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Towboat Trash
Member White Shrimper Boot Club


Joined: 25 May 2009
Posts: 615
Location: somewhere on 130 miles of beach

PostPosted: Sat Dec 12, 2015 11:06 am    Post subject: PINS 12/6 - 12/8 Reply with quote

"They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters;

These see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep.

For he commandeth, and raiseth the stormy wind, which lifteth up the waves thereof.

They mount up to the heaven, they go down again to the depths....

--Psalm 107:23-26

"And now I saw a pale horse, and it's riders name was Death.

--Revelation 6:8


Dedicated to you Keith....and the other crew of the El Faro...may you Rest In Peace brother....


"Mr Price, a Welshman who has recently married in this town, called to get me to go in with him and three or four others to go down to Padre Island and see if we can make a raise and pick something up...... (salvage a sailing vessel and lay claim to it)

....tormented all night from the mosquitoes although we laid ourselves close to the surf of the Gulf we have the burning heat of the sea, fleas, and ants to torment us by day if we stop, and mosquitoes and sand crabs during the night. Last night one of the latter got under my blanket and bit me in the face till it bled...

...about noon we met a man named Murdock, a returning renegade with a light wagon, a yoke of steers and another man returning with him, they told us that we were about eight miles from boat but he did not think we could do anything with her, he gave us a drink of wine.

For the last two days we have been on short allowance of grub having no meat and our bread nearly gone our prospect are that we shall entirely without...being then about seventy five miles down the island and two of the horses about to give out....

...but felt stronger and after purchasing about two dozen biscuits from Murdock and he giving us a drink of liquor...
At daylight I fancied I saw 2 hogs near the place and we all turned out in a hurry. It was a delusion, and as the horses could not carry us more, we concluded our only chance was to get back to the boat, and see if Murdock was gone past and if possible catch him, and purchase provisions at any price.

...and then with a pole we knocked more holes in her than there are days in a week, left her to the breakers....

....and I rode straight to my yard and was very glad once more to get back, like all my Texas trips the experience i had gained being my only renumeration...


--excerpts from the "Diary of my Life," by Thomas Noakes, early Corpus settler, on his trip with four others down Padre from July 9 to July 19th, 1865 to salvage a wrecked sailing vessel in the present day 50s.



Well, it's seemed like a whirlwind lately. My dear wife is 21 weeks pregnant today, but yet my good friend and WWII veteran Ralph Wade is in the nursing home now, and before that-the hospital for a few weeks. My WWII vet grandfather doesn't have much time left and is suffering. I replaced my old beach truck with a new used one, but just hadn't gotten it set up yet to fish out of-that's proving to be more work than finding and buying the thing. And above all else, the tragedy of the sinking of the El Faro has dominated many people's thoughts and prayers. And no matter what may be going on-nothing can shake the insurmountable feeling that it shouldn't have been Keith....it just shouldn't have. Twin girls on the way back at home....shipping out on the "safe" run from Jacksonville to Puerto Rico, a football star back in school, and a great guy, and a better man. There isn't a day that goes by that I can't stop and wonder why him, and not me? He was playing ball and taking directions from Coach Corradi while NOBODY was gonna tell ole Colin what to do. He was always smiling and joking while I was usually not in the mood, at those 0700 morning formations in the snow. He chose to ship the professional and safe blue water side of things, while I chose towboats and brown water, preferring to find the last impossible bastion of outlaw pirates known to man to work with. None of it makes any sense-none of it. Why this one and not that one? What one good reason is one man here today but another gone, his loved ones left with a hole in their hearts? There just aren't any ready answers. So like always, I headed to the island...

Without fishing gear, this would be just a shakedown trip in the new used truck, just a trip to think, reflect, and look for answers to the thoughts swirling around in my head.



And a chance to look for the ghost of William Murdock...trading post man and renegade vagabond of the Civil War of Padre Island. And a colorful character, only ever seen drunk riding around on wagon at all hours of the day and night with a load of provisions for sale....up and down those beaches....starving and need supplies? Have a drink first on me, then we'll talk...





And of course, act a fool a lil bit.


Hmmm, smuggling? Not if my nutty uncle Trump there get's Mexico to pay for that wall there...but like they say, we ain't goin there. Laughing





And I don't know of any place quieter to stop of on a Sunday night after dark, so in I went to go catch a quick limit of drum and reds.


And seeing not much has changed with the condition of the road.


And after a while Joe showed up, and then Jacob with his boat. We all caught a few fish and had a few laughs until some jeep with five of those new LED light track bars, four super-Xenon HID 8 Trillion candlepower light systems, and four regular headlights came and parked 20 feet away and left all that aimed right into the Laguna. Never would turn all that off. Time to go.

