Sneaky Daddy Like New Makeover

My dear, talented wife asked me this weekend if I wanted to give my blog a full makeover. So, I of course said, "Oh yes!" So, within a little while, she had this new look for me. Which, of course, I love.

I would love to take this moment to thank my wife, Jill (Sneaky Momma), for working so hard on my blog.

Love you, Honey!

--Lane

First 5-Greatest Comic Book/Cartoon Heroes

Do I claim to be a comic nerd...no. But, as a child, I had a passing fancy with super heroes. I enjoyed the thought that little geeky me, circa 10 years old, could be faster than a speeding bullet, fling through the night sky on a web or on bat wings, fly in an invisible jet and...okay, not really that last one.

But, I digress. This is the day that I tell the truth without passion or bias. I will be mainstream. If you have a comic book hero that I haven't heard of, than to be honest, they do NOT belong on this list.

First 5 Super Heroes

5. The Green Lantern-Hey, he had a cool ring that could do anything. He was a fringe hero, someone I could relate to growing up. In the schoolyard in elementary, everyone wanted to be some of the others lower on the list...I wanted to be the Lantern. Guess, he always will have a spot in my heart for that.

4. Flash-Geez, wouldn't it be cool to be the Flash and line up as a wideout in the NFL? Speed kills. But in this case, it thrills. Uniform was a little, well, GAY! But, the idea was sound and I know I would've loved to have super speed. (Or any speed)

3. Batman-Cool toys. Perhaps the coolest outfit out there....Black as night. Probably would be higher here if he actually was physically 'super'. But, the rich guy was definitely the persona we all would've love(d) to be.

2. Superman-Had the coolest skill set of any hero. He could fly, he could lift whole trains by himself, he could spit fire from his eyes, hear a mouse fart on a pillow at 100 miles, crap gold, etc. Basically, he could do anything needed...except be in the same area as Kryptonite. If he was, he would be weaker than a Woody Allen Character.

1. Spiderman-While the other heroes would win by far more than they lost, he was about .500. He was a kid that had his powers thrust upon him. He learned on the fly and in this case the story is what is cool about this hero. He was not invincible. He was not overly intelligent. He was not unbeatable. He was real....well, once you get past the whole radioactive spider thing.

Writer's Workshop-Childhood and Foiling the 'Magic Hat'

One of the things I look forward to the most is Mama Katt's writer's workshop. This week she has come up with several interesting prompts. They are:


1.) Somebody I'm praying for....

MckMama's family.

2.) I don't believe in prayer because...

Um...not applicable for me.

3.) What are you putting off right now?

Grading papers...a lot of papers.

4.) You can go back to your childhood for one day. What day and age do you choose?


5.) Your friend tells you he can pick up any girl at the bar, no matter what he says. You bet him $100 he can't. Create the world's worst pick up line and send your friend off into the crowd. What happens?


Since I neglected my studies and did not turn in my homework last week, I am choosing two of Mama Katt's prompts...hopefully I will get extra credit for them.


4. Select a day in childhood, what age and day do I choose?


The year was 1983. I was in middle school and a bit on the nerdy side. (Okay, scrawny, coke bottle glasses with Buddy Holly glasses, and social awkwardness...if the dictionary had a picture of the word nerd, my mug would've been published.) Anyways, the day would be in late October as 95 pound weakling young Lane was playing football. They had moved me off the line and I was playing backup full back. It was hard to place me in a position with my unique skill set.


I was small, but I was slow.


As in all great stories, I was given a chance to play because the starting fullback got banged up. So, knowing that I was not the best of all blockers (kind of why they took me off the line) the coach decided to run the '23 counter' which in this play I would get the ball on a kind of reverse. For some reason, putting me with the ball was less risky than letting me block. I guess with reasoning such as this is why this coach only coached middle school and never went on to bigger and better things.


Well, for TWO consecutive plays I ran like a man possessed. First play, I went nine yards before a guy caught me by my shoestrings. If he missed I was off to the races...which knowing my lack of speed, I would've lost.


Then he let me run again. I missed the tackler this time and was running up the sideline. Fifteen yard gain!! At the end of the drive, we scored a touchdown. But, we rean the '23 counter' for the two point conversion which I scored on. (I was knocked across by a rather large teammate and saw stars for probably two minutes)


I wish I could say that this was the beginning of my running back career and that I found the postion on the field that was mine. But, it didn't. The starter was back the next drive and I was back on the bench. I played football for six years on the middle school and high school teams and success was few and far in between for me. It was more of a test to see if I could finish out the season more than enjoyment. However, for that drive I found enjoyment and a great deal of it.


