Best of Bond - Villains Part 1

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We wouldn’t need James Bond if there were no IBM’s. In this case IBM stands for International Bad Men. Today’s Best of Bond post deals with the Bond villains. For brevity I’ve decided to break the villains posting up into three separate categories dealing with each one at a time. Today I want to address the best plot. I reviewed a lot these plots and I have to give the nod to Hugo Drax from “Moonraker”. This man had his own space program and built his own space station. You have to give the man an A+ for dreaming big. Drax had a bit of a Hitler complex going in that he had decided that he needed to create a master race which would replace the current iteration of mankind.

So his plan was to build a space station to house his these individuals while he killed off the Earth’s population with poison gas. I’ve always wondered why he couldn’t just stick them in a really well sealed room in a deep cave and give them gas masks? But that wouldn’t be as cool. Like I said this guy wins purely because his plan was just so ambitious. If you’re willing to build your own space program then I think that gives you this category hands down. Of course James ends up kicking his ass and saving the world.

I have to go ahead and give the runner up award to Mr. Big/Dr. Kananga from “Live and Let Die.” His plan wasn’t as grand or ambitious but it was vastly more realistic and would have yielded limitless amounts of tax free cash. Kananga wanted to corner the heroin market and essentially be the exclusive worldwide supplier of the drug. He remarked that he and AT&T would be the only existing monopolies on the planet. It was because of the realism and simplicity that I gave him the runner up award.

Next Friday I will examine the best “Villain Character”… It will be better than this post I promise.

Don't Touch That Dial

Well it seems that the jury in the Bobbi Parker trial has informed the world that they think pretty much like we do. Yesterday the jury found Bobbi Parker guilty of assisting convicted murderer Randolph Dial in his escape followed by a rather protracted flight form justice. It seems that for almost eleven years they were living on the lam and eating high on the chicken. Did anyone really believe that she was being held against her will?

I think most people would find it utterly implausible to believe that in more than ten years she never had the opportunity to flag down a member of law enforcement or even find a large stick with which she could strike her alleged captor. Even if we consider the Hollywood ready assertion that he supposedly kept her in line with threats of mafia related boogie men who would kill her family if she revealed their whereabouts, one has to wonder why she couldn’t just call her family and tell them to watch their backs and then drop the dime on him.

I’m usually a pretty law and order minded individual who believes quite strongly in the astute words of the Baretta theme song, “Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time…” but in this case I really find the whole thing kind of amusing. Here was a convicted murderer who literally charmed the pants off of an assistant Warden’s wife and talked her into running off with him to live a life of fun, freedom, frolic and fornication. I have no doubt that they laughed in a somewhat sinister manner about the state official that they had duped and cuckled the entire time. So this brings me to my next point.

Once the couple was found living on the chicken ranch down in Texas, okay, not that Chicken Ranch, what was going through the mind of Randy Parker, Bobbi’s husband, in that he was willing to welcome her back into his arms and his household? Also, how can you let a convicted murderer escape and steal your wife in the process yet still retain your job as a “security and facilities operations manager”? A convicted murderer escaped on his watch, snagged his wife and lived as a free man for eleven years but he didn’t get fired? Which Governor is his brother-in-law?

Okay, I will be the first to stipulate that I may not know all of the facts surrounding the matter but I think like most Oklahomans I have a pretty good idea what went on. As for the trial of Bobbi Parker I think it was a waste of time and taxpayer money as far as the true relevance of justice. But I also understand and fully appreciate the need for the trial to take place and furthermore the outright need obtain a conviction. The state needed a conviction so that “Beguiling Bobbi” can’t become “Best Selling Bobbi.” It’s my understanding that in Oklahoma, like in many other states, those convicted of a crime cannot profit from said crime. Therefore, any lucrative book and TV movie deals would be off the table. Oh they can certainly write books and make movies but Bobbi Parker can’t gain from them monetarily. That being said I wonder if Randy Parker can gain revenue from the sale of a book or movie. I’m no attorney but I would bet that he probably can, and will, make a pretty penny from selling his story. The question is why would he want to?

