I grew up in western Kentucky where you find mostly Cincinnati Reds or St. Louis Cardinal baseball fans.  For me – those teams were never an option.  My dad lived for a time in his life in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania and was an avid Pirates and Steelers fan.  I grew up watching him get excited following Pirates like (the great) Roberto Clemente and slugger Willie Stargell.  I was twelve years old when the Pirates won the World Series in 1971 with Stargell and Clemente leading the way and watched my dad (literally) jump up and down in our TV room and shout and cry as the Pirates celebrated.  I was so taken by his enthusiasm for them that my loyalty to the Bucs was forever established and have followed the up and down (mostly down) baseball fortunes of the Pirates ever since.

In 1972 my dad and I traveled to Cincinnati to see the Pirates and Reds play and he took me down to the Pirate dugout to try and get some autographs.  I don’t remember what Pirate did this – but one of the players took my pen and scorecard into the dugout and had many of the Pirates sign it for me.  Those autographs included: Bill Mazeroski, Dock Ellis, Manny Sanguillen, Richie Hebner, Bob Robertson, Al Oliver, Danny Murtaugh (manager) Willie Stargell and (the most prized of all) Roberto Clemente (who would die just three months later in a plane crash).  In one of the most painful turn of events in my life – I, unfortunately, lost that scorecard and those prized autographs.  But I never lost my love for the Pirates.

That McFarland Pirate tradition has now been passed on to my son, Justin.  I am almost sorry to have saddled him with following the Pirates since they have been the most hapless professional sports franchise in history (twenty consecutive losing seasons).  In that twenty year period – I watched the Pirates play a few times in either St. Louis or Cincinnati.  They never won.  Once during a game in Cincinnati I witnessed a Pirate base runner pass another Pirate base runner while trying to get to third base.  It has been an embarrassing ride.

After my dad passed away in 1988 the Pirates enjoyed some outstanding seasons with great teams and players.  He would have loved watching Barry Bonds (pre-steroid days), Jay Bell, Andy Van Slyke and the other Pirates but like me would have certainly cried real tears watching former Pirate Sid Bream slide into home plate and knock the Pirates out of the playoffs on October 15, 1992 in Atlanta.  That date lives in infamy for Pirate fans as it marked the beginning of the long slide into futility.  There was even talk during that time of the Pirates folding as the fans refused to support a team digging holes in the cellar.

But then something strange and wonderful happened to me as a Pirate fan.  I found myself becoming a bigger fan the more they lost and the more people laughed at me for my loyalty.  It became for me a badge of honor to stick with them and the glory days of Stargell and Clemente became even more glorious and it all – somehow – kept me connected to the memory of my father.  He would have been proud that I never jumped ship – I will forever be my dad’s son and a Pirate fan. Most of the teams I cheer for in other sports have a long history of winning and I have been able to cheer on victory after victory.  But not the Pirates.

Up until a few years ago – I had never been to Pittsburgh to see the Pirates play.  One day my son and I loaded up our tent and camped out along a journey that took us to Canton, Ohio to see the NFL Hall of Fame and then on to Pittsburgh to see the Pirates at PNC Park.  Walking around the stadium before the game I could not shake the smile on my face as we crossed the “Roberto Clemente Bridge” and I am not ashamed to say I cried standing for pictures next to Clemente and Stargell’s statues outside the stadium.  A few years later Justin and I returned to Pittsburgh and journeyed to the University of Pittsburgh campus where the old Pirate stadium, Forbes Field, once stood.  A portion of the outfield wall still stands and it was there that Bill Mazoroski’s famous home run in game seven of the 1960 World Series defeated Mickey Mantle’s New York Yankees.  I think I cried there too. When it comes to the Pirates – I tend to cry a lot.  I failed to mention that in those two trips we watched the Pirates play three games and they lost all three.

Now it all brings us to 2013.  The Pittsburgh Pirates are on the verge of ending (finally) that embarrassing losing streak.  Over the next two months Justin and I will be watching every development as they try to end the season with more wins than losses.  They came close last year only to fall apart after the All-Star break and I am sure most Pirate fans are holding their breath in hopes that does not happen again.  Trust me when I say I could not care less if they make the play-offs.  The magic number is eighty-two wins and as of today (7/20/13) they need twenty-six more to reach that number.  Just twenty-six – that is not too much to ask, is it?

As Lisa and I continue our time here in Kingman, Arizona – I manage to follow the Bucs through the internet and may convince her to go to San Diego (four hours from here) to see the Pirates play the Padres there in August.  It just so happens the game will be during her seven days off and I’ve heard San Diego is lovely this time of year.

