• Last day of _summer_, kids back in school tomorrow. I happen to fly to NYC tomorrow as well. The kids are trying to make the most of the day #
• My goal is to be the premier provider of imaginary expertise! #
• Need clean overalls for the trip to NY tomorrow. I got BBQ sauce on the bib Saturday. Why does the dry cleaner look at me odd? #
• I think I would go take a nap, if I didn't have a meeting in 25 minutes. #
• Headed to NYC this morning. I got my Levi Garrett packed, amongst other things. Tracey said she was doing me a favor, and hid my overalls! #
• I am looking to read "The Godly Man's Picture" by Thomas Watson over the course of this trip to NYC. http://twitpic.com/f7qk8 #
• RT @willathome @robhines may you never forget. http://twitpic.com/ewuf2 #
• I made it. Couldn't upgrade my seat, full plane. Attempting to unfold myself now. I despise coach airline seats. #
• Meeting friends from EVE for the first time in person. Pretty cool! #
• Eating dinner with "Jake Rockwel" and "Colonel Sharp". http://twitpic.com/fa76o #
• Farmers Market in NY this morning. http://twitpic.com/fbmcu #
• RT @jdsharp RT @ds "Good news, Everyone! Cash for Clunkers is over, and my wife didn't trade me in for a newer model!" #
• Tracey & I decided, from now on no more spankings in the Hines house. I know, judge us if you must. From here on, we are using a Tazor! #
• Hey hey #
• Check that out. Credit card machines in the cabs. Used to be I had to go through 4-5 in order to find one that takes Visa. Very cool. #
• Sitting at the airport, 40mins to board. Couldn't upgrade again. Preparing myself to fold and squeeze into coach. I despise coach. #
• That is awesome tasty. Need to order some for the house. http://twitpic.com/fhsk0 #
• Good morning world. It feels so good to be back home with my own monitors. Man, how I missed them! #
• My nephew Daniel celebrates his Birthday today. We are packing up and heading over to Scott & Maryann's house to celebrate with them! #
• Sitting in my brothers backyard and enjoying a beautiful morning. With water balloons! #
• Sinus issues killing me since the NYC trip, I've sent the family to church without me, and now I feel twice as bad. I dislike missing church #

• Too bad the clunker law doesn't allow us to trade in elected officials. #
• Medicare is going broke. The VA is ineffective. Give everyone government healthcare. We can have ineffective health care while we go broke! #
• Your doctor didn't order those "unnecessary" tests. His lawyer did. #
• Preparing for another day of sharing the grand vision of Identity and Information Management! Does it get any better than this? #
• Tracey is broke down across town in the storm. I am @jinksto ranch in the storm. Mustering the energy to go save my wife #
• Samantha made the first cut for the HS volleyball team! 20 of 30 were chosen tonight. #
• The engine in the car is completely busted. $4.5K to replace it. Looks like we will be a one van family for the foreseeable future. #
• Thanks to @willathome (and family) we have a replacement car for the next week or so. Thank The Lord for good friends! #
• Looking forward to the day … its the last one in this workweek. #
• How are God and Obama alike? … Neither have a birth certificate #
• How are God and Obama different? God doesn't think that he's Obama. #
• How are God and Obama different? Liberals love Obama. #
• God only asks for 10% of your money. #
• God's plan for you is actually written down for you to read. #
• Sitting at the school gym, waiting impatiently for 7:30 to see if Sam made the final cut for Volleyball this year. #
• Did not make the team. #
• Took the whole family to see G-Force 3D. Great fun, kids loved it, and I continue to be astounded by the technology. Well behaved kids too! #

Most of you will be familiar with my rural upbringing, redneck ways, and generally unsophisticated approach to life. So you should also appreciate that when I first moved to Chicago and took a management position with UBS Warburg that I was really out of my element. My peers were primarily white middle to upper class Chicago Suburbanites with a good college education and an appreciation for finer things in life; while I had barely stayed awake long enough to graduate from a Mississippi Public High School, served a few years in the Army National Guard, many more enlisted in the US Navy, and the closest I came to going to college was driving over to the Mississippi State University pool on a hot summer afternoon.

I hadn’t been in the new position more than a month when my boss called me in and explained that I was to travel to California and beat a large, well known software company about the head and shoulders due to their inability to deliver on a ten million dollar contract, which they were six months behind on and our project was subsequently five months behind. I was to either obtain a clear conviction that they would deliver in the next month and understand why they had failed to deliver up to this point, or cancel the contract and come home.