I think that were I Randy Parker, I would want to distance myself from her in every aspect. They say never underestimate the power of true love but I just don’t think I could see myself being too forgiving of a woman who would leave me for a convicted murderer all the while knowing that life on the run would be less than ideal. Yet that is exactly what I believe her to have done, and now so does a jury of her peers. Now that her book deal is off the table and there’s no cash to be made maybe he will now divorce her and carry on with his life. I certainly hope so.

Even though they don’t house female inmates there I think it would be pretty ironic if Bobbi had to do her one year at the same prison from which she helped Dial escape. Heck who knows, maybe she could seduce the Warden?

Sir... You Need A Brazilian

I work in the technology industry. The field is ever changing and what you did yesterday may not be what you’ll be doing tomorrow. Many people are reluctant to change but most go ahead and adapt because depending upon the circumstance they may have no choice. When it comes to technology I’m pretty flexible and adapting to something new has become somewhat routine. But there is one area of my life in which I do not like change and that is music. Whenever I have a favorite band or group I really don’t like it when key members depart or take on new roles that really don’t fit the way I think they should. Remember this is Blogland and my thoughts are always correct, ha ha ha.

Anyone who has followed this blog from the beginning knows that I like classical music and they further know that I really like one specific orchestra in particular. I’m a diehard fan of the Johann Strauss Orchestra led by Andre Rieu. I like them because they offer so many components with each performance. It’s not just a group of musicians sitting on stage playing drab music. If you’re unfamiliar with the show I suggest you check out my previous post The Older The Violin The Longer The Story for a complete overview and synopsis. But to simplify the point they aren’t your regular orchestra.

I recently attended one of their performances and it was a great experience as always but there was just something lacking. Years ago when Rieu added soloists to the show he had three great singers that I really liked. He had one young lady from his native Limburg, Suzan Erens, and two really talented Brazilian sopranos. The Brazilians, Carmen Monracha and Carla Maffioletti, were staples of the production for quite some time and then it seemed that gradually they were less and less prominent and eventually they just became part time. Each of the two girls now has their own career but return to perform with Team Rieu every now and then for the major concerts which are filmed for release on DVD. Last year Carmen joined the US tour and I was fortunate enough to see her perform. The year prior to that, in 2009, I had the privilege of seeing Carla tour with the show. But this year, alas there were no Brazilians.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that there’s anything wrong with the current talent lineup. In fact, it was Mirusia that I first saw sing in concert that day back at the Ford Center in 2008 which made me such a zealous fan. Furthermore I will be the first one to say that Kalki Schrijvers, is vastly under used and should be brought to the forefront far more often. She has a great talent that is not being used to its full potential. But Maestro, you really need at least one Brazilian on each tour!

I don’t know why the Brazilians aren’t always on tour. Maybe it’s contract negotiations or personality conflicts or perhaps even a cost factor. It could be that they just grew tired of all the travel. After all, they play somewhere around 120 to 150 concert dates per year so perhaps that was a factor. All I know is that I would really like to see the Brazilians back with JSO on a more consistent basis. And as long as we are talking about JSO personnel, I really don’t think the plane should be allowed to leave Dutch air space without Nicolle Steins… Just saying!

But in closing, I want to say that I had a remarkable time at the most recent concert. It was great being able to hang out for a few moments with Mirusia and Bela before the concert. I can’t wait to see them again next month in Grand Prairie. And who knows… maybe I will get to see one of the Brazilians as well. And of course I won’t complain if Nicolle tags along. If you’ve never seen a performance by Andre Rieu and the Johann Strauss Orchestra I really suggest you give it a shot. They will be in Grand Prairie, Texas on October 19. I have no idea if any tickets are remaining but I really think it’s worth your time and trouble if you have even the slightest interest in classical music.

And Down The Stretch They Come!