5.) Your friend tells you he can pick up any girl at the bar, no matter what he says. You bet him $100 he can't. Create the world's worst pick up line and send your friend off into the crowd. What happens?


Since I'm in to time travel today, I'm going to imagine myself back at Tarleton State University, circa early 1990's. I had a friend named 'Dexter' (not the name he would choose to use) who wore what we all acknowledged as 'The Hat of Magic'. It was a black cowboy style hat that looked similar to one George Strait threw on when he went singing. As my friend was thin, six foot three and wore boots, the George Strait image definitely was portrayed when we went bar-hopping. As the hat went on, his persona was complete. He was a veritable 'Funky Cole Medina' to girls at the ol' Dodge House that used to be the cowboy/cowgirl hangout.


Realizing such a powerful Talisman existed with the headwear, if the mighty 'Dex' brought out the bet, I feel my anti-aphrodisiac abilities would be equal to the challenge.


This how I would imagine the night would go. Clint Black would be singing the song 'Better Man' and the beer would be flowing. Girl's dressed in feminine rural attire would be drinking, smoking, and dancing. I would be the odd man out as I look stupid in a cowboy hat and boots hurt my feet. So, my role would be only as spectator. As the darkness, the sound, and the seemingly endless supply of Bud Lite began to work in Dex, he would proclaim his challenge to the world. 'With this hat, I am the most wanted man in here.' Or probably he would say, 'Dude, I can nail any girl in this place!'


So, as we consider the stakes, we pick a seemingly wall flower like girl who would be somewhat in his league. I lean over and I whisper the line he must use as I walk over non chalantly to the side and watch the action. I feel the C-Note will be well spent just to hear the phrase that will be on the lips of my bud as he leaps into action.


The music goes silent as the Dex smiling, says one of these anti romantic lines.


A. Are you a Trekkie?

B. Do you know what 'menage a tois' means?

C. I have the nation's largest gay porn collection, would you like to see it?

D. You look like a movie star...did you double for Rosie O'Donnell or something?

E. I know you must recognize me, I was on the Jerry Springer show about ten times.

F. How much for just an hour of gooooodddd lovin'?

I win.

NOT ME MONDAY-SPRING BREAK ADDITION

Thanks to McKmama for the Blog Carnival that is 'NOT ME MONDAY'. Check her out!!


Well, since it was Spring Break, nothing really happened. We did NOT go out of town at all. Since we did not go anywhere, I'm not even feeling bad about not loading our suitcase in the car. I mean really, who forgets their suitcase when they go on vacation? I mean, if you did that, you might have to stop at Wal-Mart and get some much needed supplies. Not that we did that, I'm just speculating what would we do if such an event actually happened.

Even if we did go out of town...without our luggage, we sure wouldn't found ourselves in dire need of tires over two hundred miles from home, would we? I am after all am responsible for the well being of the car..I would NEVER have let ourselves go a couple of hundred miles without checking the tires first. So, because of that we did NOT lay almost $750 on a set of four tires during our vacation...that we didn't really go on...without our luggage.

I did NOT enjoy a glorious night with Sneaky Mama without the deductions at a scenic Hill Country Bed & Breakfast. We did NOT enjoy ourselves immensely on our new set of tires as we drove home....without our luggage.

We were smart on Friday and did NOT go to the zoo. I mean, with every one else going to the zoo, we would be pretty dumb to go ourselves. The girls did not have a chance to pint at the zebras, or laugh at the monkeys or that silliness, because we didn't go. (We didn't go with a stroller wheel overinflated and hanging out the side, tires were not a problem at all for me this week).

Finally, as we stayed home all week, we did NOT go to my nephew's fifth birthday party. We did NOT have a great time..um...since we didn't go. (But if we would've gone, you can damn well believe we would've brought our luggage.)

I hope your week wasn't as uneventful as ours.


---Lane

First 5-Dealing With Generation "I Don't Give A Damn!"

You know...there was a time when I was a kid. Really, promise. I know that I did a lot of dumb things in my misspent youth. But, this batch of kids are about to drive me absolutely NUTS!! So, in (dis)-honor to some of the future leaders of our society, I have a First 5 List.


First 5 Things That Piss Me Off About Teenagers Today

5. The Rolled Eyes-If you have never had anyone roll their eyes at you, it is quite a moment. You feel so validated as they tell you, nonverbally, that you are barely worthy of their time. That you are some obstacle in their way as they go on to bigger and better things....like Dairy Queen. I swear, the first time one of my girls does this to me...well, can we just imagine the end of this sentence? Suffice it to say, it will be the last time either one of them does it.