The administrative assistant put the whole travel together and was handing me a packet with everything I would need as well as debriefing me. I warranted a corporate credit card, which she assured me had no credit limit – she said she didn’t know if I could get away with it for long, but that if I took to the local Lexus dealer I could buy any car I wanted on it. She then handed me round trip, first class tickets, and membership to the airline’s Platinum Club. By the time she was done, I was pretty well convinced that I had arrived!

When my team and I stepped off the plane in California, we were met by this fellow holding one of them nameplates, with my name on it. He put us in the huge stretch limo and drove us into town where we checked into our hotel. I must tell you, that up to this point, I really believed that hotels like this one only existed as mockups in movie studios for use in James Bond movies. The suite they put me in was bigger than any house or apartment I had ever lived in!
After checking in, we traveled (via limo!) out to the company’s campus where we began to engage in the process of getting assurance of delivery in the near future. It was harder than it sounds, and we spent the balance of the day locked in battle over this contract. By then end of the day I was exhausted, and we were going to have to come back tomorrow to pick up the conversation. I was looking forward to getting back to the hotel and relaxing in style, when our opponents mentioned that they would like to take us all out and treat us to dinner.

I was poised to say no thank you, when the unspoken communication and quick glances from my team assured me that such an action would likely end in them doing violence to me. So I acquiesced and we agreed to be dropped off at the hotel long enough to freshen up and then head out with them. Upon returning to the limousine we discovered that is was filled with “administrative assistants” (that’s how they were introduced, I swear!) who were associated with the project. It was never quite clear to me precisely how they were associated, but I suspect it was something to do with encouraging customers to continue to fund projects.
Anyway, they took us out to this swank little French restaurant, set me up as the guest of honor at the head of the table (apparently having the go/no-go decision for a $10M contract comes with this sort of arduous responsibilities) and we proceeded to have a good time and order drinks. I wouldn’t pretend to lie to you here, my head was swelled up the size of a hay roll; not a hay bale, but one of them big rolls you see in the pasture.

I reckoned I had indeed arrived! If only the folks from the trailer park could see me now! Yep, I was about as puffed up and full of myself as a man could get, and I was probably even breaking new ground in the field of self satisfaction as well. As I cast my eye over the table, and considered how awesome and cool I was, the waiter made his way to me and asked what sort of appetizer I would like.

I casually reached for the menu, and after a short double take, realized the thing was written in some language I didn’t know, presumably French! As I struggled to contain shock, I cast my eye for anything that made any sort of sense whatsoever, and my attention was drawn to what appeared to be Steak TarTare and I thought, I recognize that! I’ve heard of it in movies and what not, it is clearly something fancy that folks order. So I ordered it.

Everyone at the table congratulated me on my selection, and bemoaned the fact that they did not actually order it themselves. Needless to say, I was that much more impressed with my own prowess in navigating this new culture. Drinks came out, people were laughing and having fun, and I was enjoying myself to the hilt. Eventually, everyone had an appetizer, except me. At which point, the waiter asked me if I wanted my food prepared at the table or just brought out from the kitchen. I was all about seeing the show, and encouraged him to bring me said show, table side. He brought out this huge silver tray with a couple of mounds of raw chopped steak, some bowls a fresh diced vegetables, and some eggs.

Now, most of my readers are better educated than I, and likely already know what this fabled dish actually consists of, I was utterly ignorant. When the fellow asked me what I would like, indicating the vegetable, I just told him to put it all in there. He had these two massive sporks (that is a cross between a spoon and fork for those who don’t know) that he used to crack the eggs, dish up the other ingredients, and go about mixing them all together. I was getting hungry watching, thinking that any minute he would fire up one of those cool little Bunsen burners and make me a miniature meatloaf right there at the table. As I sat there salivating at the idea, he just up and dumps all the raw mixture in the middle of my plate, stuck a stalk of celery in the top of it, and sat back all self satisfied, beaming back at me as if he had just done something good!

I might not be well educated, but it only took me a second to figure out that the raw stuff was what I had actually ordered, and everyone at the table was waiting on me to taste it and pronounce judgment! I managed to do so, and ate enough that I could claim I had eaten it without taking one bite more than absolutely necessary. I managed to finish the meal without losing it, and as the rest of the group determined they would go out for drinks, I begged off with the excuse that I needed to spend the night reviewing the contract and headed back to my hotel room. I may have arrived, but I really wasn’t so sure that the place I had arrived was where I wanted to be!