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Recently someone passing by my desk said that I was a pessimist. They made that assertion because they overheard one of my standard catchphrases. Whenever someone asks me how it’s going or what I am doing at work I usually offer up my standard reply, “Waiting for one of two things; death or time to go home, which ever gets here first.” This passerby thought this to be a negative statement bordering on the macabre when actually that’s not the case at all. It’s not necessarily positive but it’s certainly not negative. In truth the phrase is completely realistic.

It’s simple logic. One of two events will occur before the other. Thus far Time to go Home has been on a pretty good winning streak. But who knows, someday Death might make a dash in the final turn and power down the home stretch to edge out Time to go Home by a nose. I have to say that if I should die at work I hope that it’s early in the shift. It’s not like I would get to cash the paycheck for the hours worked that day.

This brings up another point. I wonder how long after you stop convulsing it is until they clock you out? Do you think they make a mad dash to get you clocked out before it rounds up to the next quarter hour? I will have to ask the HR lady about this. If you’re talking with a customer at the time (What a great way to go) does someone have to pick up your death cootie infected headset and carry on with the conversation? I kind of hope so because if death is like some people’s account and you get to hover above your body for a few minutes that would be pretty entertaining. I could just see the guy that sits next to me holding my headset out at arm’s length and shouting into it. You give them Hell JJ!!!

But think about this, what if you knew that you only had about 30 seconds to live and you were at the office? Would you dash about the cubes telling people off or would you take that last half minute to reflect and pray? I’d probably try to work out about 15 seconds for each. After all, life is all about balance isn’t it?

I have to admit that when I die I really hope it’s not at work. I hope that it’s in the middle of doing something really interesting or fun. Naturally I hope it comes quickly. I’d hate to languish in the bottom of a well for days waiting on a collie to alert someone as to my presence. One time a guy at work, in fact it was JJ the guy who will have to pry the headset off my dead body and carry on, asked me if I had ever seen anyone die a violent death. I told him that I had and he seemed a bit surprised.

Several years ago I was driving on I-35 and I saw a hot air balloon making what I am assuming was an emergency descent. When he was within about 75 feet of the ground the cage on top of the gondola which holds the propane tanks hit a high current power line. There was an arc and a quick flash and then a huge fireball. It was just like you would see in a movie. I could see the two occupants engulfed in flame. It was quick it was simple and obviously sobering. I don’t want to die by fire or drowning, those are my two deal breakers.

In closing I guess it should be stated that few of us have any real choice about when or how death comes unless you bring it about yourself. By the way, suicide is another deal breaker. When me and The Reaper have to square off I swear I will kick his ass if he whips out a flame or large body of water.

Best of Bond Fridays - The Car Post

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Well it’s Friday so that means it’s time for the next installment in the “Best of Bond” series. Today we are going to discuss something that is always a hot topic of conversation among both Bond fans and automotive enthusiasts in general and that is the cars driven by Bond in the various films. When I started to write this post I already had in mind which vehicle that I was going to deem “Best of Bond.” I thought it would only be prudent to do a little research for this post so I did some looking around and had a change of mind.

Initially I was going to go with the Lotus Turbo Esprit from “The Spy who Loved Me” which could, on demand, could turn into a submarine. My first impulse to go with this car, believe it or not, was not because it was poised to become amphibious, but because I simply thought it looked like a badass car. But then I did some looking and decided that I really liked the V-12 Vanquish by Aston Martin as seen in “Die Another Day.” I decided to restrict my vehicle selection based upon looks and how well I thought the vehicle actually fit the character. Because there were simply so many of them, and some were utterly ridiculous, I decided to throw special effects and gadgets out of the equation.

I thought it more important, at least in my rationale, that we focus on not just the character James Bond himself, but instead on the overall nuance that the franchise itself instills among fans. During my research, which I can assure you was more than I had initially intended, I learned that a lot of the diehard fans feel that any time Bond is seen in anything other than an Aston Martin they have been somewhat slighted. It seems that Bond devotees fell in love with the DB5 used in “Goldfinger” and from that point on a great many fans felt that it was the quintessential ride for our man James.