4. Loud Music-As I'm in my little SUV listening to the 'Ticket', a sports talk show, as my beautiful daughters are listening to Max and Ruby, I can't say how grateful I am that some loser in a sports car that his daddy bought him is 'letting' us listen to his music as he pulls up behind us. He rolls down his windows (even in winter, folks) and lets the soothing vibes of his Rated R Rap fill our air space. To think, if I put my SUV in reverse and floored it, I would get the ticket.

3. Conforming to Nonconformity-Usually shown in the female of the species (like the eye rolling.) They dare to wear the most outlandish garb as a way to express themselves....as long as some one else is wearing the exact thing. Weird makeup, cut off jeans on top of spandex, with leg rollers from 1987? "Sure, as long as Tracy is wearing them too." AAAaaarrgghhhh!!! By the way, if you're wondering what creature has the worst fashion sense, it is by far a 7th grade girl. They'll wear anything with anything. (15 years of experience says I'm right)


2. Sagging Jeans-Okay, seriously, it doesn't look cool. I mean hell, every two steps they got to pull their pants up. I want to say, "Hey, Tupac! There's a little invention we came up with that'll keep you from having to pull your pants up...it's called a BELT!! You know, it's the long, brown thing that you're Dad should've used on your ass quite a bit more. In prison, it meant that the dudes with their with their asses hanging out were looking for love. In the outside world, it means my eyes are going to get assaulted by the scenes of having to unconsciously see other people's underwear. Even when their underwear is clean it feels like eye rape.


1. Simple Disrespect-Sure, we had a few in our classes that cared little about what any adult said. Usually these guys wound up in jail, shot, or working the night shift at Whataburger. But, boys and girls, the numbers have exponentially grown. Now, we have quadruple the number that truly don't give a shit what we say, what we think, or how we feel. I know I sound like an old codger, but it can be truly depressing to watch a guy/girl basically call a teacher a 'Bitch' (actually Fucking Bitch), play the race card when all the teacher wanted was them to was do their work, threaten to stab the teacher in the arm with a pencil if they didn't give them their binder back (it had some pretty bad stuff on the cover), or tell a teacher that they will run his/her class, or a thousand other things...most of which I have experienced or heard second hand. It is truly painful to deal with.


I hope you enjoyed the rant about the younger generation. If they are reading this, I hope that they understand that this is constructive criticism and they can use this as a way to improve and become successful beacons of society. If they think I'm off my rocker and they think that the thug life is the way to go, then I just have one thing to say as they embark on their career. No, I don't think I want a hot apple pie to go with my Big Mac.

NOT ME-SPRING BREAK ADDITION

Hello, Not Me aficionados. I hope that you all join the blog carnival that is Mckmama's NOT ME MONDAY.

I am here to tell you a tale of a very uneventful week that did not happen. As all of us in the education business did not look with expectant eyes toward the end of the week, I did not secretly hope for rain. Rain came, and unfortunately, it rained out my tennis match last Thursday. I did not wish this to happen. In fact, I hated the fact that I had an entire night without adolescent type children wired on Red Bull or Mountain Dew.

I have started to really take this whole be an adult thing in stride. I have not failed in any of the ways to show this. In fact I did not screech an obscenity that echoed through the household as my beloved Aggies blew a twenty two point lead to lose to Texas Tech . Tech? Geez, that's NOT like losing to Lubbock High School's JV. Anyways, I am too mature a person to allow a mere sporting event to take my joy away and cause me to curse while my beloved children sleep snugly in their beds. Nope, far too much of an adult to get on the ESPN website and type all the words I was thinking for a more global audience than my nuclear family.

In the end, I did not breathe a sigh of relief as my Aggies get to get pounded in a few days in the NCAA tourney.

I did not watch my little girl, Itty Bitty get upset with my darling Jill. It seems that Itty Bitty doesn't just get mad, she gets even. So, as she did not get thrown out of the chair by Jill after giving Jill an unsolicited and slightly vicious headbutt, Itty Bitty did not grab the precious remote control, ltake two steps away from the chair and heave it. Jill never noticed it, I did. I did not laugh at the hilarity.

I did not enjoy Sunday as we spent some more at my inlaws household. We did not enjoy some great hamburgers, hot dogs, and cake. I did not forget to wear a belt and I did not wear some pants that were too big for me. I did not look like a sagging teenager for the entire four hours we were there. (Incidentally, how in the hell is that comfortable or even cool? Probably will be a post in the future.)

I did not enjoy a quiet evening with Sneaky Momma on Sunday where we did not do anything. It was not good. I do not think that the designated hitter is a good thing in the MLB.

I do not know why I put that last line in there. I am not too lazy to put the cursor back up there to delete it off. I do not know why I wasted three lines on this rant.

