Since I will be dressed in camo this week and hopefully concealed from the deer and maybe even politics, here is a reprint of one of my old favorites that if you have not seen, I hope you will enjoy. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving!
What ever happened to strike anywhere matches? I happened upon this little clandestine plot and I am not sure who is responsible but I think it could be the commies or maybe even terrorist, or at the very least those forces within our government that think we are too stupid to make our own decisions. Who ever is responsible I would like to take them to task.
As a young child I remember my great uncle, who kinda served as my grandfather in my formative years, always striking a match on the seat of his pants. If you are old enough to remember black and white TV then you remember the pose, you hike your leg and reach around and strike that wooden kitchen match on the seat of your britches. They are called friction matches, they have the little white sulfur tip and you can strike them anywhere. You didn’t have to have the box or anything like that. A pill bottle full of these little wonders could be kept in the tool box or by the burn barrel or just about anywhere. Who out there doesn’t remember the little tin box on the wall in Granny’s kitchen? It held a whole box of these little wooden wonders and it was gravity fed. They just fell to the bottom in the little tray, always at the ready to light the stove or the pilot light on the floor furnace and I don’t remember anybody’s Granny being in any kind of jeopardy because of this ignition source. High cholesterol from all that fried chicken was more of an issue but I don’t ever remember an obituary where a kitchen match was the culprit. Kitchen matches were so common and so simple, but I challenge you to try to find them and I think you will see what I mean. I think that you will be surprised how scarce they have become. I know you are probably thinking," My goodness Don, get a life" but here’s how I got to this point.
The conversation occurred quite by chance as a bunch of guys were gathered at a friends house watching Texas Tech beat the stuffin’ out of our beloved O-State Cowboys. As the score became more lopsided the conversation veered towards what it should be this time of year, deer camp. This same group used to make an annual pilgrimage to Southeast Oklahoma during deer season and sometimes we even hunted. But the camp and the comradery were what we really enjoyed. My friend Rod Smith asked "has anybody seen any strike anywhere matches lately?" and we all said "well sure, you can get them anywhere" and he said "No, no you can’t. I’ve looked at the dollar stores, Wal-Mart and even the grocery store; I think they have been taken off the market." Well friends and neighbors, in the twenty-first century you know what we do…we Google it. So when I got home the first thing I did was do a quick little search for strike anywhere matches. Interesting what you find out when you Google. Apparently this is not a local problem, this may be global. There is an entire chat room devoted to this very subject, with people from all walks of life bemoaning the difficulty of finding this very common household product. There is even talk of these matches being outlawed in some states. You guessed it, liability issues. I hope I don’t find out that the office of Homeland Security has determined in its infinite wisdom, that the strike anywhere match is now to dangerous too be sold on the open market, but I think it has.
I don’t remember if the terrorists used these in 9-11 or not but I kinda doubt it. There is even talk in these chat rooms about these matches having Hazmat designation, which means they are considered hazardous material, which I believe boarders on the insane. I remember as a child we used to make stink bombs out of an ink pen, a simple bobby pin and one of these matches. I don’t believe anybody ever died or lost an eye or had any kind of permanent scars from the lowly friction match but I do remember an upset teacher or two. But, somebody somewhere in a big fancy office, who probably never lit a match on the seat of their pants, decided for us that these were too dangerous for the American public.
Now I know that I should use this space to discuss this week in Oklahoma politics but I can’t let this go without at least a little rant about big brother protecting us from ourselves. I challenge you to go shopping, and try to find these matches. I did find a source at a small hardware store, I bought the last three boxes and told them to order me a case and I would buy them all. And I think I will keep them under lock and key and hope my name hasn’t been flagged by the secret agents in the U.S. Government or the "double naught spies" that ‘ol Jethro used to talk about on the Beverly Hillbillies. I bet ‘ol Jed Clampett could light a match on the seat of his pants. I promise I am not going to over throw anything, I just want to light my burn barrel with friction matches in a little water proof pill bottle that I keep down by the shop.
The funny thing is, some would argue that they have been replaced by the these new fangled long stemmed lighters but I am here to tell you whoever designed that little gem is an idiot, they light about three times and then you throw them away. But I am sure that we are much safer. But I promise you we went backward not forward, kinda like "if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it." I know this seems like a little thing but I think it shows how silly we can get when we start having discussions on safety.
Notice I didn’t tell you where my source was, it’s my own little honey hole, like a secret bass pond or a secret grove of trees where the big buck hangs out. You can torture me, but I ain’t talking. So if you find any strike anywhere wooden matches you better buy them before the government totally outlaws them, for your own good. My goodness what’s next, the round toothpick? God help us. Kinda makes me want to eat paste and run with scissors just to make sure I am still alive, I am such a rebel.
