Yes! There is Justice.

REVENGE

I may have mentioned that I have a bunch of kids. And sometimes when you're the parent of a lot of kids, you .... well, feel the need for a little revenge. Arguably this is not a trait one should be proud of. But the lord must allow us just a little, as long as no one gets hurt. Right?

My son Sean, twenty, has what I consider a lazy streak. Not exactly a ball of fire if you get my meaning. He considers it a good day if all he has to do is play games on the computer, watch movies, hang out with his girlfriend, topped off with a nice dinner.

So I, as a parent, am trying to get him to be just a little more pro-active. Some of my suggestions have been: start to college and get a job. Not extreme principles I would say.

To date he has started school. My wife and I are still waiting for phase two (the job) to kick in.

So once in a while I have him assist me with my work, this usually involves some driving, and for this I pay him rather handsomely.

On this particular journey we had to deliver a car to Winchester, Virgina and then continue to Buffalo, New York, and subsequently back home. A loop of a little over thirteen hundred miles. Once the first leg of the trip is over, approximately three hundred miles, his work is done.

Now I suppose I could have him share in the driving during the remaining thousand miles. However, call me crazy, but I have made a personal commitment not to die at this kid's hands. So I do the driving of the truck. In his defense, he seems to be a very cautious driver, but I tend to lean toward the insurance company's line of reasoning; "Never trust any male under the age of twenty-five while operating a motor vehicle". Trust me, I am slowly coming around to the really great part of this story.

So we have done the car drop in Winchester and are now headed for Buffalo. Along the way near this beautiful little town by the name of Ellicottville, in New York, I miss a turn and am in the process of finding a place to turn the truck around and get back on track. Sean says; "Oh Dad just continue on down this road and it will bring us back out on the highway that we want to be on." Additionally he says; "See, you can see the highway right across there", and points to the north east. I agree to give his idea a try rather than try to turn the truck around.
Well, we hadn't gone too far down the road when I see a sign that says: Low Bridge Clearance Ahead. I continue on until a sign appears that actually states the height that will fit under this bridge. New York state is full of these low bridges.
At this point we are nearly at the bridge on this lonely country road, and Sean asks, "how will you know if it will go under."
I explain to him I'll pull up to the bridge and he can get out on the running board and see if it looks like we'll fit. Well, to shorten the story, we don't. So I back up, turn around and we eventually get back to the turn we missed and head on our merry way.
The delivery gets made, and we are headed back.
We make it back to Ellicottville, NY where we spend the night. Great little town... Golf in the summer and skiing in the winter. Complete with their own little brewery.
While the dead beat plays games in our motel room, I head out for the "tall uncut" to see if there are any people in any of the local taverns that might need to meet me.
And I have good luck, I meet a couple from Maine who discovered this little town some years ago and have been coming ever since. And they have some friends with them that have moved to the area, though not right in town. So they swap some stories with me and I manage to think of a couple of my own. Oh, don't worry, I told em' right up front that I never let a lie get in the way of a good story. In fact you might say that's my mantra. So a good time was had by all and I stumble, I mean walk, back to my motel room, where the game player is still hard at it.
The next morning we head out relatively early. However after just a few minutes of conversation and right after breakfast, Sean crawls in the back of the truck and goes to sleep. Which is O.K. I guess, except he just slept all night just like me and now he is back to sleep.
More parental wrangling goes on in my head and by now I figure if I can develop a "self starter pill", I'm destined to be a millionaire. Because I know several parents going through the same thing.
Well I haven't come up with the pill, however I try to find a positive in things, even lazy kids. So my positive thought on this whole thing is: "These people are our competition in life".
Well down the road we go, me driving and Sean sleeping. At one point I pull into a Bar-B-Q place that can accommodate trucks, turn off the diesel engine and go inside for lunch. When I return, you guessed it he's still slumbering away.
This goes on for some hours and finally I have to fuel, so I pull in and fuel and when I come out receipt in hand, low-and-behold, Sean is up sitting in the passenger seat. I got in and he says; "When are we going to have lunch?" Not a clue, I tell you, not a clue. First I give him "the look" (you know the one) and then I explain the unfortunate facts to him and away we go.
We haven't traveled very many miles when Sean, sitting in the passenger seat, dozes off again.
The picture goes something like this... Bob is driving and Sean is making little spit trails down the passenger window, as he sleep and drools.
But here is where it gets good. I see we are approaching another of those train bridges. And it looks a lot like the one we had to back away from earlier in our journey. In fact it is practically identical except it isn't the same one and the signs indicate that it is safe for us to pass under.

