still do that kind of thing.) “Whore house was right upstairs,” he laughed, pointing at the original metal, patterned ceiling. “Ya wonder if anyone took a shot,” he added as he laughed hard, taking swig of his beer.

It was too smoky in the place, so we decided to walk more and seek out a specific boot-making shop Kathy Jo has seen written up in a number of leather work and boot journals and magazines. After asking a few folks for directions, we found Sorrell Custom Boots & Gallery. A smiling, short-haired young woman wearing glasses stepped out from the back and introduced herself to us. This was Lisa Sorrell, the bootmaker herself. What a great person. Since it was quiet, Lisa led Kathy Jo and me to the back and gave us a tour of her studio area, talking with us about the entire boot making process - a complete new world to me. You should see Lisa's work - it's pretty amazing, actually. Of course, this was one of those special moments where I didn't have my camera by my side. When will I learn? I've posted a couple of pics here but please Check out Lisa's website to see more examples of the beautiful work she does.

Instead of grabbing lunch in Guthrie, I decided it might be a great day to take in Cattlemen's Steakhouse – the most famous steak place "in these here parts." So we decided to drive back down to OKC to have lunch there; it's located in the city's historic Stockyards City. By the way, that’s when Kathy Jo decided to break out the oil. “Think I’ll have to hire you to sit in that seat for the rest of my trip and rub oil on me any time my back hurts.” “Can’t afford me, “Kathy Jo laughed.

A great tour guide, we ate lunch (both of us took the more healthy salad route, which I suppose was the equivalent of ordering chicken at Joe’s Stone Crabs), then we drove around to see the Memorial once again. Kathy Jo told me how she was only about a block away when the bomb went off that day. It's a chilling story which I can tell she doesn't like to recount. Then we headed over to Bricktown where the St. Patrick’s Day parade had just finished. Of course, as soon as I saw a baseball park, my eyes locked in on it. AT& T Bricktown Ballpark is home to the the Oklahoma RedHawks, the Texas Rangers' AAA affiliate - it looks like a pretty spiffy place for a minor league team. Too bad I won't be here in a few weeks, I'd love to see a game right now. Hmmm. What's on tap for the next month or so? St. Louis? Kansas City? Still, there's nothing like a minor league game. It's usually fun, pure, affordable professional baseball surrounded by authentic, down-to-earth small-town fans. It's just not the same at the Major League parks these days, I'm sorry to say. (Nice additional info tidbit: Bricktown is home to Sonic's corporate headquarters. That takes care of this square mile.)

And that was that. A very pleasant Oklahoma day under my belt, it was time to head back so I could rest and get ready for my Sunday University of Oklahoma tour with Ms. Billie Beal.

The Birth of Walmart

A Visit With Fred - I can’t remember ever doing four interviews in one day but there's always a first time and today was it. The day started off with an early morning drive north up to Kingfisher. As I've said about 50 times already, I always get excited making preparations to travel into new territory and this morning was no exception. I filled the car with $2.47 gas and headed up Northwest Expressway - straight shot, pretty uneventful for the most part. And yet, about ten miles up the road, the streetlights and buildings thinned out and things opened up to wide open farm country. Dark cows dotted the open grass, heads down, hardly moving. A few silos dotted the landscape and there were these huge bundles of rolled up hay scattered across the fields. It was striking, the endlessness of it all, although I felt like I was only getting a 50% show because of a thick grayish morning haze.

The reason for the Kingfisher visit: Fred Schemmer. He's 89, a former farmer or shall I just say - a farmer. Fred still works the land, driving a tractor for a friend and he works hard, let me tell you. We had a great visit, Fred in his rocking chair, moving back and forth, peering through his glasses, me sitting across from him in his living room, easy listening music serenading us in the background on his cable TV. At times things got a bit teary. Fred lost his wife of 50+ years about ten months ago and he’s having a tough time. Still, he was so wonderfully open about it and not afraid to express his feelings. He and Jaynie had a special relationship so to say he has a huge hole in his life would be an understatement. But another love has come to Fred's rescue - farming - and it's certainly lending him a hand at coping with his sadness. (Again, I’m limiting my writing about the seniors I visit here. Feel free to check out the “Tapping The Resource” section of the main site at a later time. I’m working on it.)