Justin called me earlier this morning saying he was on his way to Cincinnati to see the Pirates play the Reds.  Here is hoping after today the magic number is twenty-five.

Lets Go Bucs!

Steve

When all is said and done – it really is the people you meet.  Lisa and I have come to that conclusion as we reflect on this vagabond life we have taken on as we travel the country with Lisa’s job as a traveling ultra-sound technician.  Gettysburg, Pennsylvania and its surrounding area was historic with profound meaning as a place in history.  But we remember most Megan and Scott, Karen and her family, John (who I met while shooting basketball in his neighborhood) and Don Knox – whose son is an animator for Disney.  And in Loma Linda, California we remember mostly Amy and Mark and Marcello and Martha.

And now it is time to introduce you to some of the people we have gotten to know here in Kingman, Arizona.  So without further ado:

Meet Paul Daniel.  Paul is the pastor of First Southern Baptist Church of Kingman.  We have actually not met him personally – only have heard him preach twice – but we love his family and his style of preaching.  Our first Sunday visiting the church – we learned that he was recovering from a heart attack but was expected back to the pulpit the following Sunday.  As we were about to leave that morning, a lovely young lady approached us and introduce herself as the pastor’s daughter.  She was so welcoming to us that Lisa and I decided to return the following week.  Her father, Paul, preached the next two weeks and we fell in love with his relaxed demeanor and casual style.  Where so many preachers seem to be loaded up with “Red Bull” and blow and go with such gusto it seems they hardly take a breath – Paul’s “aw shucks” kind of style has been a welcomed respite from the ‘fire hydrant force preaching style’ of the day.  At one point during the service he invited people to come forward and kneel at the altar while he led in prayer and he did so with such ease I was not surprised to see half the church go forward.  Just no big deal.  I also noticed there was no offering taken up and no invitation in the end.  Lisa and I loved that.  When he finished preaching he had a prayer and said, “You’re free to leave. Have a great day!”  I did notice that they managed to reach their weekly budget as printed in their order of service – so I suppose not “taking up” an offering did not matter much.  People gave by placing their offering in a box as they left without being told how or shown the plate.  I hope my telling this does not create problems for them in the Southern Baptist Convention.  Not having an invitation or designated offering time during the service may be more dangerous to some than denouncing the trinity or the virgin birth.  But – way to go First Southern of Kingman!

Meet JC and Carol.  When you live in an RV park – you see people come and go on a daily basis.  Since we are in a popular vacation area (Las Vegas, Hoover Dam and the Grand Canyon all within two hours or less) we notice a lot of people come and go.  But we have met some of the long-term campers including JC and Carol.  Although they live in Las Vegas, they travel to higher elevation spots during the hot summer to avoid the furnace like temperatures of Vegas and other lower elevation cities.  Of course the first week we arrived in Kingman they had record high temperatures here not seen before in a hundred years.  But since that first week the temperatures have normalized and average 98 – 100 degrees.  JC, we learned, is a retired craps dealer and an interesting fellow.  I asked him how to win at craps and his reply is one I will never forget.  “Don’t play!”  Carol is a retired nurse who also traveled some with her job and is now recovering from cancer.  Very boisterous and fun, she is the one who pulls people together to go out to eat or get together at the pool.

Tom and Diane.  Another long-term camping couple we have met is Tom and Diane from Redding, California.  Diane’s father lives here in Kingman and is in poor health and so they are here for a few months taking care of him.  This very nice couple have a few dogs that they keep and recently was the cause of a stir with an unfriendly neighbor.  All their dogs are completely harmless – one is toothless, one is too fat to hardly move and the third is a skittish Chihuahua seemingly afraid of his own shadow.  A neighbor complained that their dogs were off their leash and the camp manager threatened to have them evicted.  In years to come it will be known as the great “Kingman KOA Dog Controversy of 2013”.  I learned of the problem and that they may be asked to leave one day while talking to them at the pool and the next day they were gone.  I was so depressed that they had been asked to leave – I told Lisa it made me not want to stay here any longer.  The next day, while driving through the RV park – I noticed that had, in fact, only relocated to a different RV spot – away from their tattle-tale neighbor.  Whew!  I was so glad to see them later I nearly hugged their necks.  So Peyton Place is back to normal and all is right with world.

Gary.  Lisa was told that one of her co-workers would be hard to get along with and she may not like working with him.  What the hospital did not know is that Lisa is a southern girl who could find good in Stalin.  She and Gary have actually hit if off very well and she may be the only traveler here (and they have had many) that has been able to appreciate Gary’s dry sense of humor and skill as an echo-tech.  Whenever I hear that Lisa may not get along with someone – I just have to laugh.  When that day comes, I believe, Armageddon may be around the corner.

