Dear Season, please send deer

POSTED IN | 12:21 AM
My bro was in town over the weekend. On Saturday we went out to an undisclosed east Norman location (deer hunters are like FBI agents when it comes to their hunting spots — all business, and sworn to secrecy) to find some deer-dense spots.

My brother is hoping to come up Oklahoma-side for some hunting this fall to escape the confines of the Concrete Jungle.

And really I'm hoping he bags another brute this season. Those deer steaks from last year's buck were darn tasty.

Happy hunting, bro. This season as you shiver in the tree stand in the early a.m., I'll be snuggled delightfully in my warm sheets.

Looking for signs of deer activity. Methodically The Hunter surveys the terrain, hoping his scouting will pay off in the months to come. He sniffs the air. He likes what he smells.

Fresh tracks. The Hunter is delighted, but knows his task to bring down the evasive bucks won't be easy. He is nervous but driven.

A good trunk from which to anchor a stand is crucial. The Hunter knows this and chooses his tree like he does his wine and his women — carefully.

To maximize deer traffic in the intended areas, one must methodically clear the kill zone. The Hunter knows this and goes about his plight dutifully and with resolve.

After clearing the area and picking a tree, The Hunter moves into position. His tree climbing prowess is remarkable. He moves into position, like the stealthy leopard.

Reaching the preferred height, The Hunter surveys his area of destruction.
He squints his eyes with suppressed delight and a smile breaks at the corners of his mouth.

He speaks for the first time and the woods quiet. Creatures lie still. Fear drips from nature's brow. He is concise and assertive. Hear him. The Hunter.

"John. Give me the saw. I need to clear these branches."

Happy 1st Birthday Joshua Stuart

POSTED IN | 10:38 PM
We rolled out the red carpet and had a nice time commemorating my youngest nephew's 365th day in the world on Saturday.

On a side note, when a baby eats blue icing, his subsequent spit-up will be an equal shade of cobalt — for all you soon-to-be parents out there.

Perhaps white icing is the go-to color in this situation...

First taste.




Presents. Older brother was a touch overly helpful in the opening of gifts. Occassionally there would be a voluminous pterodactyl-esque shriek that anyone in the house knew to be Josh getting livid with his older brother. I'm thinking there will be many a brotherly brawl in the future with these two.

I got a nice gift for Josh involving a paddle-ball paddle and Prov. 23:13-14. I think he'll thank me later in life. I consider it an investment in his character...


More from the archives

I've been scanning a bunch of pictures onto my computer lately, for ease of storage and increased longevity. Hence the influx of old pics...

Tipping it back at the lake. This was on my aunt's boat near Nashville (c. 1997). Yeah, I was pretty crazy back in my middle-school days...

Your typical Royal Bavaria outing of a few years ago. Good times.

Mi hermano, c. 1996. I think this was taken on the first date my brother and his now wife went on. Can anybody verify this?

Molly fetching a bumper on the shores of majestic Lake Thunderbird.

This is a picture from the first roll of film I ever took with my old Canon AE-1. That camera got me interested in photography. And it still takes great pictures.

My family used to dogsit for this beast. Also known as Gwen. She was as endearing as she was ugly. She would eat anything. All the food groups. I watched her eat cherry tomatoes off the vine in my backyard. And sadly she died because of this trait. She ate aluminum foil. Very tragic. The body doesn't like such digestives...

The artsy trombone shot. I shot and developed this one myself. Firehouse Art Center baby...

2003 Rose Bowl Victory

I shot this clip in the final moments of the game as we took down Washington State.

This helps ease my pain from the Oregon fiasco, knowing we took down another Pac-10 team for a handy "W" those years ago.

Serenity now...serenity now...


The cross-cultural fill-up

A long time ago I started taking pictures of gas stations. I found I like capturing everyday things of various cultures, in this instance the advent of the fossil fueling station as seen in several countries and states. I find the small differences between universal, cross-cultural elements pretty interesting.

I think it'll be worthwhile to have some pics like these to look back on down the road. Ya'll are aware of the "I remember when gas was 25 cents a gallon" comments our relatives reminisce with. Now I have some photographic documentation to go along with these comments, should I want to reminisce in the future.

Perhaps you'll find the genre less-than-provocative, but nevertheless, here's some economic/petroleum history.

NOTE: Prices for the non-U.S. stations represent gas cost per liter (litre). 1 gallon = 3.8 liters, FYI.

Los Angeles, Cali. — January 2003.

Nottingham, England — December 2004.

London — July 2005.

Kaiserslautern, Germany — August 2005.

Vancouver, British Columbia — March 2006.

Manchester, England — March 2006.

Nottingham, England — April 2006.

Puerto Rico — May 2006.

Manchester, New Hampshire — July 2006.

Phoenix, Ariz. — August 2006.

Norman, Okla. — September 2006.