Wang Ping ‘Kinship of Rivers’ Project Returns to ‘The Colony’. Trinidad Colorado

Wang Ping ‘Kinship of Rivers’ Project Returns to ‘The Colony’. Trinidad Colorado

Wang Ping ‘Kinship of Rivers’ Project Returns to ‘The Colony’. Trinidad Colorado

dumpling flyer

As promised Award Winning Laureate Wang Ping returns to The Colony to prepare her Traditional Chinese Dumpling. Kinship of Rivers continues to inspire unity and bring respect to our most precious commodity, water. Mni Wiconi, Water is Life and Wang Ping made the pilgrimage to the Oceti Sakowin Camp, along the Cannon Ball River. It became a sacred journey, a story you must hear.

Ms. Ping will share her tales of life and the people who inspired them, along the river. It’s not just about dumplings, it’s about life, cultures, diversity as well as commonalities that make us uniquely human. Kinship is a bond that needs few worlds to describe for it is more a feeling of deeper understanding, trust and sanctuary, a novelty in today’s world. She’ll be at the Amato Lumber Yard Complex, 224 E. Godding, Trinidad, Colorado, 81082 on May 21st at 3:00 pm.

Renowned Artist/Activist Sitt Nyein Aye of Burma will also be painting Murals and Big & little kids are most welcome to participate with Sitt and express themselves in color. Wang Ping will display her Everest Flag Installations. Everyone can create a flag with personal statements, concerns prayers or whatever floats their canoe in the spirit of sharing and cultural expression.

Visitors from around the planet encouraged to bring their traditional regalia, music, and stories, join in on the conversation. If you’re from another universe, ‘Sí, hablamos Pleiadean & Andromedian’. Carbon and sodium based life forms welcome. Abductions and probing prohibited where posted.  BYOAC: Bring Your Own Aluminum Cap. Bring sense of humor

Minstrels welcome to wandering about eh. Hopefully a mix of cultures will converge on this humble little gathering to give a truly international flavor to this humble event. Human beings from a throughout the universe and multi dimensional planes are invited to celibate water with Wang Ping, Sitt Nyein Aye and the artists from ‘The Colony’.

Regardless of the state of it’s state of matter, water is water.

Wang Ping will be at the Amato Lumber Yard Complex, 224 E. Godding, Trinidad, Colorado, on Sunday May 21st at 3:00 pm.

Open agenda & room for improv. 

Info:, ask for Guido, Capice?

Your Devil’s Advocate


Buffalohair: Growing Old 101: Where Does Buzzard Skin Come From?


Growing Old 101: Where Does ‘Buzzard Skin’ Come From?

120px-SanwitDon’t you just hate growing old? Does not happen over night but there is that one moment in your life you discover; “I’m and old buzzard, Shiza!!”. Was it the mirrors reflection of an old geezer running around in a tattered ‘AIM’ tee shirt, rolling a doobie with ‘Going Up the Country’ (Canned Heat) playing in the back ground? Is my spotted pony, that 53′ ‘Jockey Shift’ Harley Davidson, in the driveway actually just a glorified mobility scooter? And whats the deal with all this ‘extra skin’ under my arms? Oh, Oh yeah……….buzzard skin.


Then the youngsters quip:“Yup gramps, you’re like a bottle of vintage fine wine or aged cheese”, I’d hear. Nothing like being compared to rot gut wine and smelly cheese. Why not throw in a green fuzzy piece of stale fry-bread while you’re at it? Oh boy, I feel a lot better knowing I’m almost ready to be harvested and eaten. Maybe I’ll be made into a wafer like in the movie ‘Soylent Green’. That’s where old buzzards were collected then euthanized and baked into tasty green wafers with nutrients left behind by the former host. Rather than cremated or buried, I can choose, smoked, fried or BBQ, screw a casket, I need carry out.  Don’t laugh, we are already eating genetically mutated farm animals chock full of human DNA. Is that considered cannibalism?


Being put out to pasture at ‘Clonazepam Acres Assisted Living Home’ until I’m harvested and made into pemmican for the Winter Solstice  is not my idea of enjoying the golden years. Well youngster, you look like a zit that needs to be popped you frigging roody-poo condescending sidewalk commando. And no, I don’t have one foot in the grave, this size 13 Redwing Boot is on its way up your keester so hold on.

Administering a royal ass kicking is one of the few joys left my old and decrepit body can deliver these days. Granted, dancing around for 30 minutes in fisticuffs is just out of the question, my oxygen level you know. If I waved my arms to much for to long I might take to flight with all this buzzard skin flapping around. I’d rather disenable agent provocateurs apace, before I have to pee or watch ‘Duck Dynasty’ of course.


