"Monteagle Musings"

Anyone who's spent the least amount of time with me realizes there are two subjects you don't broach unless you have time for detailed ramblings.  One is my involvement with the reknowned non-profit organization, The First Tee.  The other is my cherished Eastern Tennessee get-away, Monteagle.  And since I've just returned from the latter, having conducted my second consecutive photo seminar in as many years, I felt moved to explain what it is that's so special about this Smoky Mountain paradise.  But the more I thought about it, the more difficult it became to put into words.  So I've resorted to exceeding my usual spartan number of  individual blog pictures to illustrate my point.  Even this, however, has proven futile.  A mere thirteen photographs could have easily been three or four times that number,  considering I took more than 700 photographs during my most recent visit.  But I still don't think I can adequately do Monteagle justice.

The apparent physical beauty is a given.  Towering trees, flowers, winding paths and gentle breezes certainly are a start.

And then there are the activities:  swimming, biking, hiking, tennis and a myriad of lectures, lessons and seminars.

There's hardly an idle moment, unless you so chose.  There are relics to discover like a birdhouse on a bike, or snag some tadpoles below Moses Rock  or just leave your bicycles to cross the creek.

But when you get right down to it, probably one of the most magical things about Monteagle are the people.  The exuberance and innocence of the of children, the joy of family, the unspoken respect spanning generations,  and a warmth that permeates everything, whether it's a cheerful hello in passing or a handshake and a smile welcoming  you to Evening Vespers at the Chapel.

In reality, after much analyzing as to the "magic" of Monteagle, it was at a porch party one evening that a long-time Monteagle resident made the succinct observation, "Monteagle isn't a place or a thing, it's a state of mind".

As I headed back to my lodging that night, I only wished I'd thought of it......."a state of mind".  Amen to that!

 This post is dedicated to the "sparkling" Kathryn and that dazzling Dollar doll, LeNora, whose combined support spur me on to make this blog better (I hope) with each subsequent submission. 

For 68 Years an Institution

Club Schmitz began operation in 1946, surviving a fire years later only to arise from the ashes like The Phoenix and until recently seemed indestructible.  It was, after all, one of Dallas's most recognizable watering holes with the coldest beer in town, soon complimented with a burger that would hold its on against all comers.  Club Schmitz attracted mechanics, Harley riders, bank examiners and presidents, a gaggle of giggling secretaries, celebrities, politicians, professional athletes, corporate pilots and airline hostesses headquartered at nearby Love Field, to name just a few.  The clientele seemed endless in its diversity.  But the one thread that bound this cross section of humanity was, simply put, a chilled brewsky and a decent cheeseburger, maybe with a side of chili.  And should schedules allow, there was shuffleboard to play, as well as the challenge of the not-quite-regulation pool table.  The old-fashioned jukebox helped drown many a sorrow, celebrate  countless birthdays and anniversaries or just loosen up the crowd as they started their week-end with a late Friday afternoon happy hour.   But then, most hours were "happy hours" at Club Schmitz.  Until recently.

It was probably an article in  The Dallas Morning news that reached the majority of Club Schmitz customers with the news that a gas station was to buy the property to expand its operation.  The article chronicled the more than half-century history of Club Schmitz and told how the family-run institution was handed down from one generation to another.

And it was after this article that the far-reaching clientele came flooding to Club Schmitz for one final cheeseburger and brew before that fateful final day of May, 2014 was to roll around.  This was the day that Club Schmitz would go dark  drawing to a close a rich, raucous saga.

Soon enough the game room would sit idle. Then bulldozers will arrive.
But in the interim, loyal Club "Schmitzers" will continue to flock in record numbers to this aging jewel to hoist a cold one in homage to a rich history.

Eventually, however, we'll all have to make that final trek over the patched, parched parking lot of Club Schmitz, taking with us a bellyfull of burgers and beer along with memories of  the good-times spent in this gastronomical landmark.    

 Thanks, Club Schmitz.  It's been a great ride!!!!

"On The Road to Cerrillos"

Cerrillos NM

Just down the road from Santa Fe, you'll find the little town of Cerrillos, NM.  But you better be prepared to jump off the main road or you'll miss this little jewel of a town.  There's not a lot to Cerrillos unless you stop and wander the main streets.

Shopping in Cerrillos

Bridle For Sale

And if you're fortunate like I was, you'll meet Billy and Eugene, the self-appointed Goodwill Ambassadors of this nearly-abandoned village.

Goodwill Ambassador Billy

Goodwill Ambassador Eugene

When asked if I might snap a shot of these two brothers, Billy agreed "I reckon so for the price of a cold beer".   On the other hand, Eugene really didn't seem to mind what I did as long as I'd let him finish his cigarette.   Once our contractual negotiations were completed, I snapped away, while they filled me in on some of the town's history, and they should know.  They were born and bred in Cerrillos and, from all indicators, have no intention of leaving. Especially when they can set up "Ambassador Central" right on the doorstep of Cerrillos' popular watering hole, Mary's Bar. 

The Infamous Mary's Bar

When you first stand at Mary's entrance, you'll find no signs of this weathered establishment even being open, other than the lighted neon Coors sign in the window, along with a garbage tub nearly overflowing with empty beer cans.