So the stage is set, we are racing toward this bridge at 65 MPH, Sean is drooling, Bob is driving, and just before we get there I scream; "SEAN IS THIS THAT DAMN LOW BRIDGE?" He sort of wakes up, but slowly, and then it hits him. In his mind we are moments from tearing the roof off the trailer, and doing god knows what to our personal beings.
He starts to scream; "STOP! IT'S THE BRIDGE"! Ladies and gentleman, I put the pedal to the metal and we literally screamed, under that bridge. While Sean had the palms of his hands placed firmly on the dashboard, yelling, and his fingernails biting into the dash. Doing his best imitation of "Trains Planes and Automobiles".
After just the proper amount of silence and savoring every moment, I said; "GOTCHA!"

The turtle made me do it!

For some time I have considered creating a blog. I have tried e-mail and Facebook. Of course, I still participate in both, however I thought I would try creating a blog and see how I like it. Winter is fast approaching here in the south and there will be a lot more time to spend on "indoor activities". Possibly blogging will be my cup of tea.

As I write this, I have yet to put up a profile about myself, so if you have questions, well you'll either have to ask, or fill in the blanks.

Oh yea! The turtle... the other day my son, Jeff, and I caught ourselves a rather large Snapping Turtle. The only turtle that you can still take legally in Tennessee. (Since this was written the laws in Tennessee have changed, and you can no longer take the Alligator Snapping Turtle as game)

I have made some friends here in my short tenure that have expounded on turtle as an old southern delicacy.

So we capture the turtle and put him in the back of the truck. When we arrive home with said turtle, Jeff has a cleaver and is getting ready to dispatch this big guy. I rush to the computer to find out "HOW".

The first thing I read is that the legs and the tail have the best meat... don't waste 'em. So I race back outside and yell, "STOP" at Jeff, who I'm sure is about to cut every extremity off the animal. Luckily I got there in time.

It turns out that this turtle stew thing is no easy task. First you have to find a big enough pot to boil the turtle in. Yes, shell and all. I ended up using one of those pots that you can cook an entire turkey in and this turtle barely fit. This boiling so that he is easier to de-shell.

Next I learn that there are three different kinds of meat in a turtle (is IN a turtle the proper... or, oh well). There is meat as red as beef, white as chicken and then a meat which resembles the attachments in a clam. Sort of chewy by nature, but good.

Once you get the meat out and the resident army of cats is satisfied with the heart, liver and the like, it does become easier. Now you have, oh my goodness, two pounds of really great looking meat.

I sauteed in olive oil, onion, garlic, a little Italian sausage, salt and pepper. Then added the turtle. When warmed up, I added all this to a pot that had two large cans of crushed tomatoes and stock. This I let simmer for about an hour and a half. I prepared a pot of sticky rice and served the turtle stew over the rice. It turned out great, even the resident Doubting Thomases were impressed.

No, it doesn't taste like chicken, which in my opinion is the label that people like to put on any type of exotic food. Exotic in this case, meaning something out of the ordinary.

I'm not a chef, but I do love to cook and create in the kitchen... another favorite winter pastime. The kids call my creations "Pantry Surprise".  Some are good and alas, some...

So that's my turtle stew story and I'm sticking to it. I can say that I am certain that this is part of my rite-of-passage in moving from Northern California to Northeastern Tennessee.

This is good, it feels right to sit down at the type writer (well you know) and bang something out.