I used to get carded at restaurants when I asked for the senior citizen discount, sort of like when I was a kid buying booze and smokes. Short of grabbing a wheelchair or walker, waitresses never question my buzzardness anymore, they just want an Indian name. That sort of sucks, congratulations I am officially an old geezer. Suddenly I feel all warm and fuzzy inside or is it some kind of hot flash or something? Don’t ask me, this is my first time being an old buzzard. I lost my owners manual back in the 60′s but I know it’s this frigging buzzard skin that snitches me off age-wise. Screws up my tattoos real bad to. Dragons and eagles look more like worms & pigeons. Skulls & demons now resemble ‘Howdy Doody & Felix the Cat’, and all the other stuff looks like postage stamps and ‘Garbage Pail Kids’. Gawd it sucks to get old.


My long wavy dark hair is turning platinum blond and frizzy like I put my tongue in a wall socket, whats up with that? One alternative is to use that Grecian stuff but gads it turned my homie’s hair into the color of cat urine. I’ve seen dudes with dyed hair and it reminded me of an Elvis impersonator with an oversized hair piece glued to their head. At least I don’t have to comb from the back of my neck over my forehead with all 18 strands of hair. What about that colored silly string looking stuff guys spray on their melons? Guess I should not be so insensitive about hair and going bald. At least bald guys don’t get beaten to death by buzzard skin when strolling through the park on a windy day or gourd dancing at a Pow Wow or social.


I’ll take up skydiving & base jumping and use my buzzard skin as a built in Wingsuit and soar through the heavens like an eagle in flight. Merrily I will fly past towering peaks gliding through the sky in aeronautical bliss. Am I a bird or a plane I ponder, as the wind rushes past my ears. Suddenly I glide into a thicket of cottonwoods and ceder in one tumultuous crash. Branches and twigs snap as my carcass pirouettes out of control through the treetops and onto the forest floor below. Then, in an epiphanous revelation I realize; I have to either buy or pull a ripcord at Walgreens or was that Homeland? Does my Part D cover ripcords and buzzard skin? And no, I was not a bird after all, just another Dreamliner suffering equipment failure. Maybe I’ll pass on aeronautics as a second hobby.


With a growing untapped market filled with old codgers, will the manufacturers of Depends come out with sportier diapers with cool pictures like skulls & cross bones or other spiffy pirate stuff? Flames would be bitchen to sport around in or better yet “David Mann” inspired motorcycle diapers. Indian and Harley Davidson could come out with their own disposable diapers for ‘seasoned’ motorcycle enthusiast. For the elderly art aficionados Van Goug or Rembrandt themed pull-ups and Scrimshaw catheters could be the next rage. Custer and Chivington Depends would be a hot seller on my rez for obvious reasons. Customized Depends could sport pictures of ex spouses, fetid public officials and anyone else who deserves a ‘crap sandwich’. Oh the possibilities…………….


I can see Cabela’s Fall Catalog with sales on camo diapers and buzzardly accessories like balloon tires  and wilderness kits for electric scooters. Prune flavored energy drinks and pureed food stuffs would fill backpacks and camp kitchens. ‘Tanka Bar’ could come out with a delicious buffalo paste treat for the dentally challenged. Possibly toss a few GPS or locator beacons into the mix, just in case one of us old coots forget what we were doing and simply wander off, looking for a place to pee, read the latest issue of Prevention or try to figure out exactly what side ‘AARP’ is on anyway. Ah yes, nothing like spending time in the great out doors. I can almost smell the pine and the cedars as they enjoin the brisk morning air as it intermingles with the sent of fresh coffee brewing,…..and ole Uncle Floyd taking his morning constitutional while arguing with a diaper stealing chipmunk.


The ‘Captain’ might come out with prune flavored spiced rum when it’s obvious there are more of us old geezers then young poop butt sidewalk commandos. Nightclubs will be ‘Rascal Friendly’ and along with a row of motorcycles, a row of mobility scooters will be parked. Tow truck companies should develop a new type of lift when old geezers get buster cruising their scooters, wasted on Gerital shooters. And hopefully in the midst of this senior citizen revival someone will come up with a cure for buzzard skin, gray frizzy hair and bald heads. If we all lived naked there would be no need for diapers, but a pair of rubber boots or moccasins would be in order.


I always drooled profusely, flung feces at passing motorists and embraced dementia so this is not an issue in my case, thank goodness. But coping with buzzard skin has become an ongoing challenge, for vanities sake at the very least. Lifting weights does not seem to cure buzzard skin and running a zillion miles a day only causes turbulence and dust on the mountain trails I traverse. If two buzzard skins pass one another on a trail bystanders can be injured as the buzzards try to avoid slapping each other with their ‘wings of lard’. Bicycles are a particular hazard on mountain trails since buzzard skin has been known to get caught up in the spokes, I hate it when that happens. On the bright side, bears hear you coming way before you get there, “Smokey, Party of three…”, bon appetite.