The Birth Of Walmart - Fred walked me outside to the car and I remembered to ask him about something I noticed on the way up to Kingfisher. Just before I took the left off the highway to head up to Fred’s home, I noticed a particular sign. Fred chuckled and, of course, gave me the complete lowdown about Sam Walton, which included a quick and complete Kingfisher history lesson. He suggested that I take a drive around town, which I did. The Walmart … well … look at it. If it isn't the first Walmart ever, it’s certainly close. It reminded me of one of those old time Woolworth stores. Fred told me it's one of the original stores, been there for many years but things are about to change. Kingfisher's about to enter the big time. A huge area of farmland has already been cleared for the construction of a major new shopping center area, the centerpiece of which is going to be … you guessed it. And why not? It’s Sam’s home town.

* * * * * * * * * *

America's Drive-In - Quick observation. I meant to mention this a few days back. Have you ever heard of Sonic? You know, America’s Drive In? (Howard, I know you’re a Sonic veteran, but it's certainly no Duchess). Seriously, I’d seen a commercial now and then when living in the city, but never actually come across an actual Sonic. Well, those days are over. Now, here’s the thing. I must see a Sonic - and this is not an exaggeration - every 200 yards here in OKC. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s rivals the Starbuck's frequency in NYC. I ask you, how can they all survive? It’s like each square mile of Oklahoma has it’s own Sonic. That means a lot of folks here are eating a hell of a lot of burgers and cheddar bites and downing a bunch of banana-pudding shakes.
And yes, I tried a Sonic.
Once.
Enough said.
Now I can check that off my list.

"One Letter At A Time"

I’m all set for another round of interviews in Oklahoma, thanks to the thoughtfulness of Atina and her Mom, Hazel. Also, Doug Paulsen from the Woodside Senior Center has proven to be a man of his word. After my center visits with Billie Beal and E.K Boggs last week, Doug smiled and assured me, “There are a lot more where those came from.” He wasn't joking. This morning, right after I told Doug how another avenue I was counting on had fallen through, he told me to sit tight and he’d call me in a few hours. Within the hour the phone was ringing and there was Doug, telling me three more visits were set up for later in the week. Just like that, I’m back in the saddle. And I’ve already started reaching out to folks up in Kansas, so things are looking good for that part of the trip as well. Add to that, enter Arkansas. It’s funny, Arkansas wasn't on the original list, time and money certainly becoming an issue at some point. But a bunch of folks I've met have been trying to persuade me to take an extra week and head down that way, telling me how beautiful it is. So I’m thinking about it. E.K. Boggs mentioned he has friends down there he can introduce me to and I’d love to see Little Rock and Hot Springs. I’ll see how things unfold.

* * * * * * * * * *

One Letter At A Time - In the meantime, I keep plugging away. When I’m not busy interviewing or setting up interviews, I’m focused on making hotel arrangements. The balance of my time is spent transcribing and writing about the folks I’ve been meeting. The website? It's proven to be much more of a challenge than I ever thought it'd be. Sure, I’m loving the fact that I’m the director, producer and technician all in one, giving me the ability to update things whenever I want, as soon as the experiences occur. Still, it takes a ton of time. And it’s not developing as quickly as I want. And I hate that.

And then ... five simple words float through my head. It's a new phrase that has attached itself to my brain cells for some reason.

“One letter at a time…”

Hollis Baker's gift to me.

Sure, we’ve all heard different metaphors for ways to accomplish big ideas and splendid plans – “Rome wasn’t built in a day,” – “The journey of 1000 miles begins with one step,” and the big one so many of us seem to struggle with, “One day at a time." But, when Hollis spoke freely about his experiences as a sign-painter and how he handled a lifetime of challenges along the way, I smiled when he relayed one particular story and I’m smiling again as I write this.