Entrance to Mary's 

But when you open the door, you're likely to find a long bar, a few stools and a white-haired lady behind the register.  By the way, that's Mary.  Accommodating and friendly, she looked like she could've been a grandmother.  In fact, that's exactly what she is and she has a young dynamo of a grandchild who seemed only too eager to pose for pictures as he sat on the bar waiting for his school bus.   

Mary

The Precocious Grandson

So there you have it.  A quick trip to a town with surprises galore.  And oddly enough, visited by a multitude of artists, photographers and history hounds wanting to experience a little bit of the "old" in New Mexico.  If you ever make it to this area, bring a camera and a thirst, because there's  a photo-op at every turn and Mary will have a cold one waiting for you.

"WARM WEATHER MEMORIES"

With a temperatures settling in at just above freezing under grey January skies, I realize that Dallasites don't have all that much to complain about a far as winter weather, especially in comparison to locales such as Butte MT, International Falls MN or Traverse City MI.  That still does not prevent me, however, from reminiscing about warmer days as I perused through photos in search of a particular project.  And I was so taken aback by these shirt-sleeve days, I felt obligated to share some scenes spanning the borders of Arizona, Colorado, Texas and Tennessee.  Hopefully, these will give us all something to look forward to in the lazy, hazy days of summer soon to follow.

Spider Rock, Canyon de Chelle AZ

                                       

DeGrazia Grounds & Museum, Tucson AZ

Mineola, TX

Monteagle, TN

                                       

St. Xavier Mission, Tucson AZ

Rocky Mountain National Park CO

"The Doors to Nowhere"

You almost had to do a double-take on this one.  Everything was in tact from the framework to the double doors with not one, but two sturdy deadbolt locks.....even an identifying number. One thing, however was missing. Someone either forgot to attach a building, or else a modest New Mexico bungalow had been stolen, leaving only a formal entrance. Whatever the case, a foreboding skull set an ominous tone for anyone wanting to pass through this portal to nowhere.  This would have been a great prop to one of Rod Serling's episodes on his classic "The Twilight Zone".

"In The Pink at The Komen"

This year the Komen Race for the Cure came around on a bright, nippy Saturday morning.  And for a photographer who loves to capture people, The Komen is a photo-op at every turn.  But it's also a testament of hope, perserverance, courage and strength as evidenced by the more than 3,000 participants who showed up for the 5 Kilometer event.  One way or another, they'd all been touched by cancer.  And they were there to do their part to fight this horrible disease until a cure is finally found.  Participants came in pairs; they showed up alone; they came in honor of a mother, sister or aunt; they came in numbers resembling a church choir to support a co-worker; and they came as survivors.  They marched, they posed, they laughed, they danced and one spunky young woman even took time to flash me as she saw me setting up to take her picture.  It was an electric experience with positive vibes all around.  But it's the final picture of this photo essay that really captures the essence of The Komen Foundation:  a woman still on her journey to victory over cancer supported by her husband and successfully crossing the Finish Line.  God Bless Her!!!  May God Bless them All.

This blog entry is proudly dedicated to my sister-in-law, Joan W. Haynes, an avid Komen supporter and herself a cancer survivor who proves with every passing day that The Race for The Cure works!

"Break Time"

While on assignment to capture The First Tee's Golf Marathon 2013, I happened upon a situation adjacent to the tee box of Hole 7 that truly supports the old adage, "A Picture Is Worth a Thousand Words".   But in this case, it won't take that many words to come to the conclusion;  it was lunch time at The Las Colinas Country Club.

Work commenced shortly thereafter to fully repair a sprinkler system malfunction.

"Boo-Boo Relief"

What better way to relieve the discomfort of a summer mishap than to break out an ice-cold tube of frozen slush?  It certainly seemed to work for this little camper at The Monteagle Assembly who was willing to discuss his "boo-boo", but the explanation was not about to interfere with the enjoyment found at the end of a frozen cylinder of lemon-lime.  For you older readers, this tube has obviously replaced the much-revered Popsicle, that summer staple so many of us grew up with many years ago.  Surely you remember the antiquated treat that came with two protruding wooden handles that afforded you the opportunity to break your icy treat in half and share it with a friend.  

Rush Hour -- Big Bend-Style

Two enterprising merchants cross The Rio Grande at nearby St. Elena Canyon to check several souvenir "drop offs".  Placed strategically on rocks along well-traveled paths or near a scenic lookout, these retailers garner a few bucks from tourists hiking and exploring the wilds of The Big Bend National Park.  

  Even with aspiring artists within earshot, these international merchants are undaunted as they check their take for the day,  before they slowly wind their way back towards the canyon and across the river to their home base south of the border.

"The Cutie.....and Her Beasts"

Funny what you'll run across cruising the backroads in the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee.  On an overcast Sunday afternoon, the goats seemed to be as curious in me as I was in them as they perched atop stacked logs in their grassy pen.  But the real treat was when I was approached by their owner thinking that maybe I'd be in the market to buy one of her newborns still confined to the barn.  It wasn't a kid I wanted, but a photograph of this absolutely delightful young lady.  And did she ever oblige with a smile that lit up a cloudy day.  I've said it before, and I'll say it again...."You're  missin' all the fun if you're driving the interstate.  Take a farm road and discover what Americana is all about!!!........"