Do not look for any new 'features' for this blog as Sneaky Daddy is afraid of change. Do not look for a wildly incendiary First Five Friday as I puss out and not mention the First 5 things that piss me off about the youth of this nation.

Sneaky

----Lane

First 5 Friday-Back Again!!

On this wondrous Friday the 13th, I come again to give you lists of a personal, educational, and nonsensical variety. In some cases I give you all three. Today, I will try to climb a huge mountain and put myself out there in a double First 5 List to catch up from last week's sabbatical.

Mainly, I will tell you another person's First 5 television shows. Some of you are fans of the blog, Sneaky Momma. Some of you have even hit her new sister site, Sneaky Momma Blog Design. Today, I will try to take on writing a list for my beautiful wife, Jill. In doing this, I will solemnly swear not to ask her about her opinions on any of these subjects until I have posted permanently. These are totally my perception of her.


Sneaky Momma's Favorite Current TV Shows


5. The Biggest Loser-Jill loves the great underdog story. If you don't buy this, she was sort of into the last two Super Bowls because of the underdog story lines of the Cardinals and the Giants. This show is a motivating show as you watch others try to defeat their demons. I enjoy this show eating a huge can of BBQ flavored Pringles.


4. Desperate Housewives-Used to be one of the more intriguing shows out there. A few housewives that were amoral while they acted pure and innocent (Well maybe not Edie so much on the pureness). Jill loves the humor and, shall we say, creative story lines. In my opinion, this show has jumped the shark more times than any show that didn't have Ted McKinley starring in it. I will say though, this year's episode with the handyman was pure gold.


3. Ugly Betty-A great storyline of a very pleasant young lady working in one of the more shallow industries in America, a beauty magazine. As the seasons roll by, you can see her charming, wholesome, caring, and moral background affecting her surroundings. If you look really closely, you can see her change as well. I myself find it rivetting at times and painful at others. It's kind of like working out, I really don't like to start, but once I do, I can't stop.


2. The Bachelor-Notice, I didn't not say Bachellorette. She likes this show because of the romance and great scenes of territories or places the action takes place. She, like I, also like the train wreck atmosphere of it as well. I also at this point will go ahead and insert the usual, "Jason is a tool," sentence here. In the Bachellorette, the conflicts aren't nearly as entertaining.


1. Grey's Anatomy-Quite possibly her favorite show of all time. For the one of you that has just awaken from a coma and has never heard of this show, it is another ER show that is wilder, more soap operaish, and focuses more on the relationships than any other.

In our house, the timer is always set and the eyes are glued as much as possible with two kids under the age of forty months running around. Heaven help you if you are in a phone conversation with her during this time, because all of a sudden, her side will go quiet and you'll be talking to absolutely nobody. (I understand and get this necessity because I do the same thing in all Aggies, Spurs, and Cowboy games that are not blowouts). My take on the show is simply this, Meredith pisses me off. Izzy pisses me off. Christina pisses me off. George is a eunich. Derek is okay, and I have to admit I like Mark even though he is a manwhore. The rest are like scenery, but I'm glad they sent Addison away to Private Practice because she...yep, you guessed it, pisses me off.


Now as a TRUE test, My baby's FIRST 5 All Time Movies...as totally guessed by me.


5. My Big Fat Greek Wedding-Our first (I think, geez, I should know this, I hope she doesn't read this) movie we watched together. If nothing else the significance of this will always give this movie a soft spot in her heart. I know she is totallythankful that it wan't 'Gods and Generals' that we watched first.


4. The Good Girl-I love it, too. I may be putting this one a little high and heck may not even be on the list, but it is a great story that is painful but intriguing to watch. Jennifer Anniston plays a small town thirtyish girl stuck in a rut in her life. She's married, but feels trapped and has an affair with a MUCH younger boy.

3. Sabrina-For a chick flick, not bad. This was one of many movies that I had to watch as pennance for taking her to see, God's and Generals. Quote from my honey that day, "Intermission? What movie has an intermission?"


2. PS I Love You-A guy dies but sends his girlfriend on a few adventures with cleverly written and properly spaced notes that he prewrote. Sad, Disturbing, and Good. Geez, I hate to admit I like these chickflicks!! As I am outing myself as a chick flick connoisseur, I might as well admit to watching the Notebook, Love Actually, and Down To You.


1. Little Women-This one was tough to get through as my previously mentioned pennance caused me to watch this movie as well. I wish I could tell you more about it, but I'm repressing all of that 'quality time' I had suffering through this. Sorry. (Hey, it would be unnatural for me to like all of her movies, wouldn't it?) I know she wants the DVD as her VHS tape is old and overused. God help me when she gets it.


