Monday, November 30, 2009
WHITES BOOTS, I bought my first pair of Whites boots while working for an Outfitter in Jackson Hole Wyoming in 1977. They were basic Packers and I wore them for years when ever I was horseback. AP
HARD CORE STUFF! very nice
Came across this site a few weeks ago and marked it. The guy, "Dave" has a great story and more than the story being good, it's also a success. I haven't held one of the bags in person yet, but from the pictures they look substantial enough. If anyone owns one let me know, I've been looking for years for a bag like his large Briefcase to go with "my" rusty AK, but haven't found exactly the one.
www.saddlebackleather.com I like his take on faith as well. AP
Sunday, November 29, 2009
I met David a few years back while with my wife Sandi, up in Philadelphia at Olympic Trials. She had gotten to know him a few years before at Nationals. Sandi has been involved with USA Gymnastics for years and lectures at their events. Anyway I was completely impressed with the man. He was very humble, genuine and personable, and is always the gentleman. It has been a pleasure following his career and getting to know him and I wish him the best of travels as he takes a very deserving "year off". David has a lot of family in Italy and is traveling around Europe for a year reconnecting with his heritage. I painted David a few years ago for Sandi to hang in her gym "Geronimo Gymnastics" he was nice enough to sign the painting for us and I must say he represents the sport perfectly. Ap here is a link to David's Travel Blog, www.duratejourney.blogspot.com
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Nashville Cats: Salute to Norbert Putnam
Alabama-bred bassist Norbert Putnam made his name as one of the cadre of soulful players who created pop and R&B classics in Muscle Shoals in the early 1960s. Putnam moved to Nashville in 1965, and his work graces locally recorded hits such as Joan Baez’s “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down,” Bobby Goldsboro’s “Honey,” Elvis Presley’s “Promised Land,” Linda Ronstadt’s “Long Long Time,” and Tony Joe White’s “Polk Salad Annie.” In addition, Putman is a successful producer (Joan Baez, Jimmy Buffett, Dan Fogelberg), publisher (Danor Music), and business owner (Quadrofonic Studio, Bennett House, Georgetown Mastering). This interview will be illustrated with photos, film footage, and recordings from throughout Putnam’s career. A signing will follow in the Museum Store. Included with museum admission. Free to museum members.
OUR MISSION is to identify and preserve the evolving history and traditions of country music and to educate its audiences.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Sitting here in a bush camp in Block C of the Reserve and listening to a baboon barking down the way along the banks of the Rio Lugenda, probably at a passing Leopard or probably nothing at all, the air is blessed with a small breeze warm to the touch, the sounds are minimal as the noon hour approaches and most birds and the like that have chattered all morning are looking for a cool place to sit and cool while the noon day heat passes. Januario begins the noonday radio broadcast to the other various camps searching for news, listening to the latest and noting the different requests by others, supplies needed for the various camps stretched up and down the 200 kilometer stretch of Lugenda River that makes up Block C and then to the north in Block A to the border of Tanzania, beyond the American owned Block B. A total distance of over 400 Kilometers that will take you just over four days of very hard driving to navigate end to end..
Its warm but the breeze has started up, hopefully to continue on into the night. Looking out across the river, very low at this time of year and at this particular spot, “Lichenge Camp”, its approximately a quarter to a half mile wide. The main channel keeps to the middle and fingers still hold water going in and out around sand bars and banks that have only come to be seen this month as the water recedes. Four Kudu cows come to drink on the far side as well as a family of warthogs. I’m no stranger to them as they are regulars and often spook each other coming and going down for their afternoon sip.
I think of the Bat Hawk we saw the night before as I look down off the bank to the floor of the river below the camp, where as we waded and talked a young Bull Elephant chased us up the bank to the dinning room showing us just how close we can get to nature here.
Not a manmade sound can be heard, only a dove calling and the splash of a Kingfisher fishing for his supper out in front. The Kudu and Wart hogs have returned up the far bank and drifted into the bush to places unknown to me. I look and listen but there is only silence for now as the sun lights the sides of the mountains of granite to my right and a black tail kite floats past.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Niassa Reserve seethes under the heat of November, every tree, every blade of grass, thorn, and animal, looking to the sky for relief, relief that’s sure to come as always this month or next. Not, mind you, without a little or a lot of teasing from the clouds. The birds and animals can feel the change and you might think you can, but not really, you can only hypothesize. Here you have to be born and survive to a proper adulthood if your that fortunate, man or beast. Maybe then you will be granted the knowing of what is coming down the wind, sometime it’s better not to know.
I unfortunately or fortunately wasn’t born here nor did I have to fight to reach adulthood as everything born here is destined to do. Tealeaves were cast, read and the Display Window orchestrated as to effect my wanderings and to this place of wildness I arrived. As I look back beyond the obvious, deeper and deeper into that large dressed window that brought me here, a very complex scene continues to emerge. So I stand and gaze in so as to enlighten myself of all that Niassa is, all that she will or will not become and in this manner I have stepped into a life I will never truly be able to completely embrace as I would like, but just the same what little I have been so graciously blessed to participate in I truly relish as some of the best living I have ever experienced.
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- Just Another Savage!
- I’m a Southern Boy, just 56 last November, I get around here and there, Central America, Africa, Red Bay. I’m a Father, Grandfather, Husband, Artist and general flunky of sorts. Live in a little historic town in an old building I own, upstairs in a loft thing. Just wanted to hear myself think I guess, talk about the need of simplification, show some art, express an interest or two, and see where it goes. That’s it!, That’s the deal.