But the best thing about term “best” is that in this context it is entirely subjective. There really are no right or wrong answers and everything is merely opinion based upon whatever criteria the reader feels is most relevant. So while I like the Vanquish, always remember… Your mileage may vary.

Please Show Me The Way To The Next Whiskey Bar

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Whenever you enter a club or a bar or a restaurant you usually know from the moment you walk in whether you like it or not. Sometimes first impressions can change over time but more often than not your first impression is the one which colors your mood from the beginning. I had the pleasure of attending the Grand Opening of OKC’s newest Bricktown bar and I have to say that I hope my first impression never changes because I have to tell you that I really liked this place.

Whiskey Chicks officially opened their doors for the first time this evening and I would have to say that it was a great success. It’s kind of hard to describe the place because it doesn’t really fit into any one specific niche. It’s not a honky-tonk, it’s not a dance club, it’s not a martini lounge. It’s not even a quaint neighborhood bar, at least not completely. It’s easier to tell you what it’s not because it’s hard to tell you what it is. This place has its own unique feel to it. The management likes to refer to it as a whiskey parlor and I suppose that’s a pretty apt description.

The décor remains true to the structure and purpose of the building’s history as a warehouse. The hardwood floors and stout beams frame the place in an excellent representation of the early 1900’s when whiskey parlors were at their peak of prominence. There’s no chrome or harsh lines in the design. The tables and chairs are all wood which match the floor and walls. The bar itself is an impressive structure and has that perfect feel when you belly up. It’s that feeling that tells you that you’re in a comfortable place where you can sit for hours to watch the game or chat with your friends.

What I feel is the most important factor in setting the mood for any establishment is the lighting. The lighting in Whiskey Chicks is perfect whether it be day or night. No harsh fluorescent lighting and thankfully no glaring neon except for the sign and a thin red line around the perimeter for accent. But the most interesting piece of décor is the period specific chandelier that hangs in the center of the room. It’s not ostentatious and it really doesn’t draw attention to itself but it's really a beautiful piece that in my opinion is the signature of the whole theme.

The list of whiskeys on hand is impressive to say the least and the experienced bar staff is knowledgeable and quite efficient. Your wait for a drink is never long. The wait staff is friendly, attentive and provides the perfect amount of interaction without being intrusive. Our server was a young lady named Liz who was spunky, charming and cute as hell. She really amplified the whole experience and was such a part of the overall tone of the night. So much so that she should certainly be viewed as one of the parlor’s more dynamic aspects.

While touted as a whiskey parlor it would be remiss if I didn’t point out the extensive selection of foreign and domestic beers on hand as well as the other standard spirits and wines that round out the offerings of most bars. Your desire to imbibe will certainly not be thwarted by a limited selection of booze.

While the drinks are great, it would be an utter crime if I failed to mention the magnificent food that is served. The menu is adequately diverse and the fare literally ranges from burgers to French toast. The burgers and sliders are probably some of the best I’ve had in years, and that’s NOT an exaggeration. The sliders are seasoned with an amazing Buffalo Aioli that is guaranteed to bring you back. I dare anyone to sample the sliders and tell me they’re not the best you’ve encountered. I also dare you to tell me that you won’t want to go back for them the next day. I know I did.

Now that we’ve talked about the food, drink and atmosphere let’s talk about the entertainment. Anyone who has ever been out with me knows that the moment the local band starts their set, or the first karaoke superstar picks up a microphone, I’m the first one to bolt for the door. I’m not saying that I’m a musical snob but I know what I personally like and it’s usually not offered up in the repertoire of the folks you find slamming out three or four chords at Baker’s Street. But I have to admit that I was very pleasantly surprised by the band and vocalist that took the stage tonight.