Hope you like our new friends – we think they would like you.

See ya!

Steve and Lisa

It is hard to believe that Lisa and I are already nearing our first month here in Arizona.  My how time flies when its 100 plus degrees every day.  To be honest – we are adjusting to the climate and are getting more and more comfortable living here in the Mohave Desert (actually are living in “Mohave County”).  The people here are really no different from anywhere else.  They complain about the weather and politics – go to church and don’t go to church – exercise and don’t exercise.  People here do seem to think Lisa and I talk different.  But (like in Pennsylvania) we think they do.

We have been attending the 1st Southern Baptist Church of Kingman.  I’m not sure why it isn’t just called the “1st and Last Southern Baptist Church of Kingman” since it is really both – but that may be a little wordy.  The church is small – probably 150 people in attendance for two services on Sunday.  This past Sunday we joined them in a patriotic celebration and even waved little American flags during a medley singing of all the military branch theme songs.  It is good to know there are still people who love America and love God – even out here in the Mohave Desert.

Kingman has a downtown area that is promoted as being part of the original Route 66 highway.  Like downtowns all across the country – it is full of empty buildings, a couple of mom and pop restaurants and few antique/junk stores.  Lisa and I ate at “Redneck Bar B-Q” yesterday and were interested in seeing they referred to their food as being like Memphis Bar B-Q.  No one we spoke to had heard of Owensboro – so we didn’t try to convince them we were from the Bar B-Q capital of the world.

Life in an RV park has its ups and downs.  People generally are very friendly and we have made some friends that we go eat with occasionally.  Others seem a little territorial and petty with regard to their RV space – so we avoid those blessings.  Some come here to Kingman every summer to avoid the higher temperatures of the lower elevation cities such as Las Vegas, Lake Havasu and Needles (California).  Some of those places can average 120 – 130 degrees in the summer.  Lisa and I traveled 40 miles south to Lake Havasu City this past Monday and the temperature there was 115.  Lake Havasu City features the London Bridge which was purchased at auction by a Lake Havasu business man for 2.5 million dollars and moved piece by piece from England in 1968.  They reconstructed the bridge on Lake Havasu and it is now a popular attraction and a pretty good bar bet.  Lisa and I took some quick pictures of the bridge and then headed back to our air-conditioned truck.  I told her get a good look – because we ain’t never coming back here again.

Wildlife is a little different out here and (thankfully) we have not seen our first rattlesnake or scorpion.  We have spotted some jackrabbits (strange-looking, long -eared rabbits that run like a kangaroo) and many fat, long-tailed lizards that seem as frightened by us as we are of them.  There are some other rodent-like creatures scurrying around that I am trying to identify.  As long as they stay in the field and out of our RV – we will get along fine.  If one ever manages to invade our camper – Lisa will be moved out and checked into the nearest hotel before I will realize she’s gone.  She does not do heat or creepy creatures very well – though she is doing better with the heat.  I have little faith that she will ever adjust to having strange-looking creatures anywhere near her.  I should feel lucky she lets me in the RV.

Have a great day!

Steve and Lisa

A couple of years ago my son, Justin, and I invested in a piece of property with the hope of “flipping” it for a profit.  It took an entire year to complete the project as we ended up taking the interior down to the studs and adding a new kitchen and bathroom.  It ended up being a really nice house that we were proud of but, unfortunately, could never sell outright.  We ended up renting the property and have been doing so for the past year and a half.

I struggled trying to figure out why it never sold.  Everyone loved the property and the neighborhood – but we never received one offer.  All the hard work and the hours and hours spent trying to complete the project seemed all in vain.  Until this past Friday.

Justin and I had talked for a while about him eventually moving into the house.  Eventually, Lisa and I hoped, he would bring a new bride to live there with him.  And so we would mention that scenario on occasions to him but he never really committed to moving or marrying.  Until this past Friday.

Now parents reading this will understand when I say that Lisa and I have been praying for the spouses of both our daughter and son since the day they were born.  We have always wanted them to marry someone that would love them as much as we did and love God and our family as well.  Heather was able to find that match a few years ago.  With Justin – we just had to wait.  Until this past Friday.

In November Justin got serious about possibly asking his girlfriend, Lori Johnson, to marry him when he invested in an engagement ring.  Lisa and I felt that an engagement would happen by Christmas.  Then we thought it may take place soon after we got home from Loma Linda, California.  When that did not happen we began to think it may never happen – until this past Friday.

