Get your kids into archery

I had to share this....My good friend "Rat" and I laughed like crazy....I was reminded of my childhood days and some of the dumb things I did...enjoy

Around age 10 my dad got me one of those little badazz long bow beginner kits. Of course, the first month I went around our land sticking arrows in anything that could get stuck by an arrow. Did you know that a 1955 40 horse Farmall tractor will take 6 rounds before it goes down? Tough SOB.

That got boring, so being the 10 yr. old Dukes of Hazard fan that I was, I quickly advanced to taking strips of cut up T-shirt doused in chainsaw gas tied around the end and was sending flaming arrows all over the place. Keep in mind this was 99.999% humidity swampland so there really wasn't any fire danger. Ill put it this way- a set of post hole diggers and a 3ft. hole and you had yourself a well.

One summer afternoon, I was shooting flaming arrows into a large rotten oak stump in our backyard. I looked over under the carport and see a shiny brand new can of starting fluid (ether). The light bulb went off. I grabbed the can and set it on the stump. I thought that it would probably just spray out in a disappointing manner... let's face it to a 10 yr. old mouth-breather like myself ether really doesn't "sound" flammable. So, I went back into the house and got a 1 pound can of dads muzzleloader pyrodex . At this point, I set the can of ether on the stump and opened up the can of black powder. My intentions were to sprinkle a little bit around the ether can but it all sorta dumped out on me. No biggie... 1lb pyrodex and 16oz ether should make a loud pop, kinda like a firecracker you know? You know what? Heck with that. I'm going back in the house for the other can. Yes, I got a second can of pyrodex and dumped it too.

Now we're cookin'. I stepped back about 15ft and lit the 2 stroke arrow. I drew the nock to my cheek and let fly. As I released I heard a swish as the arrow launched from my bow. In a slow motion time frame, I turned to see my
dad getting out of the truck... OH CRAP he just got home from work. So help me God it took 10 minutes for that arrow to go from my bow to the can. My dad was walking towards me in slow motion with a WTH look in his eyes. I turned back towards my target just in time to see the arrow pierce the starting fluid can right at the bottom. Right through the main pile of pyrodex and into the can. Oh Hell! When the shock wave hit it knocked me off my feet. I don't know if it was the actual compression wave that threw me back or just reflex jerk back from 235 decibels of sound. I caught a half a millisecond glimpse of the violence during the initial explosion and I will tell you there was dust, grass, and bugs all hovering 1ft above the ground as far as I could see.

It was like a little low to the ground layer of dust fog full of grasshoppers, spiders, and a crawfish or two. The daylight turned purple. Let me repeat this... THE **** DAYLIGHT TURNED PURPLE. There was a big sweetgum tree out by the gate going into the pasture. Notice I said "was". That mother got up and ran off. So here I am, on the ground blown completely out of my shoes with my thundercats T-shirt shredded, my dad is on the other side of the carport having what I can only assume is a Vietnam flashback ECHO BRAVO CHARLIE YOUR BRINGIN' EM IN TOO CLOSE!! CEASE FIRE DAMIT CEASE FIRE!!!!!

His hat has blown off and is 30 ft. behind him in the driveway. All windows on the north side of the house are blown out and there is a slow rolling mushroom cloud about 2000ft over our backyard. There is a Honda 185s 3 wheeler parked on the other side of the yard and the fenders are drooped down and are now touching the tires. I wish I knew what I said to my dad at this moment. I don't know- I know I said something. I couldn't hear. I couldn't hear inside my own head. I don't think he heard me either... not that it would really matter. I don't remember much from this point on. I said something, felt a sharp pain, and then woke up later. I felt a sharp pain, blacked out, woke later.... repeat this process for an hour or so and you get the idea. I remember at one point my mom had to give me CPR so dad could beat me some more.

Bring him back to life so dad can kill him again. Thanks mom. One thing is for sure... I never had to mow around that stump again. Mom had been ******** about that thing for years and dad never did anything about it. I stepped up to the plate and handled business. Dad sold his muzzleloaders a week or so later. And I still have some sort of bone growth abnormality either from the blast or the beating. Or both.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, get your kids into archery.

Its good discipline and will teach them skills they can use later on in life.

Friend's Funeral

Today I spoke at a friend’s funeral. I had to write down what I planned to say because I knew there would be a possibility of me loosing track of my thoughts, repeating myself or rambling without making sense. I tried writing yesterday but as of last night I had only a couple of scant paragraphs without any satisfactory results. I told our present Potentate last night at the Shrine Club event that I was trying to wrap my head around these words I wanted to say. I had all the elements in my head, but there was no flow and what I did have down was all one note. He told me I should get in a quiet place and I would be able write what I needed. I stayed off the computer last night when we got home from the Shrine Club. Not only did my legs hurt but I was tired. Christy woke me up this morning with a text message telling me it was time to get up. I got up, sat down and wrote what I was going to say.