One letter at a time.

And so I’ll keep pecking away at this laptop, uploading and editing photos, listening to tapes and writing blog updates and culling out interview excerpts for all of you to enjoy.

One letter at a time.

1 ½ Chick Fil - A's

The Grackles Are Back - I heard a familiar sound when I stepped out of yoga class earlier tonight. It was dark so I couldn’t see much. Then, when I stopped at a light down the street, the sound got much louder, causing me to look up. The street lights glowed and I needed to squint to make out what I thought was, yes ... dark specks, what looked like thousands of them lining the telephone wires all the way down the long street. I smiled. Some old familiar friends had joined me here in Oklahoma. It’s funny, because as the weather warms and I head north, the Grackle migration seems destined to merge with my own. That’s certainly terrific news for the car-wash industry. Bad news for Enterprise car rental. (Check out the Grackle action photo and link to this interesting Oklahoma City site).

Interview-wise, after a quick start here in Oklahoma City, things slowed down because of some contacts not coming through. Still, other leads appeared from nowhere. Atina (co-owner Dallas' Downtown Yoga) and her Mom, Hazel, who I interviewed at the yoga studio last week – they’ve introduced me to some friends and family members up here in Oklahoma. I’ve already made contact with these folks and am headed to Kingfisher, OK on Weds, which I’m really looking forward to. It’s a chance to escape the city and see some Oklahoma landscape. From what I’ve been told, I need to take a trip to the eastern side of the state. Apparently, it’s beautiful land over there. I’ll set aside one day to take that drive.

* * * * * * * * * *

1 ½ Chick Fil A’s - And speaking of drives… When I first arrived in Wichita and then drove down to Dallas, the price of gas was around $2.00/gallon. When I was in San Antonio, I even found some places that broke the $2.00/gallon barrier, some places selling gas for as low as $1.98! I blinked. Gas was $2.15/gallon. I blinked again. It was $2.28/gallon. I blinked a third time. $2.35/gallon. Today, when I went to fill up, the price was $2.45/gallon at most places. What the hell’s going on?

I don’t want to get into it here too much, but it’s astonishing to see the speed of this latest price rise. And we all sit out here and just take it. After all, what’s the rise mean out-of-pocket? If we buy eight gallons at a time, what’s that? Another four bucks? Measured in Chick-fil-A’s that's about 1 and ½ sandwiches. I can handle that. But, it’s still creepy to think about what’s really going on behind the scenes. I picture people working levers, turning the supply lines off and on to suit their own profit needs. And people are saying this is just the beginning of what may be the largest rise in gas prices ever, with prices soaring to three or four ... perhaps to as much as five dollars a gallon! Can you imagine? Okay, so I sound like a child. But that's only because I lived in NYC for so long, I didn't have this kind of day-to-day relationship with the gas pump. Still, I can’t help but wonder. What's the American public’s breaking point? How much will the people take? How many more Hummers can people keep buying? Lots of questions.

I remember, it was about 8 months ago, I was walking down Central Park West and saw two people talking as I passed them on the right. There was a 60'ish looking gentleman and a woman who looked older, perhaps in her 80’s or so. As I walked by, I caught a glimpse of a button the woman was wearing. It was yellow with big black bold letters: “WHERE’S THE OUTRAGE?!” I smiled when I saw it and walked for about another 20 steps until my feet stopped. “Older woman. Provocative message button. Hmmm. Eldercation.” That’s a common thought process for me nowadays, I have to admit. I suppose it's the “you only live once” approach and my choice nowadays to not allow special moments to pass without at least taking a shot. And so, I did just that. I turned around and walked back to the couple, introducing myself with a smile on my approach. The next thing I knew I was part of their conversation, which continued for another half hour. We talked about the amount of bull crap that’s thrown our way and how the populace appears to be sedated. I’m not saying that to be funny. The older woman, I think her name was Rachel, said, “It's like we’ve all been drugged and can't react.”