We had decided that one way or another Justin would move into our remodeled house and so we offered our renters a six month lease with the understanding they would probably have to move out by the end of July.  We were hoping that Justin would ask Lori for her hand in marriage before we left on Lisa’s next work assignment.  But that did not happen as we headed back west to Kingman Arizona.  Before we left Justin decided to go ahead and move into the house but he would not commit to when he would get engaged.  Still waiting and still wondering – Lisa and I left for Arizona more unsure than ever that he would ask Lori to be his wife.  Until this past Friday.

While working on that house I had many people come and say that I was doing way too much.  Some said I should just clean it up and throw some paint on the walls and call it done.  However, I just could not do that.  I wanted it to be a nice home and so we went above and beyond – putting in all new windows, insulating all the walls – even adding an additional bedroom.  But it never sold and I could not figure out why – until this past Friday.

This past Friday our renters finally moved out, Justin invited Lori over to see the house for the first time.  There in that house where we sweat and bled and almost cried over numerous times – he asked her to be his bride.  The date for a wedding has not yet been set – but they will live in our little remodeled house and there they will start their lives together.

I have written before about theologian Eugene Peterson’s idea that life is really a story and that in our lives we often cannot understand why some things happen the way they do.  He described his wife and he reading books together and often she would say, “Why did that happen?” or “What does that mean?”  He reminds her that she needs to let the storyteller tell the story and eventually they would understand.  “We are on page 200 – we may not know until page 326.  Let the storyteller tell the story.”

That is the way I now can look at the story of our remodeled house.  Lisa and I have been stuck on page 200 with a lot of unanswered questions – until this past Friday.  The storyteller just told us the part about how our son would use that house as the setting to propose to his future bride.  The story of their marriage and life together is in just the first chapter – with many pages yet to be turned.  All those prayers – all the waiting – all the worrying was really unnecessary since the part of this story Lisa and I have waited for so long – has finally been told.

Thank God, the great storyteller, for this past Friday.

Congratulations Justin and Lori

Love, Steve and Lisa

Traveling with Lisa’s job this past year has allowed us to experience life in various places – see some amazing things and meet some wonderful people.  But along the way we have grown more appreciative of home.  While in Pennsylvania we found ourselves missing the high school football season and sweet tea.  In Loma Linda California we missed Christmas at home with family, gas under $4 a gallon and the good chance of snow in December.

Now we are experiencing our second week in Kingman Arizona and already know one thing we miss – grass.

I go through a phase every summer when it crosses my mind to lay fake grass turf in  our yard to avoid mowing.  In the spring the grass grows so fast it is hardly necessary to put the mower away before needing to crank it up again.  Grass grows everywhere in Kentucky.  It will find every crack in the sidewalk and has been known to pull down gutters as it roots itself among roofing gravel and rotting leaves.  Caring for a yard in Kentucky calls for an arsenal of tools and talent to keep a lawn looking acceptable.  Not here in Arizona.  All you need is a stiff rake.

Lisa and I are just not use to the rocky, sandy, dusty, dirty appearance of lawns here in the desert.  Where you find grass growing here you will also find a lawn watering system sophisticated enough to care for a major league baseball field.  Now when I see a grassy area – I want to stop the truck and throw myself headlong into it.  Lawn mower salesmen are starving to death out here.

While in Gettysburg last summer – the campground where we stayed required long-term campers (like ourselves) to weed their own campsites.  I had to go purchase a weed eater and (not really knowing what expect) brought it with us out here to Arizona.  I found a little patch of something growing near our camper the other day and am hoping it gets high enough to require a little weed eating – which should help me feel like home. We have found Kingman to have every amenity in terms of restaurants, groceries and entertainment – just no grass.

So next time you have to go out and cut grass – think of us out here in the desert.  And go easy with that “Round-Up” will you?.  Those weeds really are beautiful things.

Happy mowing!

Steve and Lisa

A New Birth of Freedom.

Lincoln Worshipped Here.

Hallowed Ground.

In Loma Linda, California where Lisa and I spent the winter months – I discovered walking to be a tremendous way to stay in shape and save on fuel for our gas guzzling SUV we needed to haul our stuff out west for three months.  At one point I managed to average about eight miles per day – which will never get me ready for a triathlon, I realize, but not bad for a 53 year old with an arthritic knee and really bad feet.

By the time Lisa and I had returned home – my feet were a mess and a doctor informed me following an exam that foot surgery would be necessary soon.  That will have to wait until our return to Kentucky – whenever that will be.  In the meantime – I miss walking but the heat here in Arizona coupled with my foot problems have forced me to find other ways to stay in shape.

