Just Pixels

Well friends, as the days grow shorter and the nights a crisp 40-some degrees, there are sure signs this summer is nearly over here on the high plains. Most notably, it's that time again for the Wyoming State Fair, hosted by none other than my lovely metro of Douglas, Wyo!

Amigos J.Vo and J.Al (venerable Sooner Statesmen in their own right) descended on Douglas this past weekend for the fair kickoff, reining in the spectacle as only respectable Okies can. We had not an abismal time, and with only a few groggy mornings to show for our revelries.

It's surprising to think I started at the newspaper at this time last year. WOW. Where has the time gone, my dear chillens? Thus it's with my approximate one-year anniversary that I'll be bidding farewell to the Douglas Budget newspaper and Wyoming within a number of days. My final day is next week.

It's been a mostly good, challenging run on all levels but I know it's time to be looking forward, as a single, minimally tied-down individual is wont to do. But don't worry, you particular Douglasites who made my time here worthwhile, you'll not be forgotten. Pretty sure I would've shriveled into a decrepit sack of worthlessness back in mid-February without you all.

As for where I'm going? It's back to OK for at least a spell. Then it's que sera sera mis amores. But stay tuned. I'll let you know when I get "there"...

Mis amigos y yo packed it up into the family sedan and headed for the hills this weekend. The Black Hills. Of South Dakota. It was my first time in the state (total personal state count at 38 of 50 now) and I have to say the Black Hills did NOT disappoint.

I always envisioned the faces of Washington, Jefferson, Roosevelt and Lincoln as being somewhat lackluster, etched on a random mountain ridge in the middle of no-freakin-where, USA. In the end I'll just say GO and SEE them. You can't be a real 'Merican and forgo the towering sculpted busts and learn about the man who sacrificed much of his life to create them.

Our weekend getaway also coincided with the largest motorcycle rally in the United States: Sturgis. So named for the South Dakota city around which it constricts.

This normally wouldn't be an item of note except for the fact that about 500,000(!) bikers attend the rally and swarm the Black Hills/Mt. Rushmore area for one week each year in August. One quickly feels out of place in the absence of riding chaps, leathery skin and overly exposing and distasteful garments (yikes).

It's basically a roving, virile freak show on wheels, and it's pretty awesome to behold.

As means to illustrate the event's prominence, here are some Sturgis fun facts gleaned from a web site:

1. In 1976 the average attendee spent $50.
2. In 2009 the average attendee will spend more than $1,000.
3. 1/3 of western South Dakota's motorcycle accidents connected to the event.
4. The rally features hundreds of thousands of bare, saggy breasts. And that's just the men.
5. Sturgis businesses make 95% of their annual revenue from the rally.
6. South Dakota collects approximately $1,000,000 in sales tax from the event.
7. The town of Sturgis, population 6,000, adds $200,000 of taxes to its coffers.
8. The first rally was in the summer of 1938, and has been in Sturgis every year except during WWII.
9. In 2005 a rider was killed by a flying toilet.
10. A conservative estimate of beer consumed in the two weeks surrounding the event: 3 million gallons

Thus. If you have the means and the time, your photos and experiences won't leave you wanting for raw sensory stimulation. Just remember to suck it down cheap, cold and American.

But let us get on with the photos.


Keystone, SD. Taken from the balcony where we munched pizza for lunch. A symphony of baritone combustion exhaust.


Ahem. Washington, Jefferson, T. Roosevelt and Lincoln.


Take II.


Custer State Park will be one of the prettiest places you'll go in the West. Don't miss Sylvan Lake, dear friends. What an amazing setting, and day hikes/camping galore!


But we all had a fright at the unexpected big foot sighting IN Sylvan Lake. EGAD, MAN! Seems they're quite aquatic beasts, too. Initial reports couldn't confirm the validity of the sighting or if Europeans are simply to blame. England and France could not be reached for comment as of press time.

Screen grab from a recent chat with my Singapore-based brethren. Skype is a wonderful thing.

Wyoming so owes us. We went sailing Saturday at Glendo Reservoir, about two hours north of Cheyenne. Beautiful place. Amigo Josh popped up from the Rawlins metro to be an integral part of the elite crew. Uncle Bob brought his 70s vessel up from Denver for what we hoped would be a brilliant sail about.

And it HAD been windy EVERY DAY in Wyoming since I got here last summer. So wouldn't you know it that the state would stiff us when we actually NEEDED the wind whilst literally going NOWHERE on the lake with our sails luffing and rudder pitifully amidships. I was hand paddling at one point. Oh, the shame.

Wyoming, why do you hate me? I thought we were on pretty good terms lately. Sure we've had our scraps. I mean I thought you were over my cursing your winter? Seriously. I even played Mahjong with your grandparents like you asked...

Then you pull this windless tomfoolry on Saturday. How am I supposed to take that?