Cami Stinson and the Uptown Band put on a first rate show and I will be the first to confess that I really liked what I heard. The music was mostly what I would call jazz with maybe just a hint of blues. I’ve always been one who has a difficult time figuring out when the line between jazz and blues is blurred but I really enjoyed this act. I didn’t catch his name but the guy on trombone really gelled the act. There’s a better than average chance that if I knew that Cami and these guys were going to be playing somewhere I would probably go out of my way to hear them. I really hope that they become somewhat a fixture at this joint and play there frequently.

That’s about all there is to tell you about Whiskey Chicks other than the fact that fun is hard to describe sometimes and must actually be experienced. They offer up free Wi-Fi with a great signal and they’re conveniently located at 115 E. Reno in the heart of Bricktown. They’re housed in the little red Wells Fargo building on the north side of Reno directly across from Starbucks and Texadelphia. There’s a pretty good sized parking lot right next to the building and of course the larger lots on the south side of Reno near Harkins and the U-Haul facility are always there for convenience.

Simple and vibrant is what I would call this quaint little whiskey house and if you don’t stop in there you’re really missing out.

Lord Bless The Small Farm Animals Because I Can't Help Them Now

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Well it looks like the University of Maryland unveiled their new uniforms this evening when they took on ACC Conference rival Miami. Yep, the Terps and “The U” are going head to head and so far the only real losers have been the corneas and retinas of the viewers. It’s halftime and so far it’s been a pretty good game. But unlike so many blogs that are being written at this moment, this one is not about the atrocious new uniforms being sported by the Terrapins, at least not entirely.

Seeing the Hurricanes take the field naturally reminded me of Doug Flutie and “The Pass.” Tonight’s game is being played in Maryland but “The Pass” was thrown in Miami’s famed Orange Bowl. Now as you may recall from my last posting, two of the things of which I am a major fan are Doug Flutie and “The Pass.” I am going to tell you folks the tale of a failed mission and unfulfilled desire.

A couple years back, give or take a few months, my friend Brad was sent to Miami on business. He’d been in Miami a couple of days when it occurred to me that he was near the holy ground where Dougie planted his foot, leaned back and threw his way into history. I sent him a quick text and told him that his new mission was not to close a deal for his employer but rather to procure a soil sample from somewhere near the 36 yard line, about the center of the field. That was where Dougie was standing when he let it fly.

Brad knew that this was a very important mission and he quickly accepted. I remember thinking what I might do with my magic dirt. I figured that merely running my fingers through this sacred earth would give me the ability to see into the future, at least on a short term basis, and heal small farm animals. With the ability to see even ten or fifteen seconds into the future, gambling would no longer be gambling and I would soon be a bona fide Zillionaire. The small farm animals would be on their own. I had my life planned out and all I needed to make it happen was a few ounces of soil.

I remember where I was when I got the horrible news. It was kind of like a bad dream but I couldn’t wake up. Of course the reason I couldn’t wake up was because I wasn’t asleep. This was no dream. The phone rang and I saw that it was Brad. I quickly answered and I heard Brad laughing. I took this as a good sign because who amongst us could not be filled with joy and happiness having just pilfered some of the most glorious dirt in the universe?

I asked him if he got it and the conversation went something like the following:

“Did you get it?”
“Well not exactly.”
“What?”
“It was gone.”
“Huh?”
“Uhh the Orange Bowl is gone. There’s just a big fence and a big hole. The GPS on the rental said this is where it should be but, it’s gone.”

It seems that unbeknownst to us the Orange Bowl had been demolished just two months earlier. It was still in the GPS software but the hallowed ground was not there any longer. And so it remains, no magic dirt, no visions of the future and no ability to heal small farm animals and of course no Zillionaire Bobman.

But there is still hope. Maybe someday there will be a Gameday set at one of the state campuses and Dougie himself will be there as a commentator. Maybe I can get an autographed ball, maybe I could even get him to throw the ball to me. I figure if I catch a ball thrown by the man himself that I will be able to…

Remember The One Where Muammar...