There is a really nice pool here at the KOA campground where we live in Kingman and I will use that as much as possible.  However, I have never been a really good swimmer and I don’t believe sinking in a pool is really going to get my heart rate up.  As I was taking Lisa to work one morning – we passed a sign indicating a walking trail and noticed people taking advantage of the cooler morning temperatures heading down the concrete path.  Because of my walking problems I decided to check out bicycles at the local Wal-Mart thinking that may be the best alternative for me as far as exercise.

Years ago (probably twenty) I invested in an expensive mountain bike that I still own.  I never really used it for mountain biking – just rode the Owensboro “Greenbelt” trail or occasionally rode it to work and back.  I got plenty of use out of it over the years – but really paid way too much.  So I was looking for something plain and simple in a bike that would allow me to sit upright and just stroll along on this new found path here in Kingman.  Sitting upright was my priority consideration.  I am done with any bicycle that forces me to lean over until the blood has filled the top of my head and my hands have turned numb and blue from the strain of all my weight.  Also I refuse to turn myself into one of those Lance Armstrong acting, spandex wearing, piston legged club riders that lean across bikes with pencil thin tires worth more than the RV we live in.  I wanted something with wide tires and fenders and one of those spring loaded carriers on the back.  I wanted something with a wide seat and old fashioned coaster brakes.  I wanted a Schwinn “Heavy Duty”.

Upon arriving at Wal-Mart I noticed many bikes that fit that description and settled on a blue Schwinn that would make me look more like Pee Wee Herman than any serious street biker.  This one was perfect – wide, whitewall tires, coaster brake, fenders, and when I rode it for the first time I thought of Ms. Gulch in the Wizard of Oz carrying Toto away from Dorothy.  I could not look more ridiculous – but I love my new bike.

But the amazing thing about this whole experience is that I only spent $88.  I remember when the bikes we rode as kids cost more than that.  How did we manage to keep the prices of bicycles so low?  I mean $88 – really?  This bike is certainly not top of the line and has no hand brakes or gears.  But for that price – I may not bother locking the thing up. Don’t get me wrong – $88 is a lot of money and I am glad I could afford to buy it.  There was a time in my life that would not have been possible – something I am not ashamed to say.  But in an age where we can easily spend $88 at a nice restaurant with our family – I bought a bicycle – and it was a Schwinn.

Now if I can just find some of those tassels.

Cruisin’ On!

Steve and Lisa

It gets hot in Kentucky.  Don’t be fooled by all that nonsense about the cool bluegrass fields where horses run and children play.  Forget Jesse Stuart’s picturesque portrayal of the breezes that flow through the mountain Laurel or the water that cascades down the hills in the east.  Kentucky is hot in the summer – dang hot!  It is a place where you sweat opening the door to pick up the morning paper.  Humid?  How about 90%!  Yes – Kentucky is a hot place in the summer.

But I cannot remember it ever being 111 degrees there.  That is the projected temperature this weekend here in Kingman Arizona.  ONE HUNDRED AND ELEVEN.  Lisa and I are about to experience those temperatures for the first time during this summer stay in western Arizona.  Many have told us about the heat but always use the term – “dry heat”.  Not sure what that means other than it is lower humidity than one may experience in Kentucky or the south.  But come on – 111 degrees?  I think I will cook our eggs on a rock to save on our propane.  Forget the hot water heater – water will be practically boiling in the tanks without any help.

Lisa and I just do not know how we will react to those temperatures.  Furthermore we are not sure how to talk about the heat with the locals.  Do we go up and say something about how hot it is?  That seems stupid to even say.  It is like turning to a Sherpa on the way up Mt. Everest and asking, “Is it cold enough for you?”  I may try that line out with one of the Kingman residents here this weekend – just as an experiment.  “Hey, you with the leathery skin wearing the ‘Arizona State University’ baseball cap!  Is it hot enough for you?”  What will be their response?  “Nope – I don’t take off my jacket until it hits 130.  It got down to 96 yesterday and we turned on the furnace.”

So Lisa and I are about to experience Arizona summer temperatures that everyone warned us about.  If the keys on my laptop have not melted I will do my best to describe 111 degrees to those who, like us, have never experienced those temperatures.  Maybe by doing that people back home in humid Kentucky will find themselves feeling a little cooler after all.

But come to think about it – before this summer is over we may look back and long for those cool days when the temperature was just 111.

Keep Cool!

Steve and Lisa