If you would like to contact me, while I’m at the Capitol, please don’t hesitate to call 800-522-8502 or send an email to donarmes@okhouse.gov .
And here’s a little something to think about, as you go down the road:
"The sky never falls all at once – it’s always a little at a time." -Don Armes
Monday, November 22, 2010
Thursday, November 18, 2010
So Long, Dad.
As most of you know by now, my dad passed away last week marking the end of an era for our family. I cannot say it was not without some degree of relief. Not so much for us but for him, because for the last year, his health had declined dramatically. My dad was a Navy veteran. He joined up when he was 17 and spent two years on an aircraft carrier and then a destroyer in the sea of Japan during the Korean War. He was just a regular guy but he did his part to keep the war ships in operation and I am proud of his service to our country. My dad’s name was Donald Caz Armes. His father, my grandfather was Marion Caz Armes. The name Caz had to be from somewhere back in the family. Everybody I have talked to said “what a cool name”. But, my middle name is “Lee”. I guess he thought “Caz” was an awful thing to name a kid. I remember a lot of the old timers in my family referring to my grandfather as “Caz”. My dad and his brother always called him “Pop”.
My dad’s life was far from a storybook. He and my mom divorced when I was very young, in fifth grade. For many years, my sister Laura and I were not around my dad much. But, for the final part of his life, I realized that there can always be a rebirth. It is never too late to work on a relationship. Dad lived in Ft. Worth and was Head of Security for the Tandy Corporation. He had been in the security business for a number of years and had spent time with the Pinkerton Agency as wells as Guardsmark Security. During his time in Texas, he remarried and I have a half sister from that union named Melissa.
About 15 years ago he had a heart attack and almost died. That could have been the end of his story, but in reality that was the beginning. After recovering from quadruple bypass surgery, he moved to Oklahoma and spent 15 years as “Grandpa” to my girls. He helped us clerk auctions, was a great deal of help to me in taking care of cattle and was a pretty good hand on a tractor, as well as a good herdsman helping his granddaughters with their livestock show projects. When Dede and I went to work for the Bank of Elgin and were hired to open a new branch in Cache, Oklahoma, dad became the currier for The Bank of Elgin which evolved into what is now Liberty National Bank. It was a great job for a semi-retired guy because he made the rounds with each day’s work from each bank branch and usually got off early enough to be Kelsey’s ride home. She would get out of school and meet him at the bank and they would come home and take care of the animals together. When we moved into Western Comanche County, he came with us and lived on the farm right next door. He was an integral part of our family. I hope that the last chapter of his life was, for the most part, happy. As with most people’s lives, there were ups and downs. I know that his final years he shared with us on our farm on Pecan Creek were good ones. He spent many mornings watching a flock of wild turkey crossing the yard or watching a little band of deer make their way through the mesquite trees and living what I hope was a pretty good life. His life was pretty simple but I hope that I was able to honor him by providing him a home and a sense of family. I know that when he died, he did not die alone. He died around a family that loved him and he will be missed. He spent the last six months at the Lawton Veteran’s Center pretty much confined to a scooter but at least for a while, was able to get around and visit and even got to do a little fishing, which was probably the one thing that he thoroughly enjoyed. I was so glad we had a facility like the Veteran’s Center that was able to care for him and provide some quality of life to an old Navy veteran with a bad heart. I know that he was always proud of me. When I had my first campaign in 2002, he took the camper shell off his pickup and welded up a frame and carried a “Don Armes” sign with an American flag in the back of his Ford Ranger. I had scheduled a time this past session for my dad to serve as Veteran of the Week. My only regret is that I did not do that sooner, because he got sick and was not able to attend. That was really the beginning of the end as his health continued to decline. I had made up my mind that this year he would be there, even if he had to come in his scooter. But it wasn’t to be. Monday, I hope we made up for it as we laid him to rest at the Ft. Sill National Cemetery. A small trio of Navy men expertly folded the flag that was draped over his coffin and handed the flag to me while a young bugler played taps. One of the neat things about where his final resting place will be is that his gravesite will be right East of Ronnie Jeff Glover’s front pasture and he will always be looking over a pasture full of really good cattle which is actually kind of fitting because the last years of his life were overlooking our pasture and I think that was when he was the happiest.
For me, there is a sense of peace that I was able to provide a place and a family for my dad. I hope that I was a good son and was able to honor his life by caring for him at the end of it. Our family was very grateful for all the support of our community and friends. We will forever be indebted to all those who uplifted us at the passing of Donald Caz Armes. So long, dad. May God rest your soul.