Ointments, salves, creams, lotions, elixirs and bath salts of every kind did nothing. A dunking in crap smelling volcanic water by some priest dressed in Beavis & Butthead boxers reciting Pee Wee Herman’s, “Mecca Lecca High, Mecca Hiney Ho”, didn’t cure buzzard skin one bit either. To top it all off, out of nowhere hair began to grow on top of my nose and don’t get me started on my new unibrow or the hair that decided to grow in my ears, nose and back. Not just peach fuzz hair but gargantuan monster hair that is all thick, twisted, flat and umm,…..platinum blond. Hell with old age, I’m turning into a frigging Werewolf, or should I say Yeti since the hair is sort of snow colored.


Getting old sucks but there is a cool secret I’ll share. When you see an old timer cruising around, in some cases on a vintage Harley, 9 times out of 10 they are listening to Redbone, The Doors, or Bobby Darin in a cleverly disguised iPod called ‘the brain’. I doubt he or she will pay any attention to you while they are tripping on music and memories, especially if they are reminiscing ‘The Jimmy Hendrix Experience’ in L.A. at the Forum way back in the last century, by cracky. We made it this far so whats the rush? We’ll get back to you after the song is done or our memories disappear, which ever comes first.


When our old and blurry eyes gaze into yours we are not jealous of your youth or anything like that, we are only wondering; ‘if anyone is home’. In fact us old buzzards wonder if anyone is home societally speaking for it would appear the new stewards of this planet suffer acute fecal brain syndrome. In a darkly humorous sense I see a grand comedy from my vantage point, a comedy of errors intentional or not that will haunt humanity until nature sets things straight and the elders of my tribe know its coming. In fact old buzzards from all cultures know this era is doomed to failure because of the callousness, ineptitude and greed that earmarks this time we live. If you don’t see what is going on in society you have buzzard skin for eye lids but the joke is on you because us old buzzards will soon be out of here.


Whether we survive to see the conclusion of this dynamic change or not is of no real importance to us but the seeds we planted are. Sadly many of the young don’t listen to ‘sage wisdom’ from lessons learned in human history and are doomed to repeat therm. One day the knowledge of the past will be lost forever when the witnesses from the last generation are finally gone, buzzard skin and all. Only those who heeded the warnings of their elders and adhered to their traditions will survive the future, lock, stock and tomahawk.


And yes, they will eventually have buzzard skin…


Your Devil’s Advocate



© 2013, Buffalohair Productions. All rights reserved.

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Posted by Ann on September 30, 2013 at 7:29 pm
Filed under Buffalohair Stories and News, Buffalohair Universe, Buffalohair-Jage Press, Elderly, Entertainment, Hello World, Human Behavior, Native American, satire, Survival, The Future, The Now, The Past, Wisdom, Writing  |  Tags:

Hello World! It’s Spirit In The Wind Once Again. / 2012 [Notice this in side pages, as it is all of the Posts List :) ]

Osiyo! Ulihelisdi!
(Hello! Welcome!)

Yah-tah-hey, Yah sho (welcome)

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Treasure Map Stories by Buffalohair Part 11

Blog Entry

Treasure Map Stories by Buffalohair Part 11

Apr 5, ’09 2:41 PM
by Ann for everyone
After Lunch let’s go hunt treasure.

Start of Treasure Hunt,[img][/img]

Posted: Sun Apr 05, 2009 1:07 pm Post subject:

With tears in his eyes and his hand covering his mouth Sal turned around to see what the commotion was about. He noticed two long haired obviously Native American men standing at the entrance of the cantina. Then he heard Mona yell;“Well I’ll be go to hell, it’s Greneudo Productions! What are you subversives doing out of custody? I though the fed’s locked you boys up and threw away the key”

Still smiling Antonia retorted;

“Yeah, when they discovered we liked the free food and no rent they threw us out. Miguel found a love interest and almost stayed”

At that moment Miguel punched Antonio in the side and vehemently said;

“No way, that was your romance Antonio. I saw how you was blowing kisses to that trustee. Gawd, you was the one singing for them”

For a moment they both stared at each other in silence then the duo broke out in hysterical laughter then Antonio continued with their story.

“I think we blew the cops minds since they tried to intimidate us by tossing us in the holding cell with all those killers and street people. Holay, they were more real then the people on the outside. That really freaked out the guards when they found us making prayers for the prisoners in the cell. It was cool since all the inmates thanked us for offering our prayers to them.

LOL, Even the jailhouse snitch thanked us for the prayer”

Mona walked up to Antonia and Miguel and gave them each a hug and a kiss. It was obvious the pair were her very close friends as well as popular in this group of people. The crowd resumed in the festivities as Mona and her friends caught up on old gossip.

“So really, what finally happened to you guys after the bust?” said Mona.