I hope you enjoyed a little walk down 'Lane's Memory' as regarding the one we call Sneaky Momma. Tune in next week when I hope to have something that probably won't get me in trouble.

---Lane

Writing Assignment From Mama Katt-My Last Moments With Granddaddy Lee

Mama Katt has a great activity for all writers. I have enjoyed it immensly over the past couple of months. Please stop by and enjoy the fun.

The Prompts for this week:

1.) Discuss an intense game of Pictionary that you spent most of Saturday night arguing with your family about, only to log in to your email account two days later to find 35 emails between said family regarding aformentioned game and rules.

No can do...me no play pictionary.

2.) Tell about a time you hurt somebody that still bothers you to this day.

I didn't even want to think through this one...if I have successfully repressed it, I don't want to revisit it.

3.) The one that got away....spill it.

The one I caught was a lot more fun to live and tell about.

4.) What inspired you? Write about a time when you were impassioned to write.
(writingfix.com)

I was definitely inspired to write a piece last week of historical fiction on the anniversary of the Alamo. You can read it if you're into that stuff here.


5.) What happened in the last year? Write about something you can do now that you couldn't do a year ago. (writingfix.com)

Pick up literal pieces of shit without throwing up...and look at puke with some amount of interest. Not sure this is something anyone would want me to elaborate on.

6.) Write about the event that was the end of your childhood.

December 24, 1987, 10:30AM

At the time I was seventeen and living high on the hog as a senior in high school. I had been driving for well over a year and had a sort of conditional independence. Basically, what this means is that my driving was approved on the condition I didn't act like a fool. The eighties were in full swing, with big hair, jams, rolled up jeans (cavaricis anyone?), and Boston on the radio.

My life up to that point was making it through the week so I could play some sport on the weekend..football, basketball, tennis...whatever the season was. I had the usual crushes and the unusual social awkwardness that accompanies the teenage years.

Then, in September 1987, my Grandfather was diagnosed with cancer.

My grandparents were the babysitters growing up. We knew them as well as we knew our parents. They took us to church, they cooked our meals, they lived a hundred yards away, they were the perfect and ideal grandparents. My grandfather falling ill with prostate cancer destroyed my young world. Now, my weekends were spent helping to take care of him and not trolling down main street in my beat up pickup truck honking and yelling at other morons my age. Does this sound incredibly shallow and selfish? Welcome to me age 17.

In my own stupor of what I was missing, I never really understood the pain my mom was going through as she watched her dad fade away before her eyes. I never noticed my Grandma go through the slow, painful loss of her husband of 60 years. Nope, all there was in my pea brain was a suppressed annoyance that my Grandfather was taking away weekends during my senior year that I would not get back.

So, it was on Thursday, Christmas Eve morning that I awoke and my grandparent's house. I had agreed to help watch Granddaddy on a non weekend for two reasons....okay really three. First of all, my parents and Grandma were beat. Granddaddy could do nothing by himself and Grandma at 103 pounds and 80 years old could not lift the 200 pound man by herself. So, someone had to be on hand to help. Secondly, it was a non school night. Thirdly, I had began to get it.

This time was not meant for me to run around like the others. No, God had given me this time to be there with Granddaddy..for Granddaddy. This man that was like my second dad was almost gone mentally and physically. This was life...not the pseudo life in halls of the high school...but the real life that somehow makes all your other 'activities' trivial and unimportant.

At 10:30, Christmas Eve, my Grandma yelled for me. I came in and Granddaddy's eyes were opened unnaturally wide and I heard a long breath escape his body. As I moved his arms, his limbs were not stiff but fluid and mobile. As my Grandma and I started some sort of emergency respiration, which to be honest we both didn't put our best effort in, (he would've never forgiven us if we'd brought him back) my granddaddy... Lee... died.

Funerals and Christmas never mix, but seem to go hand in hand as a part of my family's existence as I would find out years later. I wish I could say I remember all of the final moments that Granddaddy and I had, but the moments are few. I remember reading one of his final notes to me and my brother after he died that said something along the lines of "Integrity and honor are worth more than any material thing in this life." In his last days, he knew that he would be absent in our formative adult years. The years that would mold, break, and remake us would be without his wise guidance.

As I wandered aimlessly through that last semester of high school and four plus years of college, I knew that I would never look upon my life again in the same way. That moment where I saw death flash behind the eyes of a man that was very dear to me, let me know that life is fleeting...temporary.

Childhood for me ended at that point.

----Lane

NOT ME MONDAY-The Ecletic Addition

Here I am...Not meing again, thanks to the wondrous sponsor or this first of the week activity, Mckmama.

