LFS: The Storyteller

I love this essay - absolutely one of my favorite pieces. I first wrote it in 1992. Every once in awhile I go back and update "the list," most recently this week. ©1995 by LeeZard Most Americans don’t realize it but there’s a lot more to Oklahoma than tornadoes, oil wells, cattle and amber waves of grain. From the eerie white salt flats in the panhandle to its dramatic tall grass prairie, endless wheat fields and rolling green hills, the Sooner State is unique not only for its violent weather and physical qualities but also for its remarkable people. From 1991-1994, I made almost 100 business trips to America’s “Tornado Alley” to help the U.S. Department Of Energy establish a ten year multi-million dollar global warming research program. One of my tasks was to explain the project to people near our central research facility in rural Grant County, Oklahoma, just south of the Kansas State line. Sitting in cafes, general stores and ranch houses of many new found friends, I lea...

©2008 by LeeZard Have you been to a shopping mall lately? I try to avoid it but sometimes it’s unavoidable. I have to tell you; I am absolutely amazed at what I see. I’m talking about pre-pubescent feminine come-hither. I know I'm starting to sound like a curmudgeon but this rant goes back to when I was parenting my kids as teens. It bothered me then and it bothers me now. There are limits, ya know. Now, I’m no prude - far from it - but I am often appalled by the way these young girls – and I mean YOUNG – are dressing. Barely to their teens, they are in tight, belly exposing tank tops. They squeeze into micro-mini skirts or very tight low-riding jeans – riding so low that their thong underwear is exposed when they lean forward to take a bite out of their Big Mac Happy Meals. I have sweatbands that cover more than those thongs do. Then there are all those thumbtacks in their noses, their ears and their bellybuttons. We are talking about our very young daughters dressing li...

©2007 by LeeZard Barack Obama’s presidential campaign scares me but, not for the reasons you might think. In fact, I’ll probably vote for him in Washington State’s caucuses next month. No, what scares me is this awful feeling of Déjà Vu all over again. I’m sure others have thought about it but don’t want to say it for fear that, if they say it, it will happen. But, it has to be said and, we have to look within ourselves to prevent it from happening. “What the hell are you rambling about, Leezard,” you must be asking. So, here it is. Barack Obama is one of those rare people who come along maybe once every generation. He is beyond charismatic. He is inspirational. His speeches are brilliant. Did you hear his victory speech in Iowa? The pundits on CNN immediately labeled it "one of the most important political speeches of the year." He stands to become our nation’s first African American president and, what scares me is that Barack Obama is just the kind of person some whacko wi...

I wanted to write something positive and hopeful and, yet, I kept coming back to our perilous world. Still, I was determined to express hope for the future. Usually, I start out with a phrase in my head and the rest seems to flow quite easily. For some reason, I struggled with this one. In fact, it took several weeks to complete. Today, sadly, it is fantasy, but, I like it; I like its message. I’m walking  on a mountain trail, through valleys thick with maple and oak. The warm sun shares bright blue sky with white cotton pillow clouds. My heart is free, My head is clear, My life is filled with joy.  From oceans blue and mountains green, There is peace upon the land, for every boy & girl, every mom & dad all around the world. Their lives are free, Their futures clear.Their days are filled with joy. It’s just a dream, I know that’s true, But I was born to dream. I dream of hope and pray for peace. No babies born to die of hunger. This dream is free, the vision c...

I wrote this rant several years ago, when the kids were still living at home. I think it still holds true today. What do you think? ©2007 By LeeZard Okay, I know I am about to come off as a grumpy old man but, here we go. I was driving in the car with Number One Son and shaking my head at what was on the radio. “I just don’t get your music,” I said. “It all sounds the same to me and the lyrics don’t make any sense.” Omigod; I’ve become my father! Believe me; I’ve tried to understand it. I like a lot of new music and I try to stay current. I have an iPod and at least a third of my songs are post-2000. I just don’t get Rap and Hip Hop. Sometimes it downright offends me -- and I am not easily offended. With a few exceptions, most of today’s Rap songs cover the same material. They have the same beat and the lyrics – if you can call them that – talk of mutha bleepin’ this or that, my “ho” left me 'cause I hit her, gangstas, I got my piece and I’m gonna kill someone or let’s go somewher...

©2007 By LeeZard Who coined the term “the Golden Years” to describe old age? I’m betting it wasn’t an older person. In fact, as we Baby Boomers enter our so-called “golden years,” I don’t even know what today’s politically correct term is. While I don’t yet dwell (too much) on my mortality, I am more aware of it than I was even five or ten years ago and, I am dealing with many other changes. I was sitting with some folks last week and an extremely wise woman in the group opined, “You know, people don’t really write about what it’s like – what it really feels like – to get old.” So I’m writing. Granted, my experience is limited but it is mounting quickly; I’m 60 years old, which I’m told is “the new 40.” What I can tell you is that it’s not all fun and games – certainly not “golden.” Don't get me wrong, I’m not complaining. I have a good life. But, let’s face it, the aging process forces us to make changes in what we do, how we live, how we get from here to there. In other cases, w...

This is perhaps the most personal poem I've ever written. Joseph Maler - my Mom's Dad - was one of the few positive influences in my early years. He was certainly the first to make me feel like I had value and something to offer this crazy world. He also set me on my professional path - genetically. Joe had one job throughout his life. He was the "Western Union Man." Yup, Joe worked for the telegraph company. He was a "Wire Chief." Before TV took over our lives, Joe ran the crews who would sit on the roof of Yankee Stadium and telegraph World Series' scores around the world. Joe never talked about his job; I only learned of it by asking questions of other family members. I am convinced, however, that my innate understanding of how the media - especially electronic and new media - work for end-users was passed from Joe to me without a word ever spoken. ©2007 by LeeZard This typewriter is a lot older than it looks. It belonged to Joe, and he’...