Miguel spoke;

“They dropped the charges after the ACLU stepped in with a copy of the Constitution in their hands. We had a right to assembly and we did have a permit. But I think it was the army of news reporters that really cinched it for us or Antonio would be carving hearts out of soap right now”

Then Antonio whispered to Mona;

“Who is that guy covering his mouth and staring at you? He does not look to happy”

Immediately Mona motioned for Sal to come and join the group then she said;

“Antonio, Miguel I’d like you to meet my friend Fran, I mean Sal. Sal, I’d like you to meet my brothers Antonio and Miguel, they are totally insane”

Sal walked up to them and said;

“They can’t be any more insane than you Mona. Hi I’m Sal, it’s nice to meet the both of you”

“Are you guys heading up to El Rito for the gathering this week?” Antonio queried.

With an astonished look on her face Mona said;

“El Rito? We just blew into town today after fighting a snow storm. This is the first time I’ve been in Trinidad. I’m still amazed I ran into you guys”

“Mona, you and Sal are invited to our gathering at El Rito this weekend. You have to come, it’s been a long time and I think you’d really like it there.

Miguel, I think we just found our fry-bread queen. Mona can make fry-bread to die for eh.

Oh, by the way, you’ve just been drafted so you have to come now” quipped Antonio.

Curiously Sal asked;

“I’m a bit confused, what is El Rito, a bar or something?”

In a more serious tone Antonio explained;

“Oh no, El Rito is not a bar. Fact is it’s far from that my friend. El Rito is the home of my ancestors. It’s the place my people settled after the riots in the Pueblos in Taos New Mexico back in the 1800’s. It’s a very sacred place for us”

Miguel asked;

“Mona, what brings you to this neck of the woods? This is a long way from Oklahoma for you isn’t it?”

“We are looking for a place called Cibola and its up in the mountains somewhere around here. Check this map out”

Antonio grabbed the map and studied it intently. He showed it to Miguel then said;

“Look right here Miguel, it shows El Rito. Wow, this is wild, where did you find this eh?”

Somewhat embarrassed she said;

“Oh it’s a long story but here we are and maybe you can help us find this place since you live here”

“Well if I knew where Cibola was I would not be driving my rez truck. You’re looking for the Seven Cities of Gold. But first things first, where are you guys staying?” Antonio said.

Sal chimed in;

“We just got here and this is our first stop. Where is a good motel for us to stay at?”

With a look of surprise Antonio said;

“You guys are with us now so you don’t have to worry about any motel. We are headed to Indian Betty and Phil’s house then we will head to the casa”

Mona’s eyes got big as she responded to Antonio’s answer;

“Indian Betty and Phil Talking Bear, you mean they live here too? Gawd, I have not seen them in ages. This is unbelievable”

“Mona, you need to get out more. They lived here forever and there are other people you know who live up the river you might want to see as well. They will be at El Rito.

You guys follow us to Betty and Phil’s. What are you driving?” said Antonio.

With pride Sal said;

“That’s my Harley outside”

Almost on queue Antonio and Miguel started laughing and Antonio said;

“We were wondering who was crazy enough to ride a motorcycle in a spring snow storm. And to think you thought Mona was crazy”

After a short drive across the Victorian town they all arrived at Phil’s shop. Mavericks rig was parked outside along with the normal assortment of vehicles.

Betty and Rivkah along with the other guests in the house heard the noise of the vehicles as they approached. Phil and Maverick came out of the shop when they heard the commotion as well.

Antonio and Miguel lead the procession as everyone came together. Wiping her hands on her apron Betty walked up to Antonio and Miguel and gave them a warm hug. Then Betty spotted Mona and said;

“Oh my goodness, look Phil its Mona. Get over here girl, I want to take a look at you”

Phil was elated to see Mona and he came to Betty’s side and joined in a family hug. Mona was moved fore she had tears flowing from her eyes as she came to Betty. It was a very warm and loving reunion for the three of them.

Then Maverick stepped out of the Shadows looking directly at Mona. Then Mona saw Maverick and returned the stare. There was no words for a moment that seemed to last a lifetime. Then in unison Mona and Maverick said each others names;



Everyone including the dogs fell silent as Mona and Maverick gazed at each other. Rivkah and Sal felt very awkward and the silence was deafening.

Catching the moment Betty rallied everyone except Mona and Maverick into the house for coffee and small talk. It was obvious Mona and Maverick knew each other. It was also obvious they were both surprised to see each other.

Once in the house Betty recruited Rivkah to help her make coffee and break out some cake. As Rivkah was getting the coffee cups from the cabinet she quietly asked who Mona was.

In a very hushed tone Betty said;

“Mona is the sister of Maverick’s wife”
Creativity is the byproduct of a fertile mind

Buffalohair Treasure Map Stories Part 10 / 2008

Blog Entry

Buffalohair Treasure Map Stories Part 10

Nov 24, ’08 10:13 AM
by Ann for everyone
PostPosted: Mon Nov 24, 2008 1:26 am    Post subject:
Like a deer caught in the headlights Sal was speechless as the elders began to chuckle. An old man with barely one tooth looked at Sal and said;

“John Wayne’s real name was Marion Morrison and he was a big man like you. Only thing different is you’re a motorcycle man.”