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I’m always fond of pointing out that the best thing about blogging is that I make the rules and yes Blogland is a dictatorship in which I capriciously make unilateral decisions based upon my own whims. In other words, it’s good to be the King. My first rule is that this has to be fun. The day it stops being fun is the day I stop writing and delete this little carnival.

Dictatorships are always interesting. Some are quite benign while others are utterly malevolent. I would think that like most things, dictatorships are seldom completely one thing and not the other. For example even the worst dictatorships have even the smallest smatterings of good attached to them. As they say even with Mussolini, “The trains ran on time.” Okay maybe not the best example of the give and take relation between a dictator and his subjects but I think you get my gist. Few things in life are absolute.

This weekend we were watching some College Football and at some point the topic of Muammar Gadafi or Khadafi, or Gadhafi or one of the other myriads of spellings out there, not to mention the ones starting with “Q”… take your pick… It’s okay I give you permission.. came to the forefront of the discussion. Anyway, between first downs and while in transit to different locales we talked a lot about Muammar and my friend Brad and I decided that eventually he would probably be forced into some form of exile, either on this world or another. We decided that if forced into exile Muammar would have to land somewhere. I decided that the premiere place for Muammar to spend the rest of his days would be Del City, Oklahoma. Even more specifically, my house.

Now don’t get me wrong and don’t try to second guess my patriotism or politics. And certainly don’t ignore the capitalistic streak that runs down my back. You see I think that Muammar would make an interesting house guest to say the least but he would make an even better Reality TV star. I think that myself and Brad would make wonderful co-hosts of a great new reality show called, “Hangin’ With Muammar.” I think it has some merit. After all, “The Bachelor” and “Love in the Wild” prove that Americans will watch ANYTHING no matter how inane or ridiculous.
There are so many potentially promising aspects of the show. Think about the following scenarios and how they might play out.

We’ve all been there. We try to be patient and understanding but let’s face it, sometimes that 11 year old kid that takes just way too long to make the decision at Red Box can be more than a little annoying. How would Muammar handle the situation? We really don’t know for certain. He might scream at the child in some Arabic tongue or would he kneel down and assist the child with his selection? Who knows?

Most of the show would consist of me, Brad and Muammar riding around in the Blazer and interacting with folks but a lot of it would center around the mundane tasks in which we all engage daily. Think about a segment where Muammar must make a decision as to who his favorite “Teen Mom” is. As the camera pulled back I would look to Brad and say, “I swear to God if he says Farrah I am so going to play the race card.”

How cool would it be to have a segment of the show featuring Muammar at a karaoke bar? I’m thinking Nancy’s 57th St. Lighthouse over on May. I bet the man could bring tears to your eyes with a soulful rendition of “Sitting on the Dock of the Bay” or perhaps an earthy vocalization of “Killing me Softly With His Song.” Mmmmm, I’ve got goose bumps already. And by the way I mean the ORIGINAL Killing Me Softly by Roberta Flack. Not this new one by Fugees. On a side note, by using the adjectives soulful and earthy I’ve basically summed up the complete list of clever words used by most music reviewers.

I suppose that if he were to live out his exile in Del City he would come out of the deal with a couple pallets of crisp Benjamins wrapped tightly in Saran Wrap. At least that’s how it works in the movies. When it was time for us to go out and interact with the populous we would just carve off however much money we think we might need and hit the town. No detailed logistics here. That’s how Muammar’s Posse rolls! With money as no object and unlimited time, as we could certainly quit our day jobs, I think that Brad and I could get Muammar in and out of enough jams that we could easily stretch the show to two or three seasons, perhaps more.

I could go on and on forever about the pure TV gold that we could mine with Muammar playing Jenga and Scrabble. And I bet the man probably plays Sorry! on a level that Eunice, Ed and Mama could only imagine. If you don’t get that last reference to Sorry! and Eunice I suggest you Google it. It’s well worth your time. But I guess if it were just the three of us all the time things could get boring. So… you guessed it, guest appearances.