When my birth daughters (Samantha and Bethany) were relatively young, perhaps four and six years old, they managed to get into enough trouble to be grounded. I don’t remember precisely what they had done, suffice it to say that they weren’t allowed to watch TV, Movies, or anything like that for a week. It turns out that this was a pretty cool deal.

I would come home from work, we would eat dinner, and then the whole family would retire to the living room where Tracey and I would read books while the ladies played quietly with their dolls on the floor. It was classic, and peaceful. I have an abiding hatred for television and not having a TV on in the house was a great relief to me.

On the third, or fourth, evening we had been relaxing in the living room for an hour or so, and I was just bursting with pleasure over how fantastic my family is, when Samantha interrupted my reading by tapping on my leg. I finished the sentence, and looked up to see her looking at me intensely with her pointer finger held up to her lips in the universal “Shhhh” signal.

Confusion must have crossed my face, because she then pointed to the back of the house without ever ceasing to encourage me to be quiet and listen. Sure enough, I could hear the TV playing in the back of the house. I looked around and Tracey was still laying on the other couch reading her book, only Beth was missing.

So, in my favorite drill sergeant voice, I bellowed for Bethany and watched her come scuttling out of her room and down the hall to stand front and center. I asked her if she was watching TV in her room, to which she replied no. So I told her, “I can hear your TV playing, and you were in your room.”

She responded that she just happened to be in the room, and the TV just happened to be on, but she nor her dollies ever actually watched the TV … it was just on. All the while giving me her best toe shuffling act and imploring big blue eye looks to further demonstrate her innocence. I asked her how the television happened to be turned on, and she admitted nothing but maintained that she didn’t have the slightest idea how that occurred.

Casting around for some way to appropriately handle this parenting opportunity, I immediately sat straight up, planted my feet firmly on the floor, and in my most dramatic voice said, “There is only one little finger, on one little hand, on one little arm, on one little girl in the whole wide world who could have turned on that TV!”

The whole while I spoke, you could see the excitement running across her four year old face; she knew the answer to this riddle! She was so wound up that she could bare contain herself. As I demanded, “Which finger was it!?” She quickly and proudly held up her left pointer finger for my inspection.

Then, ever so slowly, it began to dawn her what had just happened. Her exuberant visage of pride and pleasure at having correctly answered the question transformed into one of horror and indignation as she transferred her gaze from my face to the offending finger that had betrayed her!

Tracey literally rolled off the couch and fell rolling with laughter on the floor; which tipped me past my ability to maintain a straight face continue on with exercise. To this day, whenever I believe Bethany might be attempting to redirect or otherwise mislead me I simply ask her, “Which finger did it?”              

• Found a place to stop in AL. Bad Wafflehouse experiance (Collin lost his meal.) Headed to the hotel to wear the kids out in the pool. #
• Up and at 'em! Last night was horrible, the accommodations left much to be desired. I miss NC so much, just want to go home. #
• Headed to MS to meet with DSS, Lawyers, ETC. I swear, next time we will just buy our kids from another country like normal Americans. #
• Kids, "We there yet? What time is it?" Tracey, "1/2 past crazy! The little one is on my nerves & the big hand is about to knock you out!":-) #
• I travelled the world, been places, seen things, met people, experianced cultures, & conclud – all I seek is either in my yard or Tommy's. #
• http://twitpic.com/c4vz9 & http://twitpic.com/c4w1s demonstrate some previous weekend fun. #
• Happy Anniversary @Jinksto! #
• Packing up and headed over to PJ and Lisa's place! #
• We are arrived! #

I got out of the US Navy at the end of the year 1999 and started a new job in Jackson Mississippi in January of 2000, where I met Tommy Jinks. Tommy and I ended up working together at the same company, and quickly determined that we were of the same disposition. Tommy was raised in the boondocks of Louisiana and enjoyed a rural upbringing, while I was raised in a trailer park in Mississippi on a rural route as well. We had both known the Brotherhood of War, enjoyed good company, and were fast becoming friends.

After a month or so of working together, we were well enough acquainted that it was common to get together on the weekend to BBQ and hang out. Tracey and I continued to maintain a house in Pensacola Florida, and on the weekend in question she had packed up the kids and headed there to take care of some maintenance, meet the renters, and ensure everything was in order, leaving me a geographic bachelor Friday through Sunday.

I arrived at work that Friday morning and was just getting settled in for the day when Tommy comes in and says, “Hey! Check out the parking lot.” I made my way over to one of the offices and looked down at the parking lot to see Tommy’s big old truck with a bass boat behind it taking up a whole row of parking spaces.