"I don't care how poor a man is; if he has family, he's rich". -Colonel Potter
My dad’s life was far from a storybook. He and my mom divorced when I was very young, in fifth grade. For many years, my sister Laura and I were not around my dad much. But, for the final part of his life, I realized that there can always be a rebirth. It is never too late to work on a relationship. Dad lived in Ft. Worth and was Head of Security for the Tandy Corporation. He had been in the security business for a number of years and had spent time with the Pinkerton Agency as wells as Guardsmark Security. During his time in Texas, he remarried and I have a half sister from that union named Melissa.
About 15 years ago he had a heart attack and almost died. That could have been the end of his story, but in reality that was the beginning. After recovering from quadruple bypass surgery, he moved to Oklahoma and spent 15 years as “Grandpa” to my girls. He helped us clerk auctions, was a great deal of help to me in taking care of cattle and was a pretty good hand on a tractor, as well as a good herdsman helping his granddaughters with their livestock show projects. When Dede and I went to work for the Bank of Elgin and were hired to open a new branch in Cache, Oklahoma, dad became the currier for The Bank of Elgin which evolved into what is now Liberty National Bank. It was a great job for a semi-retired guy because he made the rounds with each day’s work from each bank branch and usually got off early enough to be Kelsey’s ride home. She would get out of school and meet him at the bank and they would come home and take care of the animals together. When we moved into Western Comanche County, he came with us and lived on the farm right next door. He was an integral part of our family. I hope that the last chapter of his life was, for the most part, happy. As with most people’s lives, there were ups and downs. I know that his final years he shared with us on our farm on Pecan Creek were good ones. He spent many mornings watching a flock of wild turkey crossing the yard or watching a little band of deer make their way through the mesquite trees and living what I hope was a pretty good life. His life was pretty simple but I hope that I was able to honor him by providing him a home and a sense of family. I know that when he died, he did not die alone. He died around a family that loved him and he will be missed. He spent the last six months at the Lawton Veteran’s Center pretty much confined to a scooter but at least for a while, was able to get around and visit and even got to do a little fishing, which was probably the one thing that he thoroughly enjoyed. I was so glad we had a facility like the Veteran’s Center that was able to care for him and provide some quality of life to an old Navy veteran with a bad heart. I know that he was always proud of me. When I had my first campaign in 2002, he took the camper shell off his pickup and welded up a frame and carried a “Don Armes” sign with an American flag in the back of his Ford Ranger. I had scheduled a time this past session for my dad to serve as Veteran of the Week. My only regret is that I did not do that sooner, because he got sick and was not able to attend. That was really the beginning of the end as his health continued to decline. I had made up my mind that this year he would be there, even if he had to come in his scooter. But it wasn’t to be. Monday, I hope we made up for it as we laid him to rest at the Ft. Sill National Cemetery. A small trio of Navy men expertly folded the flag that was draped over his coffin and handed the flag to me while a young bugler played taps. One of the neat things about where his final resting place will be is that his gravesite will be right East of Ronnie Jeff Glover’s front pasture and he will always be looking over a pasture full of really good cattle which is actually kind of fitting because the last years of his life were overlooking our pasture and I think that was when he was the happiest.
For me, there is a sense of peace that I was able to provide a place and a family for my dad. I hope that I was a good son and was able to honor his life by caring for him at the end of it. Our family was very grateful for all the support of our community and friends. We will forever be indebted to all those who uplifted us at the passing of Donald Caz Armes. So long, dad. May God rest your soul.
"I don't care how poor a man is; if he has family, he's rich". -Colonel Potter
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
It's Finally Over
I don’t know about you, but it took a lot of Maalox to get me through this election cycle. Every two year cycle it seems like it gets uglier and uglier. It very well could be me and my perspective. Being inside politics, I personally know most of the people. It is hard to watch when good people get beat up and it makes it even harder when you know the other guy is lying. Yes, I said it out loud. In this new political environment, I am an old guy. So, maybe I grow weary and less impressed with political rhetoric and yes, with the lies. We, as a society, are a strange bunch. We say how much we hate negative campaigning but we pay big money to watch UFC fights and cage matches and football and we like sports like bull riding and stock car racing and we do not seem to be phased by blood and gore. It seems like this new generation kinda likes “smash mouth politics”. We act civilized but are we really? There is always the dynamic when there is a male/female race. It seems okay for a man to hit a man but I do think it makes, even the toughest of us, a little queasy for a man to hit a woman.