Spent a quiet peaceful night on the beach at the destination of the morning's mission.




What a morning.




And ready to jet off after a new area to see. And not just any area, but the Murdock area. You see, history documents old Murdock had a trading post here, and worked at shuttling lumber purposefully offloaded just offshore here by sailing ships from the east coast. He would load these logs up and drag them across the Island to his landing. Then he would float/barge them across the bay to the King Ranch for their ever growing enterprise's ranch needs.


And with a Coast and Geodetic station or two involved, I had more than enough to keep me busy!


I had missed this view so much during these hot summer months...


And my mind wandered back to the summer of 1865, and to Murdock's trading post, and to the way this must have looked so long ago....


But the cattle are all gone now, and Murdock is too, and only ghosts and memories remain here....and of course, me...



And a TON of sedges....


And the "meat" that had completely escaped the grasp of Thomas Noakes and his band of salvors was present and wary...




And as I made my way to within a mile give or take of Murdock's old trading post, I couldn't help but be drawn in by the beauty of it all.







What a pretty shoreline....and historically it was supposedly the deepest shoreline against the Laguna, thus why Murdock would have chosen it to load that lumber to barge over to the King Ranch...


Could any one of these sloughs be one of his old ox drawn/bucket dredged out sites? Did he actually do such a thing? Ahh, the annals of time and the mysteries thereof...


But today it was just me and the memory of those who came before me.


And I hiked a mile or so north, just exploring each cut and wondering if any of them were used by Murdock and wondering who else had stepped in each spot that I stepped upon...




And some more furry friends...




And some not so furry friends that I've wondered over the years...do they ever even see me! Because I've seen you! The 5, 10, 15, 17, 18, 20, 25, 30's, 40's, 50s....ya just always popping up! Laughing


And more shoreline features....


And as the day grew later, I stopped and looked around. This would be the largest of the cuts.


And as a faint west wind began to blow...I watched as the water began stacking up, and filling every little inlet...


And I spoke Murdock's name. Sure did. Because without mystery, without intrigue, without adventure and a zest for life...well this old world's just dead isn't it?


And I took it all off and just sat. Took a breather for an hour, just me and the shoreline of the Laguna Madre.



Well, and Joe's truck off in the distance. I guess that's what makes each man different. Rather than go with him and Jacob to completely school massive trout stacked up at the landcut, here I sat. And with no where I'd rather be.


And I sat and thought about the conical dune in the distance...what a shape for a dune to take...




And I became mesmerized by the faint whisper of a breeze gently billowing each arm of this dried up widgeon grass, gray and withered by death....and I thought about things. Thought about the peace that this Island, this park, brings. And how THAT is the true treasure of such a place. Not some stupid fish, not a full cooler, not your picture on the cover of the next fishing magazine...


And I picked up a piece of the algal mat laying near me and held it. Felt it's texture and realized, every single living I've encountered this morning has been fed and is taken care of. So how are any of us any less?


And while the pain and confusion of remaining behind on this Earth while those that used to stand next to you are now gone way too soon with no chance for a goodbye remains, the cycle of life will continue to turn...


So after a while longer, I checked back into life again. Got up, dusted myself off, put it back in gear just like that beautiful truck over the dune line and continued right back on into things. And while the road we travel is curvy and hard, there's not a one of us who is in it alone.


Well, except for some fool on a turtle buggy on "turtle holiday."


And I was just so thankful for this little harbor in the maelstrom of life on this day.


And to my delight, small perch and piggies and the like swam around in the ever rising west wind driven waters.





What a pretty sight.


And in one pool 300 feet back into the island, the baitfish were balled up.


And as I watched....ATTACK!


Fresh from the blue crab family....but what's he doing back in here exposed!?


And I looked around and realized....he's been feeding on a dried up and cut off pool of Laguna water that was filled with baitfish and then emptied after the last norther! And sure enough, there were plenty of baitfish in this pool!


But such is the circle of life. And then the seacoast bluestem I had been yearning to see called me away, and back into the middle of the Island I would go.


But not without my not so furry friends!




And an hour later, the bloom of the foredune ridge let me know I was home!






Gorgeous.




And such a great day to be on Island.




And I stripped that gear off and was actually SWEATY! Warm day indeed!


And after a quick sandwich and one COLD Gatorade, I loaded up the truck and the gear and headed south. The real mission couldn't wait much longer, daylight was fading!





This guy understood that!


Great Blue Herons....love em!