Tommy said, “I was thinking maybe we could sneak out of here at lunch today and head over to the Ross Barnet Reservoir to see how the fishing is.”

I hadn’t been fishing since moving to Jackson, but I had my rods and tackle in the truck just in case and it seemed a fantastic idea to me. So around lunch we took off up the Natchez Trace looking for a boat ramp that would get us in the water. Turns out we went further up the bank of the lake than we expected, and when we put in we were effectively at the point where the Pearl River began to create the lake.

We decided to head on up the river and check it out, ultimately we spent most of the afternoon exploring the lake, backwaters, and the river. At one point, we ended up in a backwater channel just off the river, and decided it looked like a great spot to fish. It wasn’t overly easy to get to, the center of the channel was roughly 20 feet deep and it stretched about 40 foot wide, with both banks lined with lily pads.

We didn’t actually catch anything; however, the entire time we were in there these nice sized catfish kept rolling on the surface (we call that sunning) and we spent some time discussing how nice it would be to come back to the spot one night and do some straight lining. That’s where you basically put a big weight on your line with no bobber and let the bait sit on (or just off) the bottom for the catfish to find.

We eventually packed up and headed back home before it got dark and agreed that it was a nice way to spend Friday afternoons and that we should skip work like that more often. I went on back to the house, it was pretty empty without the family, and spent a quite night with a book. I woke up the next morning and began casting around for something to do.

After cutting the grass, cleaning the garage, and various other bits of household chores, the phone rings and it’s Tommy. He mentions that he knows the family is out of town for the weekend, and wondered if I wanted to come over for lunch with Jodi and himself. Given the option of spending the rest of the day on my own, or with good food and better company, it wasn’t a hard decision to head their way.

After a fantastic bit of grilling, we were sitting on their back patio watching the grass grow and Tommy happened to ask me what I was up for next. As I was looking at his boat, I stated that, given the family was gone for the weekend, it would be a great night for me to head back to that little channel we found yesterday and spend the night straight lining for catfish. Jodi agreed that it sounded like a good idea and encouraged us to go on and make it happen.

After a little maintenance on the boat, a stop at the Gas Station slash Bait and Tackle shop for fuel and some stink bait, we were on our way. Now, it should be noted that Tommy lived south of Jackson, and the lake was north of Jackson, and the spot on the river we were headed to was a bit further north of that. So it took us a hot moment to drive all the way up there and get the boat in the water. Then we spent a bit of time casting around to get back up in the same channel we had found, but eventually we were there and all in place.

The day was just approaching dusk, and we quickly agreed that we should take advantage of the waning light to do some Bass fishing prior to setting up for the catfish. I put a spinner bait on and went to casting, and son! Let me tell you, I started snatching their lips off! It seemed like I couldn’t cast that thing without getting a hit, and every two or three casts I’d hook one.

Tommy was catching ‘em too, but his fishing got a bit impacted because I got started first I think, which meant every time I hooked one, he was a good friend and would come to the back of the boat with the net to scoop it in for me. By the time he was back at that front of the boat casting his own lure, I’d be hollering about getting another one. Nice size, 2-3 pounders too, good fights, lots of fun and adrenaline … the fishing trip that everyone hopes for when they head out to do it.

It was getting on dark, and Tommy said we should go ahead and get set up for cat fishing before we lost all the light. I reluctantly agreed, and we got the boat turned crossways in the channel, with anchors off each end to hold us in place. Then we rigged up our catfish reels and got them in the water. By that time, the sun had truly gone down and we were set to just sit back and smoke cigars while we waited on the catfish to find us.

I was still pretty pumped up about the bass though, lots of adrenaline and excitements, and I wanted some more of it. Sitting still wasn’t doing it for me. The moon had come out in its full glory, and as my eyes grew accustomed to the environment, it seemed to be bright as day. I decided that if I used a top water lure, and cast straight down the center of the channel, I could at least get a few more casts in.

So I found my jitterbug, got it tied on to the SpiderWire (a monofilament line that gives you an extremely high poundage of test for a much reduced diameter), and cast down the channel. Tommy asked me what I thought I was doing, and I explained myself. He shook his head, but didn’t really say anything else about it.

On about the third cast, I was listening to my little jitterbug swim back to the boat, pitter-patter-pitter-patter, and then suddenly there was a monstrous SPLASH! and the tip my rod slapped the side of the boat. I’m here to tell you that it was a once in a lifetime experience. I had clearly just hooked the grandpapa of all bass, and I’d be on the front page of the Bassmasters website tomorrow!