Could you just imagine the good times that would flow if Charlie Sheen showed up on the deck to grill some burgers with The Mo Man? In fact we could probably get Charlie and Momo to exchange some recipes and who knows, maybe even swap a story or two about hookers, dead ones and those still living? And as long as we are on the subject of special guests I know that I for one would love to gather up some of the neighborhood kids to play some flag football with Momo leading one team against special guest Quarterback Doug Flutie. I can just hear Brad and I screaming, “Hit me Dougie, I’m open!” The possibilities of “Hangin’ with Muammar” are endless. It could possibly replace "The Real World" as the longest running reality show. That is providing Muammar ages well and his trusty nurse is always near.

Maybe it’s just me, but I think being able to quit my day job and ride around town with Brad, Muammar and an MTV film crew would be a lot of fun. And remember that’s all this particular blog is about, fun. I hope you had some.

Solomon's Grave: Discovering Private Dickson Solomon

I could tell you how to get there but it would take a while. Even with good directions it’s still hard to find. Hard but not impossible; all of the logging roads look just alike. There are no signs or markers to point the way but I know that taking, “The first right and then second left off of the main road” is the way my Uncle Keith taught me to find it.

In the middle of the Honobia Creek Wildlife Management Area located in Southeastern Oklahoma you will find something that is strangely out of place. It’s not exactly hidden but if you’re not careful you can drive right by it, especially in the spring and summer. It’s not a rare tree or unique geological formation that I am speaking of but rather a grave. A small, solitary grave in the absolute middle of nowhere.

The context in which I’ve usually heard it discussed is not as a memorial or actual burial site, but usually as a landmark used by hunters. Solomon’s Grave as it is commonly known by those who hunt and fish in the area is indeed an actual grave. I presume there’s someone buried in the rocky ground below the headstone but I’m not inquisitive enough to check for myself. The name on the headstone reads:

Private Dickson Solomon
Co I, 144th Infantry
Born June 11, 1890
Died in France October 22, 1918

That’s all of the information I have regarding this individual. It’s pretty easy to figure out that he died in WWI, obviously in France. We assume that he was killed in combat but I suppose that he could have died from disease, accidental death or something other than wounds sustained in battle.

It’s really hard to describe just how remote this grave is. As a child, I had heard a couple of my uncles reference the grave as a meeting place or landmark used to explain the proximity of a favorite hunting spot but it was not until I was about 25 that I actually saw the grave. When I saw the grave itself I realized that I had been at that “intersection” of two logging roads several times with my Dad and various others but I had never noticed the grave. I will state that up until the last 10 years the grave had been overgrown and all but concealed by vines and other vegetation up until 2001.

In 2001, right after the events of September 11, when patriotism swelled and supporting the troops became the “in thing” to do it seems that someone spiffed up the grave and even added a flagpole, They cleared the vines and painted the small wrought iron fence a bright blue and apparently someone cares enough to place flowers on the grave from time to time as evidenced in the photo below.

I’m not sure of anything other than what I have outlined above. But the curious streak in me wants to carry out some research on Dickson Solomon and see what I can find out. I think the first place I will start is the Pushmataha County Historical Society. In fact I plan to give them a call within the next few days and see what I can learn. I’m sure that there is some sort of military record database that can be accessed if one knows the right keystrokes but I fear that might be a little more difficult than it sounds. I’ve been curious about the individual interred there ever since I first saw the grave but now I am finally to the point that my curiosity can no longer wait and I plan to investigate as thoroughly as possible. Naturally I will revisit this topic in subsequent posts providing I am able to gain any additional information.

I’m told that there are a few other graves scattered among the hills and forests of the region but I’ve never seen them. I don’t think any of them are as well known as Solomon’s Grave but I will see if I can get more information about them as well when I dig further into this mystery.

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If you really want to know more about the location of this grave I can tell you this much. Proceed east through the town of Cloudy, OK. Turn left at the first large 4 way logging intersection and then just remember, “Take the first right and then the second left” and it will be on the left hand side of the road. Hahaha, that should lead you right to it.