Phannie

Phannie
Photo taken near Monument Valley, Utah

Sunday, April 23, 2023

A Night Mail Pilot Stumbles Upon...Ray Price?

 At Ranchito Hondo, Hondo, Texas...

In the last post, I promised a story about Ray Price. Here it is, as I wrote it in my column current in my hometown newspaper:

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I’m going to use another column or two to tell a few stories about flying the mail at night between East Texas and Dallas while most of you were asleep; this was between the years 1968 and 1973. In last month’s column, I shared about the existence of the flights that were reminiscent of the early days of mail flying but resurrected for the second time fifty years later. I also mentioned that the terminus of the outbound evening flight was in Dallas. The airport then was Dallas Love Field, where all the other mail planes (and airliners carrying mail) converged. The new DFW International Airport hadn’t opened at the time.

The mail planes all parked near an executive terminal, where they were unloaded, fueled and loaded for the outbound flights in the early morning. On one memorable arrival (I can’t remember the date), I was walking toward the executive lounge after unloading the airplane, and I noticed a sleek Learjet parked near the terminal door with the airplane’s door open and the interior lights on. As I walked past the jet, I saw that the flight crew was not aboard (they were inside the terminal) and that there was a sole occupant sitting on the rear bench seat with his reading light on. As I passed the open door, I recognized him immediately as none other than the county music legend, Ray Price.

Mr. Price had obviously just finished a concert in the Dallas area and was awaiting his crew to complete their preparations and fly him to his next stop. I assumed this because he was dressed in his sequined stage attire, but with his coat and tie removed.

I couldn’t help myself; poking my head in the door, I gulped and said, “Hello, Mr. Price; I just wanted to tell you I’m a big fan of yours! He looked up immediately at the intrusion and flashed a grin. “Come on up here; what are you doing out there, young man?”

I had not expected this, but I sheepishly climbed the stairs, and he motioned for me to sit down in one of the mid-cabin seats, which I did and turned toward him. Before I could even think of what to say in such a private environment, he began to ask ME questions about what I was doing out there in the middle of the night. I explained that I was a mail pilot, and he seemed genuinely interested in the nightly gathering of mail planes. I’m pretty sure he wasn’t, but he obviously wanted to put me at ease. We chatted a bit—I was too star-struck to remember the details, and I even forgot to ask for his autograph! I could see that his eyes were tired, and I suspect his having to make small talk with a nobody like me was not helping him get some needed rest. Soon, his pilots boarded, and I scurried off the jet, thanking him for being so generous with his time. He waved and smiled, as if we were old friends; the copilot closed the door, and Ray Price was gone.

My friend, David Stallings, the publisher of Around the Town, and I have had conversations about the days of his business relationship with Ray Price, and David was not at all surprised about the down-home friendliness the star had shown me. “That’s just the way he was,” said David. “He loved people and loved his fans.” I believe it, David.



Ray Price, Country Music Legend

 


 

Lear Jet


Thank you, Lord, for this wonderful life; please forgive me if I don't appreciate it as I should every day.



We don't stop playing because we get old; we get old because we stop playing. 
 ---George Bernard Shaw

"I get up every morning, and I just don't let the old man in." ---Clint Eastwood

Wednesday, April 12, 2023

The Cast is Off; Rehab Begins

 At Ranchito Hondo, Hondo, Texas...

In the last post, I showed a photo of my hand just after surgery. A couple of days ago, they removed the more permanent hard cast that had been annoying me for weeks. Having never worn a cast before, I couldn't imagine how they would saw it off without also dismembering my hand, which would leave me in worse shape than before surgery! Oddly, the technician demonstrated beforehand that even if the saw were touched directly to the arm, it would not leave a cut of any kind. I still haven't figured that out! I thought I would include a little video here of the process. Here is the link:

https://www.dropbox.com/s/hrnw85gs5cmsowe/Mike%27s%20Cast%20Removal.mp4?dl=0

There is a good chance that a number of readers will have this surgery when they get older, and there are lots of YouTube videos that describe it in detail. It's called a CMC Arthroplasty, and I can already tell you that it is a welcome relief from the arthritis pain I was suffering. I am typing this post quite easily and painlessly only six weeks after surgery. My left hand and wrist are a bit weak after having been immobilized for that time, but I can already tell that progress in that area will be rapid. I haven't tried playing the piano yet, but that will come in a day or two. 

Besides the surgery, we haven't been doing much here at the park. I have been elected to the board of directors, so that has taken up a good bit of my spare time. 

Lot owners are already starting to thin out from here as they begin their spring and summer travels, and we will be joining them in mid-May. Our first stop will be in Conroe, Texas to see the kids and then to Arkansas to visit friends and get a little paint touch-up on Phannie. After that, we'll drift over to Red Bay for a couple of items, then to Colorado again for the summer. 

Since I don't have much to chat about until we begin our travels in May, I'll simply leave you with a photo of Crater Lake, one of the many wonderful sights that we've enjoyed all over the country:


For those who are wondering about what our "escape plan" will be from fulltiming, the answer is that we don't really have one. I've already written about our status now after 18 years of RVing and seven years of fulltiming. Well, Sandy and I talk occasionally about that and, while we could be said really to be part-timing right now, neither of us has any desire to have the confinement, upkeep and expense of a stick-and-brick house. 

The little cabin on our property is just right to hold our personal items, the piano and a small workshop. It is air conditioned and has a nice seating arrangement for guests, but we don't live in it. It is just sort of an extension of Phannie. It's also pretty neat to be able to rent out our RV pad during our extended absences.

We'll have some more updates when we begin rolling again before long, but that's what's going on right now.

Thank you, Lord, for this wonderful life; please forgive me if I don't appreciate it as I should every day.



We don't stop playing because we get old; we get old because we stop playing. 
 ---George Bernard Shaw

"I get up every morning, and I just don't let the old man in." ---Clint Eastwood