Tommy jumped up, grabbed the spotlight and net, and went to shinning it off in the direction of the splash. To no avail, there was nothing but white water and ripples where the lure had been, and I was struggling to fight the monster that swallowed my lure. I easily fought that think for five to ten minutes, it was like saltwater fishing. Over the course of the fight, Tommy and I discussed the possibilities. Whatever I hooked into was big enough to pull us off the anchor(s) twice, and multiple times it pulled all the line off the reel.

We had about decided that it was one of them huge channel catfish, probably a thirty or forty pounder by the way it was acting. I just stuck the tip of the rod straight up in the hopes of getting it to surface (I know, technically the wrong thing to do – but we wanted to see that thing!). Eventually I wore that fish out, and only just before it wore me out. It just laid down on the bottom of the channel, and I went to doing the whole strain to lift the rod up, then reel as fast as possible as I dropped it back down, then rinse and repeat.

Tommy and were both standing right at the edge of the boat, me reeling and Tommy holding the spotlight on the water where there reel was with his right hand, and the left hand holding the big net just over the edge of the boat to scope it in once it surfaced. With great expectations, we focused everything on that spot of water, and our patience was rewarded as the water broke.

Bursting out of the water, and up into the boat, was seven foot of alligator with my jitterbug hung off in the soft tissue just inside its nose! I feel back into the seat behind me and Tommy headed to the front of the boat. I managed to get one boot under the ‘gator’s chin trying to push it back out of the boat, and pulled out my knife to cut the line. Let me tell you, at that moment, I was bad regretting the decision to use SpiderWire … monofilament line don’t cut so easy. There I am, attempting to avoid either a heart attack or being savaged by the ‘gator and Tommy’s standing at the front of the boat with his arms crossed and shaking his head while he says, “Throw it back. It won’t fit in the live well!”

The line eventually cut, and the ‘gator (along with my jitterbug) sunk back into the depths of the channel. We took a moment to relax, and I had to relearn how to breath. Tommy took that spotlight and shone it around the channel, and we were easily surrounded by thirty or forty of the reptiles. Suffice it to say, we packed up our gear and high tailed it out of there!

I’ve been told, on occasion, that I am a relatively good story teller. There’s no doubt I have been blessed with the Gift of Gab; whenever the opportunity arises, I tend to have story to tell that in some way, shape, or fashion fits the situation. It has been suggested that I document these stories and perhaps even write a book.

I’m not sure that I am in the book writing class of story tellers; however, I reckon I can blog my stories as well as anyone and it honestly doesn’t feel quite as pretentious. In attempting to get some momentum behind this endeavor, I find myself struggling a bit to fire the engines up.

I have stories, but the blog doesn’t provide any context for sharing them, and I’m most accustomed to having some reason (even if tenuous) to get me started. So I thought perhaps I would attempt a chronological order of events , but what if I miss a story and need to go back later and add it? Maybe it makes more sense to take a topical approach (Youth, Military, Faith, Adventure, Redneck Exploits, Parenting, etc.)?

Being a blog, and having access to the use of Tags, I believe I have settled on some combination of the two and we will see how that works. The great thing about the web is that I can always go back and retrofit the data as I see fit, might as well take advantage of that.

Lastly, there is the issue of believability. By all accounts, I’ve led a somewhat fantastic life, and had some rather out of the ordinary experiences. I’ve often cogitated on the matter and wonder how much of that is owed to others lack of travel or lack of skill in relating their stories, as opposed to anything particularly unique about my own experiences.

Whatever it is, the fact remains that most people who hear my stories walk away laughing, having enjoyed the tale, yet believing that it is all fiction and that I have a great imagination. The exceptions to this rule tend to be those who have previous military experience, or those who have a wide variety of traveling experience under their belt. These individuals tend to nod their heads and speak up to tell how that reminds them of an experience they once had. Which leads me to suppose that the belief in a story is based more on the listener’s (or reader ‘s in this case) hermeneutic than anything else.

So, for those of you who are predisposed to believe that I simply spin tall tales with only the most tenuous threads of reality, I ask that you suspend your disbelief and broaden your perspective. I promise that all of these stories are well grounded in reality experienced by myself and those whom, alongside myself, set out to lay both hands on life. I will freely admit that I am prone to taking some creative license with these tales; however, I dare say that I’ll not provide any “Big One That Got Away” tales; the fish will all be appropriately sized.

Which leads me to believe that the first story to be shared should indeed be a fishing tale, I will indeed tell you all about The Big One That Got Away, and particularly how happy Tommy and I were to see it gone! Stay tuned and we will see about getting that written up.