Itty Bitty did NOT get a pair of my boxers and wear it like a serape. She did NOT look like a cooler version of Clint Eastwood in the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. (She made sure that no photographic evidence would be displayed of this.)

Addsy did NOT show off her vocabulary which is expanding exponentially almost every day. She did NOT tell my parents in laws that "I am playing with my best friend sister Itty Bitty" and that something that Jill made was "very tasty". Her very interesting and sometimes quite advanced vocabulary does NOT amaze me in the slightest.

My cat, P-nut, has NOT become a strictly inside cat despite my wife's best intenitons. Saturday morning on my sleep in day, he did NOT use my picky toe as a honing post when I made the mistake of accidentally kicking him in bed.

Well, we did NOT at all play tennis on Sunday. We did NOT see the kids run all over the place and play 'dodge the tennis ball as Jill and I hit the balls not only between the lines but between the kids. We did NOT all have an enjoyable time.

Thanks for NOT reading this and I hope to NOT read some of your NOT mes this week.

-----Lane

Friday Special Tribute-'Remember The Alamo!'

Note: I feel the need to explain myself. This is a special tribute for this site and not the usual material. I chose this special tribute simply because this day is the 173rd anniversary of the Battle of the Alamo. This battle is one that I have been drawn to since I was able to read, so I felt the need to write about it. What is going to follow is historical fiction. The events of the day may or may not exactly coincide with what I have written. This is simply how I see it going down through the eyes of the ones living it. Even though I toned it down and paraphrased it, this post will still be a bit on the long side. I will truly understand if this is not your cup of tea and you decide to skip on by it.

However, this was something I felt the need to write. For those that want to wade through my attempt at historical fiction, I hope it was worth the time you invested. First Five Friday will be back next week.

Thank you,

---Lane

March 6, 1836, approximately 5:30AM

For almost the twelfth straight hour, silence was the only thing hitting the Alamo. The Mexican guns had taken time off for reasons unknown. The men of the fort had many ideas as to why. "They're runnin' out of ammo." "They're takin' a long siesta." Probably the one that was the most ominous...and probably the most true was "This here is the calm before the storm."

As the small Texan force waited out their final hours, outside the gates three thousand men were moving silently into position for the final attack. Homemade ladders were seen here and there scattered throughout the lines as the men tried to quietly assemble for a surprise attack. As the Texans lay sleeping, the Mexican soldiers began to prepare for the Alamo defenders' ultimate demise.

"Viva Santa Anna!!" A Mexican soldier suddenly screamed...obviously overwhelmed by the moment and the answer, "VIVA SANTA ANNA", spread throughout the lines. The commander, Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna cursed.

So much for a surprise attack.

The soldiers ran toward the walls as the defenders sluggishly reported to their posts. The commander of the Alamo, Colonel William Barrett Travis, rushed to his north wall post. One look immediately told him that this was not a probing attack, but the main one. Months before, Travis had left his wife and young baby boy in South Carolina. A couple of weeks before he had defiantly answered Santa Anna's surrender demand with a cannon shot. Days before he had asked all the soldiers if they were willing to die with him. Now, it looked like this might be that moment.

Outside, in front of the chapel, former Tennessee Senator David Crockett and his Tennessee Volunteers were dropping soldiers left and right defending the small area between the main plaza and the church. This area was known as the palisade. The Mexican soldiers had tried to keep a respectful distance from the sharpshooters, but the accuracy of the defenders was deadly. However, Crockett looked honestly at the situation that was developing. Years of political battles and even Indian wars hadn't prepared him for this type of conflict. Nope, he never counted on this type of odds. Davey Crockett had come to Texas to become President of Texas. He'd come to Texas to live. Each time a fellow Texan or Tennessean fell, the odds went down a little more.

Inside the chapel, Susannah Dickinson could hear the battle raging on the outside. It seemed to her to be like a hellish thunderstorm. Twice it seemed that the storm died down. The thunder of the cannons diminished and the sounds of men's shouts slowed. Then, without warning the din would increase again. She looked at her baby girl, Angelina, and held her tightly. All she and Maria Esparza could do is wait with the kids and see what happens.

Travis had seen his men fight back this force for over twelve days. He had just seen them hold off two charges valiently. His heart felt warmness at the effort and the bravery they had shown, even though his brain told him they couldn't hold out forever. As he watched the Mexicans line up for the third charge, he grimly took hold of his shotgun. In their panic, two columns of soldiers collapsed into each other at the base of the north wall where Travis held steady.

Unfortunately, the north wall also had the only hole the Mexican cannon were able to create in the entire fort during their eleven days of shelling the Alamo. As Travis shot into the mass of soldiers down below him, he suddenly and calmly knew that this was it. He and the few men he had would not be able to stem the tide of this many soldiers. He thought quickly to his boy...the lasting picture of his baby's smiling face engulfed him as a sharp pain briefly hit his head just above his temple....and then blackness.