I have learned a lot more in the last few years about politics than I ever really wanted to know. It is interesting when you are actually in it how much more you pick up when watching races. A candidate very seldom goes negative unless they are behind. How do they know they are behind? From polling data. They pay for a consulting firm to poll their district, county or state. They disseminate that information, analyze it and if they find themselves behind, out comes the negative. It was interesting to watch some of the statewide races this year as some of the negative attacks occurred and some candidates chose the high road. As you are reading this, political agencies all over the state and nation will be crunching numbers and looking at results and analyzing the numbers to see what worked and what did not work because in two years, they will have to do it again. As normal people go back to their lives, these political guys will be strategizing on how this new generation of voters reacted to these attacks, as well as how successful the responses, whether positive or negative, affected the outcome of the election. I do want to commend our gubernatorial candidates for a fairly clean contest. But, from there down ballot, it was ugly.
We always say that it is hard to get good people to run for office. While I think that we have cleaned up government quite a bit in the last few years, I also know from having been involved in my own race as well as others, that when people see an election cycle like we have just seen, it makes it really hard to get quality people to put their name on the line and open up their life to the public knowing that there are going to be ugly things said about them all in the name of politics, which seems to be okay, except that it’s really not. All of us, whatever your walk of life, were raised better. We were not taught that it is okay to bad mouth others. In fact, most of us were taught that if you do not have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. It seems that in the political arena, we forget our raising. An issue or an open seat gives us a green light to try to pulverize another human being. I’m sorry, but I just cannot accept that and I don’t think any of us should. I realize it is a pipe dream for me to think that anything is really gonna change or that we are gonna learn to play nice, especially when nice guys finish last a lot of times. It is a tough, ugly, hurtful business. If I do nothing else in my tenure a legislator, I hope that I educate my constituents and friends to look beyond what you read and to think and study the people who ask to be your public servants. Learn as much as you can about candidates and issues before you make your decisions.
I have heard it said that the only time negative campaigning works is when you are behind, ahead, or just even. It is true and I guess, shame on us for letting that be. Now it’s time to put the knives up and get to work. There are a lot of ruffled feathers to be smoothed and a lot of wounds to heal. To use an old cowboy phrase “some of the gashes need to heal up and hair over” because in two years we will do it again. God help us.
“Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it whether it exists or not, diagnosing it incorrectly, and applying the wrong remedy.” –Earnest Benn
I have learned a lot more in the last few years about politics than I ever really wanted to know. It is interesting when you are actually in it how much more you pick up when watching races. A candidate very seldom goes negative unless they are behind. How do they know they are behind? From polling data. They pay for a consulting firm to poll their district, county or state. They disseminate that information, analyze it and if they find themselves behind, out comes the negative. It was interesting to watch some of the statewide races this year as some of the negative attacks occurred and some candidates chose the high road. As you are reading this, political agencies all over the state and nation will be crunching numbers and looking at results and analyzing the numbers to see what worked and what did not work because in two years, they will have to do it again. As normal people go back to their lives, these political guys will be strategizing on how this new generation of voters reacted to these attacks, as well as how successful the responses, whether positive or negative, affected the outcome of the election. I do want to commend our gubernatorial candidates for a fairly clean contest. But, from there down ballot, it was ugly.
We always say that it is hard to get good people to run for office. While I think that we have cleaned up government quite a bit in the last few years, I also know from having been involved in my own race as well as others, that when people see an election cycle like we have just seen, it makes it really hard to get quality people to put their name on the line and open up their life to the public knowing that there are going to be ugly things said about them all in the name of politics, which seems to be okay, except that it’s really not. All of us, whatever your walk of life, were raised better. We were not taught that it is okay to bad mouth others. In fact, most of us were taught that if you do not have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. It seems that in the political arena, we forget our raising. An issue or an open seat gives us a green light to try to pulverize another human being. I’m sorry, but I just cannot accept that and I don’t think any of us should. I realize it is a pipe dream for me to think that anything is really gonna change or that we are gonna learn to play nice, especially when nice guys finish last a lot of times. It is a tough, ugly, hurtful business. If I do nothing else in my tenure a legislator, I hope that I educate my constituents and friends to look beyond what you read and to think and study the people who ask to be your public servants. Learn as much as you can about candidates and issues before you make your decisions.
I have heard it said that the only time negative campaigning works is when you are behind, ahead, or just even. It is true and I guess, shame on us for letting that be. Now it’s time to put the knives up and get to work. There are a lot of ruffled feathers to be smoothed and a lot of wounds to heal. To use an old cowboy phrase “some of the gashes need to heal up and hair over” because in two years we will do it again. God help us.
“Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it whether it exists or not, diagnosing it incorrectly, and applying the wrong remedy.” –Earnest Benn
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