And the very next day you blow so strong again? Sinister.

Should've just dumped me for my best friend and gotten it over with...

Why Wyoming, why...


The crew: Me, Hannah, Josh, Uncle Bob and Aunt Cheryl. We didn't really sail as much as we did float in place, but at least the conversation was worthwhile. Good times, crew, even if the Equality State didn't hold up its end of the bargain. Anybody know a good divorce lawyer?

Several snapshots of Texas v. Wyoming scenery. I realize this is filler blog material, but work with me people...we'll see about a whole-milk blog post after the paper deadline this week.
nobody likes the skim, in any type of situation...

I-25 in Wyoming, cruising south about 50 miles north of Cheyenne. One of the windiest corridors of the US. It's delightfully green for about 10 days of the year, before returning to a dusty brown for the remaining 355 days.


Lo, the much sought after Texas Hill Country, north of Fredericksburg. I could easily live here I decided (though in civilization, not the prairie). Nice people, laid-back lifestyle, lots of cycling. Though my brother says Texas' real contribution to society is, ahem, "high-quality" females...

I would say Texans are similar to Wyomingites in the distinct love for their respective states, though the "Texan Hubris" tends to skirt the cultish/freaky scale at times as we all know. Cool it, Bevo-ites. Wyoming does.

Go Team Astana!

A few teasers leading to a more complete blog post about my army banding experience in Tejas in June. This'll do for now. Whistle whetted?...check.


Brass quintet at Fredericksburg, Texas park. I think we were playing Washington Post march right about then...


Terrorbones (one of the most ruthless and powerful of all the dinosaurs) performing at same venue. The house was literally brought down. Holla. No animals were harmed...


And a chillaxing shot, for good measure. At Sea World, just about to go over the "big hill." Short bus MVPs fo sho.

Sister Dinah had her babe this morn in OKC. Landed a good'n from the looks of it, tipping the scales at 7 lbs. 8 oz. I think she's a keeper, Mammy! She's now my second niece in the lineup. Woot woot! Mom and baby are doing well (I think I'm pretty much obligated to write this phrase. But thankfully it's true). Welcome to the wide world, Genevieve Simone L'Heureux.

First words of wisdom: be nice to your younger siblings...when you have some. Deal? Awesome.

My dearly beloved, it has been too long. For this I offer my ashes and sackcloth. *single tear* I now realize the plight that is perhaps every blogger's to bear in his own way. That which pits the compelling "real world" against one's virtual existence. Such a nasty conflict it is.

In the past it's been said by a good friend of mine that my blog served as a kind of surrogate girlfriend (thank you, D. Shook) and that the volume of posts was directly proportional to my relationship status. If such erroneous statements are true, then I have obviously been the inattentive bf to my blogosphere these last months. Alas my job now plays the tantalizing mistress. *ghasts* And she's a demanding bird at that.

In any case, I'm on a vacation of sorts these two weeks with the usual summer army banding. Hence I have the time to bring you these riveting updates that you no doubt pine for fortnightly. It's been good to see trees again and walk among hoards of people in one place. So far we've hit several Texas towns on our tour and are lighting up San Antonio currently. Holla.

And it's been great to see my Mid-West based familia. Been a few months. Got some hugs all around, patted the pooches and met the newest family member!

And thus, my new niece, Julianne (below). This little bundle o' J is almost four months old now and can eat bear claws two at a time! She said something about the Boston Marathon next year...


She's a cute'n. I told her to stay away from boys and to consult my brother with all her relationship questions. She said there's this one boy she's texting a lot who she met in the hospital birthing rooms. Riskay...


Papa Stu and his first grand daughter. A lot of pride here.




I got to hold her some as well. Score! She's a breeze. She mostly contemplates how to execute a future hostile takeover of her older brothers' (see below) empire.


Great to see the monkies too. Many bananas are going toward growing these fellers into men in their urban Tulsa jungle.


Brother's fam in its entirety. Yeaaahhh Jonathan!


And a final picture of Chubby Dinah and nephew Joshy. I can finally call my sister chubby and have it mean something! She's heavy with child and due with her first bambino on July 2. She is pretty pumped (as we all are) for the munchkin's arrival. Stay tuned for updates.

Good night, San Antonio!

Sunset on Laramie Peak (elev. 10,000) near Douglas. Oh Sun, how I've missed thee these past months. Welcome back to the northern hemisphere.

Unearthed these oldies recently to much personal enjoyment. Lo, my old dorm room in Gomer Jones House. Obviously the cool RAs have hammocks in their abodes. That increased pedestrian/vagrant traffic in my room by an impressive margin.




And this was the most vile room I ever chanced upon in my dorm tenure. Since I lived in a building mostly composed of athletes, I'll let you guess what sport this room's slacker of a tenant played.

You guessed it: Wrestling. *shudders*

Out on county roads somewheres. This is about as green as things get around here, so I'm told. Gettin' warmer, Mammy!