And as I drove south, deep deep south....I left Murdock behind and his trading post behind, and his wagon and all of it....and headed for my true reason for this trip. Mission deep into the backcountry! But halfway there, I saw a sight that was unmistakable. And I had to just stop and think about all of those who have fought for this, who have defended this, who continue to fight for this. All alone, completely alone, I just saw and watched Old Glory wave from the top of that dune line. The hairs on my neck stood up as I felt the power of such a sight.


And as I reached the location of my next site, I geared back up, made SURE to remember the Brisket MRE... Laughing .....And got loaded down for the long haul! Ready to go! Been waiting two YEARS for this water to dry up back in here, and just can't wait any more!


And I looked. And I watched. For 10 years I've sat on this dune line and watched what you're seeing now. I've done it day and night. And I've always wanted to know more. So here goes.


With only the breath from my body and the squeaking of my 60lb pack, I headed off to the hills of the unknown.




And the usual pains resumed from the startoff to a pack hike, so I ducked my head down and counted seashells as I passed such a wonderful and primal stretch of God's country, some of the only country like this left in this big old world....




And I soon passed what I always call "Allen's parkway." Hurricane line that stretches through this area from the last big blow!


And with another look back, I realized, you're getting what you wanted. You're totally alone, even your not so furry friends in the black helicopter are back at the hangar busting each other's chops now...


And I counted hurricane bottles as well.




And soon enough, it was sedge time! Darn sedges! They've been growing like "BeBe kids" since all this rain! 44.3 inches this year so far!


And some of the prettiest cacti began to appear.


I always like to see who's been nibbling on them...


And having passed through the coastal prairie...it was time for no man's land. A section of the Island that to me has no sense of time, no right or wrong, no reservations about ending your butt...the mats.


And well, what is lost here stays here. Only big big storms can touch it here, even the animals skirt around these places.


And I wondered, like I always do, about the slaves. You see---Pat Dunn, before he passed.....he told ole Louis Rawalt around cowcamp fire one night a story. A story that began like this...."Well....a boat from down that way...I forget what year...but a boat came in around there way down south, and they had been chased for so long that they were about to get caught, so what they did, they came in close to down there and they dumped those slaves overboard to lighten the load. And they get away after that, though they lost their cargo. And those slaves, well they got way across over there, you know across the Island, to a place called Slave Island. And that's where they stayed, was on Slave Island down there, it shows up on your maps as Deer Island now..."


Can you hear them? Can you hear the struggle, the will to survive? Or do you only hear the quiet sounds of the night beginning....we'll never know will we....




But the Island holds its secrets well, and what was known is often lost through the passage of time...and the shape I had been seeing continued to call me on....




This is what I live for, what drives me! The search for the untouched, the unknown, the misunderstood and the lost!


But after a few more water crossings, the waters began to close in around me. North, south, up or down...there was gonna be no way around this water without soaking and sinking. And as we all know, staying dry and keeping happy feet is everything! So not happening!




Totally and completely foiled yet another year!!


And I just sat there with a decision to make. To keep on through the morass ahead of me, or admit what's done is done and head back to the beachfront. And I thought about Keith and how his ship lies on the bottom of a 15,000 feet deep seafloor, with only one body found. And I thought about how he's never coming home, his twin girls will never see or know their father, and how Ralph Wade sits right now in a nursing home with no one visiting him. And how someone like Ralph can serve in World War II and spend 30 days afloat after a kamikaze attack sank his ship, watching sharks pull his shipmates under, never to be seen again. And then come home and live with that. And my eyes welled up with the injustice of it all, and my hope for this life sank in my chest. And I thought about how it is being a father and having been told that the blood work is bad and the baby won't make it. And then more tests months later disproving that, and being told that our baby is fine, it was all a faulty test. Why one person and not the other?


And while I knew my dream of twisting my way into the badlands of those active dune fields 2 more miles out and setting up camp would never happen this day, I also knew that maybe this was enough. That what I had been given this day so far was maybe all I was gonna get. And that knowing when to say when is an important tool in the tool belt. There would be time another day for the silence so deep back in those dunes that the only sound would be the pumping of your own blood...


And even my furry friends were staying on this side of the badlands...


And as I looked back, I thought about the long 2.5 mile hike back that awaited me, and if my body would take me. I had logged 6.5 miles that morning through the back country, and now another 5 if back outta here.


Wipe off the seat from the brow, put it in gear, and get to humping!


Back to the beach!


And back across the mats.






And feeling like it was time for a breather, I stopped and collected myself.


And as I picked up my trusty old hat, it tore! Well, I guess 5 years is a long time. Back to the Trade Center for another!