Still speechless Sal turned and looked at Mona hoping she would enter into the conversation. Biting her tongue she grabbed Sal’s arm and sat him down next to the group. Then the old man continued;

“I used to ride one of them motor bikes when I was in the Army. I was in the 3rd Armored Division in Normandy. I got shot off it twice by them Nazi’s, hombre let me show you my scar”

Then the old man began to pull up his shirt when his wife stepped it;

“Lencho por favor no mientras comemos!”

Almost immediately the old man began to tuck his shirt back into his pants and said in a sheepish voice;

“Si Angelica”

Sal turned to Mona and asked what the old couple said. She whispered;

“She does not want him to undress while we are eating”

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh”, he replied.

Sal made some small talk to try and ease what he thought was tension between the old couple.

“Lencho was that a WLA 45 Harley Davidson by chance?”

Returning the sparkle to his eyes, with a sense of pride the old man eagerly responded;

“I rode an INDIAN the first time I was hit. The second time I rode a Harley but when I was hit that time I was behind enemy lines”

Then the old man paused and turned to his wife. He grabber her hand to comfort her since she was beginning to well up with tears. Then the old man continued;

“I got pretty messed up when them Krauts hit my bike the last time. I woke up a few days later in a farm house. My arm and leg was messed up. Sure glad them resistance guys found me first”

Holding back the tears the old woman spoke out;

“I’ll never forget when the soldiers came to the house. My heart still hurts when I think about the day they said you was missing in action you old prune. I died that day and my life felt so empty. All I could think of was you lying in some ditch…………”

Struggling to hold back the tears she continued;

“…….so far from home”

The table fell quiet as she silently wept. Sal reached for his bandana and offered it to the old woman. The old man was comforting the love of his life as she spoke about the months she lived knowing he was dead. The scene was quite moving in contrast to the festive occasion at the bar and grill.

Feeling moved by this turn of events, Sal turned and glanced at Mona. She was covering her mouth and streams of tears flowed down her cheeks. She was futilely trying to hide her emotions. Then in an effort to change the mood of the conversation Sal chirped;

“Umm, I smell chilly. Is it any good?”

The old man, taking the hint said;

“Chilly is real good, its’ Hatch Chilly from New Mexico. They say it’s the best in the world. Get a bowl before it’s all gone”

Snapping out of her sorrow Angelica chimed in;

“I made the fry bread and the sopapilla’s so you better hurry. They don’t last long around here”

Regaining her composure Mona stood up and made a motion for Sal to accompany her to the table full of food. As they walked to the bountiful display she leaned over to him still choking back tears and emotion then whispered to him;

“That’s so beautiful; they’re still in love after all these years”

In a clumsy move to add levity to their conversation Sal made an attempt at humor;

“Hey, this is the first time I saw you cry when you was awake”

Stopping in their tracks, Mona glared at Sal then punched him in the side then retorted;

“Let me get the bowl for her Francis”

Upon their return to the table everyone was laughing and having fun telling jokes. Sal sat down at the table and was making preparations to eat. The old woman queried;

“Did you find the chilly OK?”

“Mona got it for me. There was such a variety” said Sal.

Angie queried again;

“Mona did you see the Habaneros?”

With a devilish smile she said calmly;


The two women and the old man smiled at one another as they watched intently as Sal began to eat.

“Ay Caramba!” yelled Sal as he frantically gulped down a soda.

His mouth was in flames as the habanero chilly did its deed on his unsuspecting pallet.

Calmly Mona looked over to the woman and said;

“Yes, I found the habaneros”

With his mouth afire he looked desperately at Mona as if to ask why.

With a smile and in a soft monotone voice she said to Sal;

“Gosh Francis, this is the first time I saw you cry while you’re awake too”

Just then, the door to the establishment flew open and two long haired Native men walked into the bar. The crowd stopped and the room fell silent as one man said;

“Ola people where’s the free chow?”

Then the whole bar went wild with salutations;

“Antonio! Miguel!

People came to the men and began shaking their hand. The bartender ran around the counter to give Antonio a lip lock. Then she asked;

“The usual boys?”

They nodded their heads in unison

She reached into the cooler and pulled out two giant cans of tea and slid them down the bar.

Antonio stopped in his tracks and bumped Miguel to get his attention then said in a loud and clear voice;

“Is that Mona, the AIM ax murderer?”
Creativity is the byproduct of a fertile mind

Posted: Mon Nov 24, 2008 6:12 am    Post subject:
As Rivkah sat in her car waiting she could hear a distant rumble. It was getting louder and louder. Then the noise stopped so she continued to sip her coffee and nosh on her treat. Then as she sat passing the time she heard a loud horn. The sound was so loud and abrupt she literally leaped out of her skin spilling her coffee. Then she looked in her rear view mirror and saw nothing but a gigantic bumper and part of a massive grill.

