A Traveling Family

I hail from a clan. Our family was organized by our grandmothers. The torch was passed to our parents who called often when we lived away and had their feelings bruised when they didn’t get information first hand. Now, we have the task of keeping the fam informed and corralling the crew. Around the Christmas table last year, the gang voted to take a family vacation to California to visit our son, Caleb, who is far flung on the west coast.

There were milestone birthdays on the calendar this year and it was a good year to go. The much older sister started the campaign. The niece set up a group text for “Family Vacay”. I researched accommodations and made flight reservations.  I found a vacation rental by owner where we could have together time and personal space. We counted the days and tossed in text of how we would like to spend our time.

We made a visit to see Mickey Mouse and the 18 year old got her ears. The 40 year was king of the Uber app and saw a new release movie and took the boys to a LA Dodgers baseball game. The 35 year old was all in for the beach scene, and was even ok when the temperature dropped to mid 60s because that meant no guilt for a lazy day that we tried to put on swimsuits but sweats felt better. The 30 year old played tour guide for his family from Oklahoma. He made sure we dined at the Studio City restaurant where he works.

Hubby, Doug, didn’t have a major birthday but he took some of us to the prestigious Magic Castle for shows and dinner. Our newest family member, nephew-in-law, voted for an excursion to Catalina Island. The niece-in-law made time to do some shopping in the “ can’t believe how big this mall is!” mall. Bro-in-law loves to drive and explore, and would take off and come back with a story. Sister did what she does best, went grocery shopping and kept in the kitchen filling the table with food for us to sit down and eat, family style.

There was a little something for everyone. A nice balance of tourist time and down time. The week was long enough for us to make some major memories but short enough to think it went by too quickly.

I wasn’t in charge. I waited for someone else to announce leave times and what we were doing. We laughed, and discussed, and were a family.

Maybe it’s a bit sentimental, but we all need to make memories while we can. And remember if you can always make a group tour your traveling family. We are a traveling clan, Good to Go.

Show Me

I had the opportunity to be a Fearless Leader for a group of travelers from the St. Louis area. They were on a tour called “Pioneer Woman’s Mercantile”. It was a three-day trip and I was engaged as their step-on guide and tour manager.  You know what surprised me? They really didn’t know that much about Oklahoma. 
 

We spent Day 1 in Claremore, and of course, it was important for them to understand about “Indian Territory” because all of us Okies know there was quite a bit of history left out of the books. I enjoy talking about the number of tribes that call Oklahoma home (39) and it always shocks visitors at the number of Indian reservations (0). (There are areas that are recognized by the federal government as reservations, but it is original land that tribes bought back, not given by the US government) I try to describe what the Indian removal really looked like, and I do as much as I can to erase Hollywood imagery. After a short lesson on the Cherokees and the clan system, and how marriage and slave ownership created Cherokees that had nothing to do with blood, they were ready to meet the Cherokee Kid.

Claremore has a wonderful memorial to Will Rogers, and it is perfect for all ages. It’s hard to believe that Will Rogers has been dead for 83 years; his quotes and wisdom still live on. We enjoyed the docent, Andy Hogue, as he portrayed Rogers and highlighted his life. He twirled a rope and poked fun of government in the words of Will and we realized how some things just don’t change. Supper was at The Hammett House for chicken fried steak, Oklahoma’s state meal. There didn’t seem to be anyone on the bus that knew if Missouri had a state meal.

Day 2 took us to Bartlesville. We were welcomed by the Chamber and a volunteer tooted the whistle of the steam train locomotive that they have worked to restore and allow anyone to climb aboard. We dipped into some of the rich oil history at the Phillips 66 Museum before making our way to Woolaroc. Frank Phillip’s impressive collection is huge and worth the drive to see.

 We drove back to Pawhuska and I took the opportunity to debunk the “August in Osage County” image that the movie gave to this area. This was the focal point of their trip, and The Pioneer Woman, Ree Drummond, has brought this small town back to life with her investment in her community. I tried to describe how the Indian removal, the discovery of oil and gas and the Oklahoma land run all resulted in the Osage Indians being the wealthiest people on earth per capita in the 1920’s. As early as 1886, a Drummond has been in the mercantile business in Pawhuska. Ree is just following in the family footsteps.

Day 3 of the tour brought us down part of Rt. 66 to visit our corner of the state. Grand Lake’s size always draws comments. They were familiar with Lake of the Ozarks and Tablerock, but didn’t really know what lay just beyond the state line. The “Show Me” State now knows a bit more about the “Sooner” State.

I Saw the King

I was Livin’ It Up last Saturday night in Tulsa. It was Pure Country, as the Oklahoma Heartland was filled with music lovers going One Step at a Time to fill the BOK Center two nights in a row for an audience with the King. The King of Country Music,  George Strait was Something Special  as always. Understand, I’m a big George fan, it is Love Without End, Amen. My Lovesick Blues started way back in the early 1980’s, at a tiny bar in Stillwater, Oklahoma.

All My Ex’s Live in Texas now, but he took me to the Kalidescope Disco to hear some cowboy that was out of the Blue, Clear Sky. Not exactly, but this New Kid in Town  only had one recorded song, Unwound. This good looking, clean cut, Wrangler wearing cowboy from Deep in the Heart of Texas, kept the crowd of about 100 boot scootin’ and Honky Tonk Crazy. His band probably said, We Really Shouldn’t Be Doing This, because I’m sure they expected a much bigger gate. 

But they must have decided  let’s Give It All We Got Tonight, because we were all Here For A Good Time. I’m not sure where his next show was, maybe Amarillo By Morning, but there in The Middle of Nowhere, Where the Sidewalk Ends, and I knew It was Love.

My girlfriends and I would hit The Road Less Traveled to Somewhere Down in Texas, or they’d Take Me Back to Tulsa for another show and more of that western swing sound. The quiet cowboy just sang, Easy Come, Easy Go, no smoke and flash for this Ace In the Hole band. One memorable concert, I think it was in the Chill of An Early Fall around 1984 or so, a gang of us gals went to see George Strait. We were waiting on the show to start, and a real tall guy walked by us, REAL tall. We couldn’t help but comment on him. Later in during the show, I decided I wanted to go down in front of the stage to take a picture. I should have just wished for Ocean Front Property!

The people were packed and my short self was just being Carried Away smashed between belt buckles and armpits. I weaseled my way closer, but thought,  I Can’t See Texas From Here. I was Heartbroke. And stuck in the crowd. Then I heard a voice ask if I wanted him to put me on his shoulders to see, yep, it was The Big One. Maybe it was the Famous Last Words of a Fool, but I said, “Heck yeah!” and She Let Herself Go. It was The Best Day for me, sitting on the King of the Mountain, head, shoulders, and hiney above the multitude, eye level with George. I looked back at my gal pals and The Chair where I was supposed to be, they couldn’t believe it. But You Know Me Better Than That,  I Cross My Heart,  It’s True. 

We thought The Cowboy Rides Away tour would be the final. So when niece Jena Beth called and said, George is coming! Check Yes or No! Of course I said, Write This Down, and gave her my credit card. And we squealed Oooooh, Baby, the name she gave George before she could say Aunt Patti. I wore my 35 year old concert T-shirt, which was older than most of the ticket holders.

He sang, only stopping to smile, but with 60 No.1 singles, he has a lot to chose from. Too many  tunes to list, that’s why I included titles in this article.  The Troubadour is undeniable King of Country Music and even after 30 years, he still makes those Wranglers look good. (Sorry, it’s A Fire I Can’t Put Out, call The Fireman!)