Wednesday, February 16, 2011


My dance partner Phillip and I getting ready for the big dance off when we take center stage at Royal Affairs Ballroom on March 5 for Sue Weaver Dancing for the Cause.

What do the year 1967, Los Angeles, and the Green Bay Packers all have in common? Simple. Larry Jacobson. He attended Superbowl I, then known as the Supergame. Nicknamed “the can’t-miss kid” by The Los Angeles Times reporter Jerry Crowe, Larry and three others have never missed a Superbowl game. Now, The Never Miss a Superbowl Club has jet lag and we’ve all got a Superbowl XLV Hangovers here in North Texas. We’ve returned to routine, and perhaps even the lost art of dinner time conversation, the best venue on God’s green Earth for imparting or receiving life’s most valuable lessons.

To read here.

Monday, February 14, 2011

And I Think of You

by my writer friend Bryan Hutchinson.

Happy Valentine's Day! I hadn't planned on taking a moment today to stop and catch my breath early on, but after reading this I was so impressed with Bryan's work that I had to post. Amazing job!

Turn down a road… with nowhere to go. There is an absence of direction… be it fast or be it slow.
When off in the distance… the waters ripple east. The majesty of Granger… creates a visual feast.
So I pull to the side… and I exit the door. ...I climb the steep bank… and travel to the shore.
And I think about you.

Overlooking the waters… no humanistic sound can I hear. So I stop to ponder life… with no hesitation and no fear.
The wind rips violently… through the mighty tree tops. The water ravishes the banks… flowing right over the rocks.
The fowl fight the air… trying hard to stay in flight. The moon takes its place… in the midst of days bright light.
The browner grass of winter... fights hard to just survive. Yet in this moment down deep inside… I am reminded that I truly am alive.
And I think of you.

The adventures we have shared… be them short or be them long. The feeling of a slow dance… and the memory of a song.
The images of childhood… before the days we share. Frolicking in the freedom… when life had not a care.
The pains that have drawn us together… and the pains that have torn us apart. The love that flourishes deep within… the promise of a daily fresh start.
It’s seems as life chases me daily… with the immense power of a train. But here in this quiet moment… sweeter memories come into my brain.
And I think of you.

The touch of your palm… under my finger’s print. The perfection of your body… as if it were pressed in a mint.
The glow of your teeth… like the shimmer of fresh milk. The flow of your hair… like supple wave of spring’s silk.
The form of your breasts… your stomach and your hips. The glimmer of your eyes…and depth of your lips.
My mind runs wild… with anticipatory glee. And here in this wilderness I bow to my knee.
And I think of you.

The whirling wind around me… seems to disappear. And suddenly in my mind.. you are so near.
I can taste your sweet breath… and feel your gentle touch. And I wonder how one can experience… a melodious bliss like such.
The image is so brilliant… as if captured in time. As we make love… everything else seems so sublime.
There is power and passion… mixed with gentle soft hands. And the glass of moments captured… continually deposits her sands.
And I think of you.

Then in an instant… I again start to mourn. For in the near tidewaters… a fisherman blasts his horn.
As if a hypnotist snapped his fingers… your image is lost. Now I am left wondering… what could be the cost.
To gain for a second… the promise of the past. To live each and every moment… as if it be the last.
To find the missing ingredient… to this puzzle we call life. To strangle the hands of time… and put it to the knife.
And I think about you.