I am at that age when funerals come a lot more often than before. I do not enjoy funerals and today was hard for me for two reasons. One, Jimmy was a close friend, I know his sons and secondly I was there at the family’s final goodbyes. Freemasonry has a special connection with funerals. One of my first Masonic experiences, even when I was just an Entered Apprentice was a funeral. Masonic funerals are one of the rare public Masonic events that give people just a hint to the world of modern Freemasonry. I have been to more funerals of brother masons than any other. Most of the people I am close to have a Masonic connection somehow.

Jimmy was one of the people I connected with through Masonry. Jimmy was self taught in a lot of his knowledge. He researched various historical areas. Jimmy was one of those people you would like to be more like but you realize that in order to be more like him you had to be less like yourself. Jimmy obtained his knowledge from studying and learning with old fashioned efforts. Jimmy was a good man and a good friend, I will miss him.

Tonight I had to decompress and allow myself to relax. I guess a psychic connection with my daughter kicked in because she called exactly at the very moment I needed her to call. We had a good conversation about a various range of subject and it was what I needed. She was a dose of good medicine.

Here is what I said today at Jimmy’s funeral. Thank you for listening.

Jimmy Howell was my friend. He was a friend to many as well as a father and a Brother. Jimmy and I once laughed about how many different titles we had to address each other by, from Sir Knight to Frater, Pilgrim and even Companion. Jimmy wasn’t about titles or rank, he was a friend whom you truly enjoyed being around. Many people will tell you that they have the highest respect for Jimmy; I am one of those people.

My first experience with Brother Jimmy Howell was not a face to face meeting. I first met with a stack of five by seven notes cards. Sixty-eight hand-written cards he used to study and learn the famous Camp Lecture from the thirty-second degree in the Scottish Rite. Jimmy was late for this particular reunion because of his work, but he made it. I was thankful, because I was told I was going to have to read it if he didn’t arrive on time. Watching Jimmy Howell recite that lecture was like no other ritual I had witnessed before. Throughout the years as I watched him recite this lecture; he only got better and even expanded it with explanations to add to the candidate’s education.

I discovered that he wasn’t just a Masonic ritualist; he was a student, believer and seeker of more light. Jimmy dug deep into the history and background of what we commonly refer to as the ancient mysteries. He studied the connection with religion and ancient societies such as the Druids and Mithras to the development of modern Freemasonry and beliefs. Jimmy introduced me to various pathways of study within the Masonic order. He led me to the Rosicrucians and the Knight Masons. We discussed many concepts and theories which required an open mind and ability to listen without making judgment. A group of us, who spent most of our time in the balcony at the reunions, would meet after the final degree at a little restaurant in Corinth and discuss various aspects of the degree work. Those were treasured times we will always remember fondly. I once asked him about petitioning an affiliated group to Masonry. Jimmy told me that it was my decision alone but he didn’t see why anyone wouldn’t want to seek out more light. That was Jimmy, he was a seeker.

From my many conversations with Jimmy I know he was a true believer in God. Even though he could discuss various pagan societies and controversial religious history, he told me once that he knew that everyone passed through the arms of Jesus. The fatherhood of God and brotherhood of man was indeed a concept that Jimmy Howell understood. We shared similar circumstances and shared counsel with each other on several occasions.

To his family, my father passed away at age 63 after an extended illness. I understand.

My empathy leads me to tell you that you will carry on and you will miss him. There will be times when you feel deeply that you sure could use him with you at the moment. You will remember what he taught you and benefit from him. Then eventfully you will find yourself saying the things that Jimmy said to you. Realizing afterwards who first said that.

I lost another very close friend just three years ago, he was also 63. I was thinking yesterday that this very fact would have surely opened a discussion with Jimmy about the numerological significance. I am now at that stage with this friend where I am saying I sure could use him here right now. He also knew Jimmy and held him in the highest regard. It’s not easy to lose someone this close to you. You will remember him and everyone who knew the man, Jimmy Howell, will be thankful for having him among us. I understand your feelings this day and please know that because of my friendship with Jimmy, I am also your friend.

We will all remember Jimmy Howell. He was a man with minimum ego and one that showed true respect for everyone. He treated everyone as an equal. We gather here today to say goodbye and honor him. Jimmy will always be there as an example of how we should treat others and how we should seek out more light in this life. Loss is never easy, but if I know Jimmy Howell, he is seeking and finding more of that knowledge and learning of the mysteries we are not yet allowed to know on Earth.

From now on when these words are spoken, they will always belong to Jimmy Howell.
“…… no doctrine or faith or knowledge is of value to a man except as it bears fruit in action. If what you may learn here should warrant you on setting a higher estimate upon yourself, you should be thereby led to aim at nobler ends.”

Thank you for allowing me to be here to honor my good friend. We miss him and remember him always as a friend to many and truly a good man.