And I caught this damsel red handed the other night as I idled up to my parking spot. A midnight snack, munching on the neighbor's bushes.


Sorry, Jane. I'm on to you. And don't even try to give me the bambi eyes. Your powers are useless on me...

If you've spent most of your life in a temperate climate, the shock of a more extreme clime can remain one that doesn't quickly fade.

Thus has been this Okie's winter experience on the high, 4,800 ft. elevation plains of Wyoming these past months.

I apologize if these posts grab you as patently dud, but the weather is ALWAYS a topic of conversation in smalltown America, even for the saltiest of Wyo natives.

In other tidings, this week's headlines featured a big news story (broken by the venerable Douglas Budget, of course) about the first incidence of livestock being killed by wolves in the county since the earlier 1900s. The wolves were killed out in the '30s in Wyo but were reintroduced to the state some 400 miles from here in Yellowstone in the mid-90s. The Wolf honchos say there are about 300 wolves in the state now, with about 200 of the howlers living OUTSIDE the Park.

This is a very controversial issue as wolves are generally thought of as bad juju for the livestock livelihood and were killed off for a reason by the ranchers back in Tiggety-Two.

At any rate, I find it personally interesting that most of my adolescent life growing up in Oklahoma was spent in a moderate to strong fear, however irrational, of bears and big-toothed attack creatures. Obviously the Sooner State has none of these beasts, adding to the irrationality of my phobia all the more.

But the coincidence is not lost that now I've purposefully moved to a place where both BEARS and WOLVES reside, albeit in mostly minimal numbers.

I've got whole new volumes of content to bring up in my counseling sessions now, let me tell you. Where to start...

So, my two bits about wolves.

Also, I lied about it never snowing again, or rather the pundits did. We got another six inches last week.

Death and taxes, friends. Still life's only constants, especially in the month of April. Only the fool, I'm learning, builds his house upon the forecasting sands of the Wyoming springtime.

Here's to more snow, Mammy.


Last Friday morning on Fifth Street, headed to work.


My parking spot.

Jerry Seinfeld once quipped a phrase that I've related to many times since being in Wyoming.

"Where does a park ranger go to 'get away from it all'," he joked.

When you live in the country already, a quick half-mile drive will get you even more definitively out of town. This winter, when the cabin fever demons have struck and the roads have been passable, I did some local sightseeing.

These were taken a few miles outside of Douglas on county roads. Pretty choice scenery, Mammy. Thankfully the ultra-sparse traffic makes in-motion shots even less hazardous.

Thus, Converse County on a crisp April day.

Behold the stud, who thinks he's God's gift to female-horse kind.


Cud-chewing peanut gallery.


Stick a fork in her, Betty! Wide load! Any day now till she pops out a bambino.


The moo-moo stink-eye. "You wanna start something, humanoid?"


Equine Narcissus.



Shadow munch.


Behold, the new hooves! Lil' baby colt, just a few days old. Amazing these guys can run around like champs only 20 minutes out-tha' womb. They don't even ask for college money neither.


"Mom, who's that weirdo human with the camera?..."
"Just stay calm, son. Humans are dumb animals. He can't see us if we don't move..."


Trotting lessons.

The pundits say the winter snows are over. Just have a "feeling" in their bones. Or something. Whatever climatic juju they're smoking, I hope they're right. I'm ready for this season to be over. Holy Moses.

Though I've realized it's not so much the cold that I dislike, but what it does to people. Like the venerable grizzly, folks get a bit cranky and head for their dens about the time snowflake No. 1 falls to the autumn ground. Everybody folds his wings neatly and coops up for the winter. Physically and socially too, from what I gather. I've often felt like the only one even occasionally walking the town streets these winter months. Kind of a bummer when people seemingly pack up shop from fall till spring, and only return to normal life post-thaw. A Van Winkle-esque maneuver, if only in miniature duration.

There's really something different about northern folks and how their winters affect them. The southerners of our country really seem to be less hibernation prone, from my observations. Not that I'd be different over time, necessarily. But still kind of a downer, to the idle observer/pedestrian appreciator.

I've come to the personal conclusion that unless you can regularly take advantage of the cold (skiing, snow shoeing, sledding, etc.), it's not really worth it. The advent of USING the cold instead of just BEARING it is one I like a lot more. Perhaps I'll someday get to test my theory. For now you'll have to trust me...

At any rate, a recent traipse in said wintry biznass left me with some snowified versions of one of my fav Douglas locations. The cemetery. Perhaps this is strange, but I often jog/walk through there (when it's warmer, of course).

Powerfully peaceful place though...


Sand people walk in single file to hide their numbers...


Evergreen sandwich.


Doe(s) a deer...


Mystery marks. Yeti?!


Animal crossing.


Five o'clock shadows.


Bare barked.


Radar-equipped neighbors.