The Mexican Army poured through the north wall like a flood. The Texans still manning cannons turned the barrels inward and tried to fill the breach with as many dead soldiers as possible. Soon, the few left on the walls were picked off or overwhelmed from behind. Within minutes all walls of the plaza were absent of Texan defenders. Chaos reigned.

The Alamo men, still left in the plaza, forted up in the long barracks along the walls. As the Mexican soldiers invaded room after room, each small battle would leave almost a squad of Mexican soldiers dead with the eight or nine Texans in each room. Finally, a Mexican Sargeant ordered a couple of the cannons off the walls to blast open the remaining barracks. Soon, only dead or dying Texans remained in the plaza of the Alamo.

Crockett and his men barricaded the entrance from the palisade to the main plaza. He looked around at his thirty men. Some had been with him since they left Tennessee. Some had just vacated the plaza and were fighting tooth and nail for survival. Crockett remembered that Travis thought that they'd sell their lives dearly. At the time it seemed a bit over dramatic, but now, Crockett thought, they'd done just that. As the men under his command were slowly picked off, what was left retreated into an area just outside the church. They were penned down now with only six remaining, as they waited for the final rush. As Crockett looked around, it looked like the whole world was garbed in Mexican soldier . "No way we can fight'em all." he reasoned. Then a thought came to him. "Hell, what do we got to lose?" He slowly lifted his hands skyward as the men with him followed suit. The squad of Mexican soldiers roughly disarmed them, but pulled them away from the action.

In the chapel, the wounded were attacked ruthlessly as the blood lust began to rage wild throughout the Mexican Army. Texans, lying on cots were used as pin cushions for bayonets as the ruthless soldados showed no mercy for the lame and injured. A solitary figure, in his own room befitting his rank, waited for the end...almost gladly. James Bowie had come down with tuberculosis. He was a living legend, but in the greatest fight of his life, he could play no part. He just was laying waiting for the inevitable. Armed with his famous knife and a couple of dueling pistols, Bowie waited as the sounds of battle grew steadily closer. Soon, he thought wistfully, he would no longer be a 'living legend'.

Susannah Dickinson knew something was horribly wrong as the cannons stopped firing. The screams began to be intense as the staccato of the small arms fire was almost constant and nearing her hideaway. Then, suddenly, she saw her husband Almeron. He had slipped back to see her one last time. "Great God, Sue!!" He exclaimed, "The Mexicans are inside our walls!! If they spare you, save our child!!" Then he was gone. The tears fell down her face as she cradled Angelina. "Only a little longer." She kept whispering into the ears of her crying child. Maria Esparza and Susannah shared a look. She could hear as Bowie's door was broken down a couple of rooms away. Screams pierced the air as the ruckus could be heard above the clamor outside.

Almeron Dickinson, Gregorio Esparza, and James Bonham had barricaded themselves near the entrance of the church. As the Mexican army advanced they fired the big eighteen pound cannon bowling over half a dozen. Gregorio tried not to look into the eyes of his former countrymen advancing as he fired his rifle. His brother was among this throng of soldiers. This was going to be hard enough, he thought, without seeing Francisco's face. The soldiers charged over the barricade overwhelming the three remaining defenders. Dickinson saw a gleam of bayonet near his eye as he fired his rifle one last time. Within a few frantic moments it was over. The three lay partially covered with almost a dozen soldiers. Even though the Mexican Soldiers would continue firing for another ten minutes, the resistance was over. The Alamo had fallen.

Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna viewed the carnage stoically. He knew that he was signing the death warrant of many of his men with a full frontal attack. But, it mattered not. The only way to salvage his pride from the insult of these pirates was blood. His men, theirs, either or both would do. General Castrillon had just approached him with a ridiculous claim. It seemed that they had captured seven Notre Americanos. Santa Anna smiled in exasperation as he said, "Does the meaning of the red flag escape you, my dear General? It means no quarter...no prisoners."

"His Excellency, one of the prisoners is Senator Crockett."

Santa Anna paused at this wonderful bit of irony. Then he walked past Castrillon to where the seven prisoners stood by themselves awaiting his judgment. A small smile fell on his lips as Santa Anna gazed at the man with the funny coonskin hat. The two locked eyes. Between the two of them the message was passed silently. Crockett gave Santa Anna a grim smile back. "Shit," Crockett breathed as Santa Anna turned to the nearest soldiers.

"Matelos!" Gunshots filled the plaza one last time as the seven Texans were extinguished.