Well, on my way back to the hotel after yoga and Grackles, I hit the 7-Eleven to get gas. (only gas – thank God they don't have those good Texas brownies up here.) As I pumped gas I saw a man in a baseball cap shaking his head and laughing, then looking over at me, pointing to the price signs on top of the pump. “Can you believe this crap?!”

And so it goes. Another chance to bond with another satisfied citizen. The man’s name was Carl and we chatted for ten minutes after we pulled our cars up to the store portion of the 7-Eleven. It was another “Where’s the outrage?” conversation. I told him the story about the older woman in NYC, and we both agreed there are a lot of people out here having the same feelings about all kind of issues. So, I ask you. What’s the problem? Why can’t we figure out a way to connect the dots?

Okay. Too heavy for tonight. The more immediate issue for me is simple: a trip to see Oklahoma’s beautiful southeast territory means one thing and one thing only - 1 ½ less Chick Fil A’s. That’s the real price I pay for the recent price increase. So my question for the night is: how many Chick Fil A’s am I willing to give up before I start fighting back?

"Black Gold - Texas Tea"

Well … Oklahoma tea - And it didn't exactly reach the Jed Clampett level. Still, I pretty much struck a form of gold this morning. Of course, it’s going take some time to see if anything actually comes of it.

Compared to Irving, TX, my hotel here is situated in a different type of neighborhood. It took a little more investigation to map out an enjoyable morning walk route. Yesterday I walked up the street and to the left finding a nice, quiet residential area. But this morning I decided to turn right where I found mostly shopping centers. Still, it was fun hunting around, seeing what's close by if I ever need something and don't want to take the car. I found a barbershop, for instance, since I'm thinking it's getting close to my first road haircut. And there was even a little hat shop next door, just in case the $8.00 haircut doesn't work out quite as planned. On the way out on the walk, I passed a small, one-story building with a sign outside, "Ray's Cafe."

When I headed back to the hotel, I noticed the "Ray's Cafe" sign again and figured, "What the hell?"

As I headed up the walkway, I met a group of five women, mostly elderly, walking in the side door. One much older woman, using a walker, was having trouble getting through the door and her friend smiled, motioning for me to go around them.

"You can take the fast track around" she laughed, pointing to the side.

"What's the rush?" I smiled, reached out and held the door as the others walked in. The younger woman smiled, followed by the elderly woman, hunched over as she walked. She tilted her head to the right and up, then thanked me.

I looked around. A simple coffee shop/diner about half filled with quiet Oklahomans. It didn't take me two seconds to notice that about 99% of the customers were older. I smiled, wiping the drool from my lip, then picked a booth in the corner, grabbing a copy of "The Oklahoman" as I sat down.

* * * * * * * * * *

A Long-Time Fantasy - Whenever I thought about taking this trip, I often visualized scenes like this morning's, when I entered Rays: a diner serving great food at reasonable prices, filled with older people to meet and spend time with. Actually, the fantasy involves more of a roadside diner out in the middle of the desert or some vast green farmland. Still, the diner part of it was on the money this morning.

"You've pretty much hit the jackpot," a pretty blond waitress wearing blues jeans smiled as she refilled my cup of decaf. "Look around," she added, waving her right arm. Her name is Angela and I had a chance to tell her about Eldercation as the traffic slowed down a bit.

I finished my home fries (great home fries, by the way), eggs and whole wheat toast and Angela mentioned some names of locals who come into Ray's for breakfast just about every day. I told her my hotel was about 250 yards down the road. "Know the place," she smiled. "Want us to keep the booth set up for you?" We laughed and I went up front to pay my check. All three of the waitresses were in the kitchen area to the left and Angela had filled them in about the project. We chatted for awhile and it appeared my Oklahoma "recruiting staff" was now in place.

And ... that was that. We'll see how it pans out. At the very least I know I have a great and inexpensive place to eat over the next two weeks and it's only about outfield throw from the hotel. Judging from the folks I saw eating there this morning... Let's just say I hope this translates into something special.