Frightened by what she thought was a moving truck she frantically tried to start her car. She began to fumble with the keys and cursing in Hebrew nervously.

“Oy Vey, I’m going to be crushed like the glass at Morey’s wedding”

The car would not start but she still was struggling with the key when she heard a tap on the glass. She looked out the window and saw this tall hulk of a man dressed in western attire, clean neat and had nicely trimmed hair mustache and mutton chops. The man was smiling as she rolled down the window and he said in a calm voice;

“Are you Rivkah? I’m Maverick and this car is a smoke bomb. When you passed me all I saw was smoke. Looks like rings to me”

Still a bit confused she asked;

“What, what are you talking about?”

Maverick explained;

“The engine, it may be smoking because your piston rings are shot or it could be the valves. Pop the hood and let me take a look-see”

She opened the hood and Maverick stuck his head into the engine compartment. He was there for a few minutes when Rivkah got out of the car and joined him in the front. He looked at her shaking his head. She asked;

“What’s wrong?”

He began to explain what the problem was when another truck pulled up along side his rig. It was an ugly yellow Cab Over truck with duct tape on one of the fenders. Rivkah and Maverick just looked at the truck as the driver jumped out of the cab. He was a portly man wearing shorts and his shirt was stained with food. He was unkept and had a foul smell about him. With a sinister look in his eyes he said;

“So this is the gal who joined out parade eh. Boy you’re a cute little thing. Looks like you scored Maverick but do I get a finders fee? How about a little kiss for ole Stacy…”

At that moment Maverick stepped out from in front of the car and in-between Rivkah and the vulgar driver. As Maverick got closer it was obvious Maverick was taller and more than this rude driver wanted to cope with. Maverick put his arm on the guys shoulder and politely asked him to walk around the trailer so they could “talk”. The two of them disappeared behind the trailer. In a minute or two both came out from behind the trailer. The portly driver had a different expression on his face as he approached Rivkah and said in an intimidated voice;

“Miss, I would like to apologize for the statement I made earlier. I was out of line and I’m sorry”

Still not sure what to make of all this Rivkah accepted his apology. Then the driver looked towards Maverick and said;

“Are we square Mav?”

With a quiet nod of his head Maverick acknowledged the groveling remorseful drivers query. In an instant he was back into his truck and in a few minutes he was clean out of sight. Turning towards Rivkah Maverick continued his conversation;

“I think you blew a head gasket since you have oil in your water and the side of the motor is covered in oil. I checked the fluid levels and found that you don’t have any oil left in the motor. Did the engine make any weird sound?”

“Yes it did as a matter of fact. When I pulled into the truck stop the motor was making a loud hammering sound. Why, is that bad?” she said.

Maverick sighed;

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news but I think your motor is toast. You’re lucky you made it over the hill”

Resigned to the fact her car was dead in the water she pondered her fate;

“Oh my, I was not ready for this. I’ve traveled so far and now I don’t think I will make it to Littleton. This has been such a bad trip, I should have stayed home”

Maverick offered a suggestion;

“There is a garage on the other side of town that is very reasonable. They do emergency road work on Big Trucks and they don’t charge an arm and a leg. If you like I can give them a buzz”

At a loss for any direction of her own she replied;

“I don’t know anyone here, and I am 200 miles from where I need to be. Umm, OK give your friend a call, if you don’t mind”

Then Rivkah began to cry.

“Oh geeze, it’s not that bad. Surely your people will understand if you are broke down. I’ll tell you what, let me give Phil a call and see if he can get you in early and check out your car”

Calming down she agreed then he made the call. After a few minutes of chatting he turned his attention to Rivkah who was lost in thought. With a hint of satisfaction he told the stranded motorist;

“I got some good news and some bad news. I’ll start with the good. Phil’s coming down with the tow truck to haul you into the garage, that’s the good news. Umm, the bad news is Phil can’t get to your car till tomorrow at the very earliest”

Unconsciously Maverick looked at his watch catching Rivkah’s eye. Knowing she must be taking up to much of his time she said;

“Well I don’t want to take up anymore of your time. But I want to thank you for helping me. I really appreciate it. I would not have found a good mechanic to fix my car and…….”

She began to whimper as she came to the reality she was stranded with a broke down car. She was starting to feel very alone. Tugging at Mavericks heart strings the seasoned driver pulled out his cell phone and made a call then looked at Rivkah and said;

“Well, I passed on the load in Fort Morgan. I want to make sure you’re OK before I pull out of here”

Just then a tow truck pulled up and a saintly older man with white hair jumped out of the truck.

“Mav, how the hell are you? I haven’t seen you in a coon’s age. How is the ole Pete running you old sun of a gun?”