"Dancing With The Pars"

OK,  I admit it.  It's a really lame pun.  However, if you've ever covered tournaments extensively as I have, you're always looking for that one bright moment somewhere....anywhere:  that emotionally charged nano-second that captures the passion, intensity or hilarity of this goofy game of golf.  Therefore, I submit this study in contortions.  A dedicated duffer valiantly coaxes a long one into the hole for a hard-earned win on his final putt of the day.

"The Hemingway Museum"

One of the most interesting aspects at the Hemingway Museum becomes apparent before you even enter the grounds of this Key West institution.  It's the wall.  How could any self-respecting, world-famous icon sign off on the workmanship of this grotesque, sloppily finished project?  Well, that's the point.  Hemingway didn't worry about the  small stuff,  because it was he and a group of his rum-swilling buddies who made up the construction crew for this project.  And as the rum consumption increased in the sweltering Florida sun, any degree of craftsmanship diminished, accounting for the wobbly, weaving, pattern of  bricks held in place with drunkenly slathered mortar.  But in their defense, the wall still stands as a tribute to this  inebriated focus  on a fortress (circa. 1930).

"Rush Hour Nassau-Style"

Your guess is as good as mine as to where this trio is headed.  Are they crew?  Or merely workman hitching a ride to a dredging operation, a drilling stand or to make repairs on a bridge, pier or dock?  Regardless of their task at hand, the commute is something most land-locked employees have got to envy.  No bumper-to-bumper gridlock as you inhale your fellow commuter's exhaust fumes, but open air, bright skies and an endless highway of crystal blue that eventually floats you to your workplace.  This truly supports the theory that it's not the destination, but the journey that's relevant.  If ever given the opportunity, maybe the trade-off from a 6-cylinder gas guzzler on the interstate to a slow, lumbering rust bucket, ain't that bad a deal????

"Tranquility & Intensity"

Since my last post was back in March, it only seemed appropriate to feature one of the photos responsible for filling my days with activities other than updating my blog. Taken during The First Tee Spring Tournament at Gleneagles Country Club, the tranquility of the lake seems an oxymoron to those golfing warriors sweating bullets over a four-foot putt.  From photo assignments on the course or in a canyon,  to conducting a photo seminar in the Smokies, it seems hours have been at a premium and certain things have suffered, including this blog.  So, it is with renewed vigor that I've set a goal of posting at least one photo a week drawing from the inventory of photos I've taken from the wilds of West Texas to the mountain greenery along the North Carolina border.  Thanks also to you folks who've inquired as to my well being as a result of my blogging absence.  I'm back and hope to share my photos with you who are willing to stick with my erratic schedule.  So...it's upward and onward!!!!!

"Has The Bug Gone to Pot?"

Absolutely not.  The Bug IS the pot!!!!

And it's also an eye-catching display on Highway 1469 as you take the country roads from Dallas to Houston.  So next time you want to avoid the interstate, don't miss shopping this rural market with its fresh produce, jams, jellies, and a variety of sales items that just aren't available anywhere else.  I doubt if "the bug" is for sale, but it wouldn't hurt to ask if you're interested.

"Arrows & Quiver"

Prominently displayed at Tulsa's Philbrook Museum in the Native American section is an integral part of Indian heritage:  hand-crafted arrows in a leather quiver.  The surprising thing for me was the workmanship that had gone into the carrier, as well as the equally intricate arrows.  Layered in varying colors and wrapped with decorative leather strips, it would appear this hunting paraphernalia was not only functional, but a frontier fashion statement of sorts.  If one is afforded the opportunity to visit the thriving town of Tulsa OK, The Philbrook Museum affords a fascinating tour of artwork and artifacts, as well as a step back in history as you tour the fabulous Philips Estate where this priceless collection is on display.

"High Rockies Tranquilizer"

If you've ever had the opportunity to hike up to the top of the falls (any falls will do), chances are you'll run across a gathering pool en route.  The mesmerizing sounds of the babbling brooks winding their way down the mountain seem to erase the tensions and relax the soul.  If you've not stopped to absorb this tranquility, take note:  you're missing out on one of many benefits the Rocky Mountains have to offer.  

"A Survivor"

In today's world of digital photography, including everything from economical point-and-shoot cameras, to elaborate Nikon systems with interchangeable lens running into the thousands of dollars, it's no surprise to find an Ansco blackbox camera in an antique shop in Eastern Tennessee. Buried by the digital revolution, this reliable companion probably captured its share of 4th of July picnics, church socials and family vacations in its heyday.   But thankfully, sitting next to this relic is a proven survivor:  a jar of homemade Apple Butter.   And if you've ever slathered a healthy dose of this breakfast staple on a golden-brown slice of toast, you'll know why I've used the word "thankfully".  Just think about it for a moment. If you're old enough to remember this homemade delight, doesn't it make your mouth water, especially if you were to add a few strips of country-cured bacon and two eggs over-easy?