For Weinerman's Sake

Testosterone and tension filled the air. It was thick enough to cut with an ACME chain saw. That's right . . . I said ACME. The sort of diabolical tool that you would expect of Wyle E. Coyote or another of his Warner Bros. compadres. For this was the event, the main match . . . this was Mascot Wars Dodge Ball presented by WB39 - the Warner Bros. TV channel in Houston. The line had been drawn in the sand. Well, the tape had been laid across the basketball court on which the competition would be held. To the right stood a motley crew of name and amateur competitors: Freddie the Flea, WB's own Michigan J. Frog, Scooby-Doo, the James Coney Island Weinerman, Lucky Dog and King Tux the Penguin, and an unimpressive, top-heavy Duck that kept repeating, "Smoking is Fowl." To the left of center court was the cocky competition. A team of two challengers so confident in their ability that they would take on the team of eight. Who were these macho manglers? Toro, the long-horned, steroid popping, bull mascot of the Houston Texans NFL franchise, and Chilie Dog, the equally as buff and vicious-looking, half-breed K-9 from the Houston Aeros professional hockey team. The scene brought back long-buried memories of recess dodge ball at Midway Elementary School. There I stood on one side of center with Butch Credille, John Berger, Ken Norton and Steve Mitchell. Across the court they stood, snorting smoke from their nostrils, fire in their confident eyes. We knew them, we feared them: Bill Ogle and Mike Meyers. Two against five . . . we were doomed. That pre-pubescent dodge ball blood bath 40-years ago went much the way of this mascot event. Balls were hurled at cannon-shot speeds and less aggressive teammates fell to the floor and were called out by the man with a whistle. When the smoke had cleared, Toro and Chilie Dog were victorious and the beaten band of misfit mascots looked on in defeat. But, one has to wonder . . . will the dodge ball bashing suffered by the James Coney Island Weinerman haunt his dreams years from now the way that my defeat has haunted me from time to time? For Weinerman's sake and for the sake of his wife and little weiners, I hope not... I sincerely hope not.

You're A Good Man

It snowed in Galveston the day that Aaron was born. The scene was much like it was at Christmas 2004. Frosty palm trees and white powder covering the tar spotted sand along the seawall. We were so excited to have a son and the possibilities were endless. From his homemade Smurf costume at Halloween to the tearful goodbye at day care when we moved to Houston, those early months with Aaron were so fulfilling. He was loved by everyone he met and his future would be no different. Aaron has never failed to amaze and make me proud in both good times and bad. His sense of awe at learning about the world around him, his need for exploration and discovery, and that ever-present creativity are characteristics envied by those he touches. Aaron is graduating from Texas A&M at Corpus Christi next month. He has worked hard to get his education, though to many it may have seemed to come easy. I am proud of him for that. What lies ahead professionally is anybody’s guess, but as long as he’s happy with his job choice, I’m happy for him. You’ve done well Aaron. I’ve never been more proud of what you’ve accomplished and I’ll be watching with great expectation at what’s in store for you just over the next sand dune. You are a good man. I love you.

That's What I Think

Yesterday I got to spend my first bit of quality time with Peanut. Landon has been at Texas Children's Hospital for three weeks. Though no one said it, there were times when we thought we might lose the guy to infections and other maladies that seemed to attack him every day. But despite the pounding, at just 8 lbs. this little fighter appears to be beating the baddies and making a comeback on his own terms. All but one of the tubes that used protrude here and there across his body have been removed; the one remaining is for his powerful antibiotics. He is drinking milk from a tiny bottle and, for the most part, keeping it down. There is even talk of taking him off the critical list and moving him to better digs with a view and a TV. I had my first chance to photograph Peanut yesterday. I hadn't photographed a newborn baby in more than 20 years, but it all came back in a flash . . . literally. I popped shot after shot of Landon as he fought off sleep, yawning, his eyes rolling back under the lids. I remember the same scenario with my own two boys when we were all much younger. There is something special about capturing this time and place with a camera, stealing it away and holding on to it as if the ritual might somehow keep them small and innocent. As I watched my grandson frown, grin and blow miniature bubbles through his sleeping lips, I wondered what he must be dreaming. I'd like to think that the frowns were nothing more than flashback memories of his recent bouts with needles and tubes. The grins had to be comforting thoughts of being cradled in his mother's gentle grasp. And the bubbles? Well, I think the bubbles are Peanut's first attempt at making a raspberry sound and putting everyone on notice that he is going to beat the odds and come home soon. At least, that's what I think.

Pulling For Peanut

My grandson, Landon a.k.a. Peanut, was born a little more than two weeks ago. From the action of the nurses in recovery it was immediately evident that there were physical problems with this little guy. After four days in ICU he was taken by ambulance to Texas Children's Hospital where every day there has been another challenge. Staph, spinal meningitis, pockets of infection to be drained, blood and breathing issues. But, he just keeps on fighting. He takes after his mom. In this period of taking one day at a time, I have been awed to find that the prayers and heart-felt concern for Peanut has grown to touch lives throughout the world. From my first simple emailed requests to friends to keep Landon and Brittany in their prayers has grown a network of prayer warriors that I would never have imagined. Prayers are being sent skyward from France and Great Britain, from Australian and Japan, across southeast Asia, as well as right here at home. Full congregations in Texas, Georgia, Florida, and Oklahoma are praying for Peanut. Individuals in Oregon, California, Alabama and South Carolina are asking for healing. It's an offering of love and support that I will never be able to repay. It's an amazing thing to watch unfold. No doubt there are angels in Heaven, but this episode has proven that there are a multitude of caring angels right here at home; friends and strangers pulling for Peanut.