So pretty this time of night...


And as I looked back, I thought to myself..."I'll be back.."


And back towards the beach, with the sun setting low behind me, my favorite occurred. The setting sun cast long shadows over the dunes, and lengthened minute by minute, setting into motion a chain of events that night was to come. The crickets began singing their nightly song, and the animals of the night began to stir.




Such a place in time to be remembered.




And even the trainers were headed home...


And before I knew it, it was falling dark fast.


And as I looked over the foredune ridge and saw such a fancy pants new used truck, I thought to myself that life is good. It's real good. And maybe we'll never know how many minutes and hours are measured out to us before we're called to the other side, but we can darn sure make the most of every minute we have here.


And with night fallen, and a quick bath taken, it was time to EAT!


Boil those beach shrimp down!




And after a beautiful night's rest to a outgoing tide and a gentle cool breeze, I awoke to a foggy morning.






And after breakfast, I headed south to check out a few new Coast and Geodetic Survey stations, that have also been on the priority list for a while. And what you're looking at here is what my friend Charles described as, "In the surf! I was originally dunes but the island eroded!" And sure enough, the 1939 description for this site offers a glimpse as to this site being 150 meters west of the high water line. Just think....this used to be well behind the forebeach....


And of course, the station is long gone and destroyed...




Heading south, I came across this.


And I thought again about Keith and how this calling to the ocean runs so deep, and how so many have lost loved ones to her....


Yep, she's the same size as my 10 footer back home. Whole starboard pontoon ripped off!


And then it was on the final scoutout location!


Yep, the infamous...the one and only...the Mansfield "Trailer Park."


And I found that which I sought! Station Leigh!


There she sits...just waiting to be found again!


And it grew warmer and more springlike by the moment.


But victory was mine!


And of course, a destroyed reference mark station nearby.


And one "Spiny Jewelbox", one of my favorites, a beautiful seashell of the island.


And of course, something to explore.


Hot today!


1980...wonder where these two are now....


And one beautiful day was forming on the beachfront.


Coconut!




And an Indians oyster supper!


I headed over to the channel just to see.


Took a ride down the channel road. Annnnnd on the way back out....


Got lazy and accidentally went right through the middle of a bog, and buried old girl!!!!! Shocked


Sank it in one second once I went off in that hole, and she sat right down on the axle tubes and the pumpkin diffs, and that was THAT!!!






I would suggest NO ONE get off in this bad boy anytime soon! Or you might be here awhile!


As bad as it gets just about! All this rain! One baaaad mudhole if you try to take the ruts while fooling with some good George Jones on the radio like me!


And I'd still be sitting there if it weren't for Tony and his brother camped up at the rocks. Been knowing Tony for a few years now, but he really did me a favor letting me anchor my winch to his truck and winch that sucker out. Thanks Tony, hope ya'll caught some fish.


And the wholeshebang smelled like the bottom of a dredge spoil!


Back at camp, the tent kot was about dried out from the nights dew, and it was time to pack it in, as we had a good bit more welding and fabricating to do on the shark rack and front rod holder back in town.




And after a while shooting the bull with Schlessinger and comrade with the Border Patrol stopped to see if I was alright, it was time to head back in, only staying another night if the fish would bite. But I finally realized I had too much to do before heading back to work Friday, so with one last look at the water, that was a wrap.


And I popped in one mobile party in a case, and rolled out!!!! Laughing Laughing Laughing






Although I wasn't able to do just exactly what I had hoped for this trip, like the song says, "You can't always get what you want, but you just might find, you get what you need." How true. And while there weren't any beach fish, only bay fish caught this trip, that wasn't really what I was after anyway was it? And after all, I got to search for the ghost of William Murdock himself and hear his old wagon creaking along down a windswept beach, I got to spend some time alone on the backside, and I even got my toes in the sand again. And as I left Padre that day I had no more answers than before, but I found just enough peace from it all to get by. And I suppose that's what it's all about. Rest in peace Keith and the crew of El Faro, and to anyone who is lost at sea and looking for a safe harbor, I pray you find it.

"I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.

--John Masefield


_________________
Protect Padre at all costs for future generations to use and enjoy and never forget our freedoms aren't free.

www.padreislandexpeditions.com


Last edited by Towboat Trash on Sat Dec 12, 2015 9:22 pm; edited 3 times in total
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NaplesJohn
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PostPosted: Sat Dec 12, 2015 11:58 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

As always, you spin the best accounts of your exploring...amazing pics just put the icing on the cake!
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ratherbefishing
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Joined: 20 Oct 2008
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PostPosted: Sat Dec 12, 2015 12:24 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Another classic report TT!