Susannah Dickinson and Angelina had met briefly with Santa Anna. It gave her no pleasure, but to save the life of her child, she was willing to humor the dictator. She listened as emotionless as she could, as Santa Anna detailed the message she would take to Sam Houston and anyone else that would listen. It was simply, 'Leave or die.' She was even was somehow able to keep her temper as the beast offered to adopt Angelina. She knew that her child's life depended on her actions. Finally, after accepting an offer from El Presidente of a horse, Susannah and her child were then escorted out.

As she and Angelina left the fort, Susannah noticed the fires burning outside the plaza. She wept openly as she led the horse given to her by the Mexican Army out of the fort. The bodies of those left to be burned lie haphazardly all over the fort usually surrounded by two or three soldiers of Santa Anna's army. She saw Crockett and his weird coonskin hat nearby. The young lawyer Daniel Cloud was barely recognizable as he lay several yards from opening to the plaza. More and more friends and acquaintances she saw as she walked by. The scene was so surreal her brain could not fit it all inside. These men, hours before, were talking, had thought. Almeron, also, she thought as a ragged wave of sadness caught her again. When she looked up again, she saw Maria with a Mexican Soldier hoisting Gregorio's body into a wagon just outside the mission. "That must be Francisco." She thought. This soldier was exceedingly careful with the body of Gregorio, unlike the other faceless men of Santa Anna's army. Santa Anna must've shown a small measure of mercy and let them bury Gregorio, she mused.

At this, Susannah was reminded her of what fate awaited her husband's body. His and the Texans bodies would not be buried in the cemetery in San Antonio. No, Almeron was to be burned along with the other remaining defenders on a funeral pyre. He was not to have a Christian burial.

As she finally sat sideways on the pony, she trotted away from the stench of gunpowder, smoke, and death that blasphemed this mission. Angelina was abnormally quiet as the two of them rode up a hil overlooking the Alamo. Susannah turned around to gaze at the mission one last time. The soldiers were still working at burying the dead, burning the enemy, and treating their wounded. She wanted this scene to be burned into her head forever. She wanted to remember what occured here for the rest of her life.

She wanted to remember the Alamo.



-----Lane

Mama Kat's Assignment-Reality Limericks

My assignment that I chose to accept from the pages of Mama Kat were the Limericks. But, since regular limericks I had heard always start like 'There once was a young man from Pawtucket.', I chose a nicer (slightly) route. I would write of reality shows that intrigue me. So, without further adieu, Reality Limericks for your viewing pleasure. Please stop by, Mama Kat's to play her game.


Bachelor Limericks

There once was a dude named Jason
who enjoyed all the girls he was chasin'.
But, he played the fool and acted like a tool
He was unaware of the wrath he was facin'.

There once was a girl named Mel.
For a prick she did fell.
But he chose another after sayin' he loved her
Now she wishes he would go to Hell.

Biggest Loser Limericks
There once was a rather cool show on TV
who showed people in obesity.
We saw their weight fall off thats great,
With just a little risk to their sanity.

But then the show took another direction
it seemed like it had greater deception.
The rules changed much, just to mess with and such,
The poor schmucks who gave perspiration.

Top Chef Limerick

There once was a guy named Tom,
who once learned to cook from his mom.
Now he thinks he knows, 'cause his dishes don't blow
how to judge food to tell whether it bombed.

Rock of Love

There was a young lad named Bret,
who knew girls that were hard to get.
So, he sang songs, smoked a few bongs,
and now with his harem he's all set.

----Lane

Not Me Monday-A Week NOT In Review

Thanks to McKmama for sponsoring such a wonderful weekly event that no matter how tired I am, I cannot help but participate.

Well, the tennis season did NOT start this last week. But, fortunately since it is tennis, I did NOT get home every night close to seven. I did NOT find time to tend to the twin terror of destruction that are known as Addsy and Itty Bitty. They were NOT cute at all this week in all sorts of different ways.

Addsy constantly reminding us of forgotten things. "I think we forgot KK!!" This was NOT one of many forgotten reminders that she sent our way.

Itty Bitty did NOT get into the act by deciding to drop trou...or in this case...diaper after every wet or dirty diaper. She did NOT after some negligence on my part drop a log that a poodle would've needed two tries to jump over on our kitchen floor.

Sunday was NOT a wonderful family day at my 'outlaw's' house as we had NO chance to fellowship, play basketball, and watch the kids run ragged in the huge back yard. For some reason, we DID NOT decide to have a birthday cake without a birthday.

I hope your NOT MES were Memorable...thanks again, Mckmama.


-----Lane

PS: Programming note, First 5 Friday will be replaced by a sort of Tribute for this week only. I hope that you have a chance to check it out.