The man reached for Mavericks hand to shake it. At that moment Maverick grabbed Phil and gave him a big hug and said;

“Hey pop, it’s so good to see you again. It’s been a while eh”

The old man retorted;

“I’ll say, it’s been at least three years I’ll bet. And you’re looking fit as a fiddle, not bad for an ole gear jammer like you. Is this the filly who’s broke down?”

“Yup, sure is Phil, I told her you was the best in the west” Maverick said.

“Well, let’s take the car to the shop and see if we can breathe some life back into her. You going to stick around and visit for a while or are you going to head back out? You really need to take a break if you’ve been doing what I think you’re still doing”

For a moment Maverick’s expression turned to a look of sadness. He paused then replied;

“You know I can’t lie to you Phil. I’ve been hammering it ever since, you know”

The two old buddies hooked the car to the wrecker. Maverick looked to Rivkah and said;

“Well, I’ll follow you to the garage”

With that statement Rivkah and Phil piled into the tow truck and off they went to the garage. Maverick and his shiny Peterbilt were right behind them.

Phil was a kindly man with a very good heart and Rivkah felt very safe. With curiosity she asked him a question;

“What were you guys talking about back there? What was Maverick hammering or whatever?”

The jovial demeanor disappeared from Phil’s face and he began his oratory;

“Maverick is one hell of a guy but he has not gotten over loosing his wife and kids about three years ago”

Knowingly Rivkah responded;

“Oh, I get it. His wife and kids left him since he was always on the road huh. I heard a trucker’s life is hard on relationships. It’s too bad, he seems like a nice guy”

In a fatherly voice Phil continued;

“Well you’re right; a trucker’s life is spent in the cab of their trucks. Many drivers only spend a hand full of days at home a year while spending the rest of their lives driving, delivering and picking up freight. But that’s not what happened to Mav.

You see, about three years ago his wife and kids were on their way to meet him in Grand Island Nebraska. They were going to spend a week with him on the road since they used to travel with him when school was out. While they were on their way to meet him a car driven by a drunk driver plowed into the side of Mav’s wife’s car. The car burst into flames according to witnesses who tried in vane to rescue them but they died in the fire. Some idiot video taped the accident scene. It was bad news since you could hear the kids and Marge, his wife, screaming in the burning wreckage.

Well, Maverick was at the truck stop waiting for his family. While he was at the truck stop he got wind of a fatal accident down the road. He did not think much about it since drivers see many accidents all the time on the big road. So poor ole Mav waited and waited and waited no Marge and the kids. He called his house, nobody home. Then as he was walking out of the café a roll back tow truck drove in. The truck had his family car or the burnt out hunk sitting on the back. On the floor of the wrecker was the burnt remnants of a stuffed teddy bear with his son’s name on the tag.

The tow truck driver had the video and was going to turn it into the state trooper’s office since someone handed it to him at the scene. Somehow Maverick got hold of the video. It was bad enough he found out the hard way his family was killed but the video let him watch his family burn to death. He heard his kids crying for their daddy, their little arms flailing in the molten mass and flames and his wife plead to G*D to let her die. It was to much. I don’t know how anyone could just tape something like that. I got physically sick when I saw the video.

Me and my son drove out to Nebraska to get Mav and his truck. He was in the police station. He was not arrested or anything. He was in protective custody since he was so grief stricken. Suicide watch or something. For a moment there I thought he was never going to pull out of it. He was cat, umm, catt something”

Rivkah added;

“Do you mean catatonic?”

Phil continued;

“Yeah that’s the word catatonic. The poor guy loved his wife and kids very much, they were his world. He used to take November and December’s off so he could be with his family for the holidays. He used to call it “Quality Dad Time”. Summers you’d see the cab of his Peterbilt filled with his family. They traveled everywhere together for 3 ½ months in the summer. I never saw such a close family like his. They would come and visit us, do laundry and stretch their legs, than off they would go.

We brought him home with us and for a while we thought we lost him. It was one of the saddest things I ever witnessed. He looks good now, like he used to before the accident. But he was nothing but skin and bone. If it were not for my grand son who was 5 at the time Maverick would be dead I believe”

Emotionally torn by the sad tale Rivkah asked;

“Why, what did your grand son do?”

Taking a deep breathe Phil told Rivkah;

Maverick was in the basement bedroom. It was the safest place for him we thought since he could not leave the house without us knowing. Well Mav was almost gone; he was dying little by little since he was starving himself to death. There was no way we or the doctors could snap him out of it. And I was not about to let them take him to the loony bin, course it was getting close I have to admit. Well he was always like an uncle to all the kids in our family and he’r become part of the family over the years. His wife and kids were our like our own as well. So we were hit pretty hard too, but not like Maverick.