Sorry for your loss and at the same time, congratulations on being a father to be.

Keep up the stories and pictures. Many here love them just like I do.

Joe
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shallowsport
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PostPosted: Sat Dec 12, 2015 12:50 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

X2 - Great story & picture account of your adventure. It can sure be beautiful & desolate country back there. Admire your class with the jeep and bright lights.
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"I do hunt and I do fish and I do not apologize to anyone that I hunt and fish." - Norman Schwarzkopf
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deputydawg
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PostPosted: Sat Dec 12, 2015 1:45 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Good stuff! I am going to start spending more time on the other side of those dunes!

Congrats on the upcoming baby!
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Baffinboy
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PostPosted: Mon Dec 14, 2015 1:00 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Where can you get that Diary of My Life book? I can't find it
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Lovethemyorkies
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PostPosted: Mon Dec 14, 2015 4:09 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

I enjoy reading about your adventures also. Thanks and congratulations to you and your wife on the baby.
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DawnPatrolVeteran
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PostPosted: Tue Dec 15, 2015 5:43 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Awesome adventure!
America has some of the best trails and hidden gems, when you think of getting away you think of the Appalachian Trail, Rockies, Alaska, Hawaii, Olympic etc....I think this has just as much adventure, danger, ruggedness and beauty as any place on Earth. The Spaniards didnt call this land 'El Desierto De Los Muertos' for nothing. Its right here in our backyard, kudos to your zeal.
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TailStalker
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PostPosted: Tue Dec 15, 2015 6:33 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Awesome read!!
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Towboat Trash
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Joined: 25 May 2009
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Location: somewhere on 130 miles of beach

PostPosted: Thu Dec 17, 2015 4:42 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Thanks for the kind words fellas. Happy holidays.

Baffinboy wrote:
Where can you get that Diary of My Life book? I can't find it


Check your messages, let me know if that helps.
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rodandroll
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PostPosted: Thu Dec 17, 2015 9:21 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Doobie Brothers, Love Em!!!! From my time zone. Didn't realize anyone other than us 60's folks listened to them. Great to see someone younger who appreciates them. Do you have any Moody Blues??? Another classic rock band similar to the Doobie Brothers.

Love the pictures. Saved some of them to my wallpaper folder for future use.

Thanks
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Towboat Trash
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Joined: 25 May 2009
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Location: somewhere on 130 miles of beach

PostPosted: Tue Dec 22, 2015 5:56 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

rodandroll wrote:
Doobie Brothers, Love Em!!!! From my time zone. Didn't realize anyone other than us 60's folks listened to them. Great to see someone younger who appreciates them. Do you have any Moody Blues??? Another classic rock band similar to the Doobie Brothers.

Love the pictures. Saved some of them to my wallpaper folder for future use.

Thanks


Got a Moody Blues cd right next to that Doobies album. Laughing They say every band member had an education in symphonic orchestra and such. It shows. When I was young the old man caught me with a "Vanilla Ice" rap album. It got the boot-and I got a Moody Blues album, "Here, you can listen to this all you want. But no more of this Vanilla clown!"
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Protect Padre at all costs for future generations to use and enjoy and never forget our freedoms aren't free.

www.padreislandexpeditions.com
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rodandroll
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PostPosted: Tue Dec 22, 2015 10:26 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Towboat Trash wrote:
rodandroll wrote:
Doobie Brothers, Love Em!!!! From my time zone. Didn't realize anyone other than us 60's folks listened to them. Great to see someone younger who appreciates them. Do you have any Moody Blues??? Another classic rock band similar to the Doobie Brothers.

Love the pictures. Saved some of them to my wallpaper folder for future use.

Thanks


Got a Moody Blues cd right next to that Doobies album. Laughing They say every band member had an education in symphonic orchestra and such. It shows. When I was young the old man caught me with a "Vanilla Ice" rap album. It got the boot-and I got a Moody Blues album, "Here, you can listen to this all you want. But no more of this Vanilla clown!"


Ok!!!! Next on your list has to be the Cream. Not together too long, but they were absolutely great! Wink
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Now that food has replaced my sex life I can't even get into my own pants!!!!!!!!

Even duct tape can't fix stupid ... but it can muffle the sound!!!
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Greytfish
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PostPosted: Tue Dec 22, 2015 12:02 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

That was an awesome read!
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TexGator
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PostPosted: Tue Dec 22, 2015 5:14 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Ddduuudddeee! You are the Jerimiah Johnson of SPID. Thanks for all of the personally felt info and descriptions. Merry Christmas to you and yours
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