Then one day my grandson Joshua managed to get downstairs and into Mav’s room. Don’t know how the little poop butt managed to get down there either. But anyway he crawled into Maverick’s bed and said, “Please uncle Maverick, please don’t die, we love you too” or something like that and while we were watching TV Maverick’s emaciated body managed to make it up the stairs. Little Joshua was yelling “Uncle Maverick is back, Uncle Maverick is back”. We ran to the stairwell and sure as shoot’n there was that ole snuff skeeter crawling up the stairs. And there was Joshua helping the ole boy out.

Gawd, this is hard Rivkah. When I looked down at my buddy he looked up to me and said, “I’m really hungry”, it was the first sensable thing he said in months. As it turned out we fattened him up a bit. Then he hit the concrete sea and has been on the road ever since. All he does is drive Rivkah, all he does is drive. He has paychecks he had not cashed in his sleeper. All he does is pay for fuel and tires and a few groceries. I know he is still running from himself but at least he is healthy other than that. If you did not break down when you did, I might not have seen him for another three years. All he does is just moves cows to market”

With tears in her eyes Rivkah was overwhelmed by the story of her rescuer. It struck a core of her being. Then Phil added more bit of information;

“If you ever get a chance to get in the cab of his truck, there is a locket of hair from each of his kids and his wife’s he has on the sun visor. It’s the only possession he cares about. That stupid tape is in the cubby of the sleeper, I know because I’m a nosey old fart and I poked around the truck before he left. Man, that was over three years ago. Oh, and if you look at the back of his sleeper there is a painting of his wife and kids on it with a caption, They are in heaven and in my heart”

As Phil wheeled the tow truck to a halt, Maverick pulled his rig along side the wrecker and tooted his horn. Out of the back of the house next to the shop several women and a flock of kids ran outside. They were excited and were yelling Maverick’s name. It was a reunion of sorts as they surrounded his rig. People were hugging and embracing him as he jumped out of the truck. It even appeared the dogs were excited to see him.

Rivkah watched as this giant of a man grabbed three kids at a time and give them a big hug. Kids were even holding his legs and the hounds wagged their tails like windshield wipers. The elder woman, Phil’s wife, burst into tears and grabbed Maverick like he was her long lost son as she wept in Maverick’s arms.

With tears mixed with a catty smile the elder woman said;

“I ought to hog tie you to the barn you crazy SOB. Where the heck have you been? I know I know”

Maverick and the old woman said in unison;

“All Over!”

Maverick looked at the old woman up and down and said;

“You’re looking younger every day Betty”

She faked a scowl;

“You are such a liar Maverick, some things never change. You are going to stay for dinner, you know that”

“Yes, Yes, Yes, how can I resist your sweet potato pie, besides I can’t walk away from a free meal?”

Betty turned and said to Rivkah;

“And you young lady are staying for dinner as well”

In a semi whisper Betty asked Maverick;

“And who is this beautiful young lady Mav, hmmmmmmm?”

Slightly embarrassed he said;

“Oh ah, it’s nothing like that Betty she is the stranded motorist I brought. Her car took a dump at the truck stop and I referred her to Phil, that’s all.”

Still looking at Rivkah Betty retorted;

“I like her, she has kind eyes. Maybe it’s time for grand ma to play cupid”

Turning beet red Maverick felt like he was standing buck naked at a church social. All of a sudden he wanted to be invisible. Then Betty went on;

“Rivkah sweetie, Maverick is our highway guardian angel and a good catch I might add. He needs a good woman and shut up Phil, I know what you’re about to say”

Phil looked at Maverick then Betty and finally Rivkah then said;

“I’m keeping out of this one”

Totally embarrassed, Maverick was at a loss for words. He turned slowly to see Rivkah’s reaction. Then he noticed Rivkah was smiling and looking directly at him. Still suffering the open fly syndrome, Maverick wished he could find a rock to crawl under. Then the younger woman said;

“She is a looker Mav”

Thinking to himself he mumbled;

“Somebody shoot me”

Betty called everyone into the house and the crowd obeyed the matriarch of the family and started shuffling inside. The smell of home cooking was wafting in the yard. Paralyzed with embarrassment or fear Maverick stood there hoping to find a graceful exit of some kind. But where on Earth could he run to. Then as the last of the family members made their way back into the house Maverick felt someone grab his arm. It was Rivkah as she lovingly put her arm around him and said;

“Hey Big Strapper, lets have some supper”
Creativity is the byproduct of a fertile mind

PostPosted: Sat Dec 13, 2008 8:33 pm    Post subject:
Talk about a hard Act to follow!

Usually when it is an adventure of humor it is pretty easy! Then Carlos/ Buffalohair throws in a tear jerker !!!!!!! Gads! Like they say Bambi: Top “Tear Jerker” Movie of All Time. Well, Carlos is pretty good at it, too!

I will have to get another box of tissues to reread the Rivkah part ……….

Ann LRD reindeer