Gathering

NEW PRODUCT  -   NEW INVENTION

They could Take the Star of David and MAKE it in several Deminsions and use it to construct an artificial reef. It would be a new invention for the Star of David. They could test it, thru Tex. A&M. Could be constructed by welding then each star Dipped in Sac-Crete or Concrete. The artificial reef MADE about the size of two olypic size swimming pools stacked on top of one another.

*******************

I talked to Mr. B tonight for an hour and a half after work. So far we've gone from 1940 to approximately 1952. Not much happens to a kid if you think about it. Yet I've got about 8 pages of notes to boil down into something cohesive.

New Item

New Item     --     New Invention

The people who make oven heating coils could offer custom made coils in special order stoves that WERE MADE to look like Cattle Brands. Could ADD profits to the retail business. They could even use Native American signs and symbol provided The Tribes approved the ones used. MAKE NO MISTAKE about the Tribal Counsil whom set around drums during Pow-Wow those elderly men are very wise.

Gone Fishin'

The Grand Ole Opry had a lady called Mini Pearl who every one enjoyed. The hat she wore could be made from styrofoam and sealed in plastic and then attach two of them brim to brim and used as a fishing float and sold in Texas to [undecipherable] fishing stores and ADD sales tax and revenue to both states and revenue back into the Grand old opry. The opry would most likely Have to approve such a good fishing float. However if they knew how much money they could generate from that could be very successful.  
Dumass Wildcatter Kid. Half Breed Cherokee

 Minnie Pearl

These are the jokes, folks.

TEX. A&M Joke

Two Aggies Talking.

I understand the Aggies have invented a gizmoe.
Its called a MOE-GRAPH-SIZE-MOECHINE. It really works.
Its two welding rods and dowser. Standing on the BOW of an ice breaker. Looking for underwater telephone cable.

***********

Two Aggies Talking about stones at the bottom of Mt. Rushmore.

1st Aggie: How do you figure how many tons of stone you have there.

2nd Aggie: You get one of those professors to do it in Austin. That way you can find out How much political bull s- you have to move by lobbists in Austin. To try to get some one To build a resort there. Its two large moving jobs, unless of course they find some way to use the stones already there. It could be sold over the enternet to some-one. Hello A&M is there any one home?


************

Aggie Joke:

Two Aggies talking:

1st Aggie; shinning his boots;
"I got my degree Now and I have really sick and tired of shinning boots.

2nd Aggie: Why; It's part of our tradition.

1st Aggie: Its just not part of the business world.

The Beginning

So Mr. B is ready to commit his life to paper. He told me as much yesterday.
I could tell he's been thinking it over for awhile. Finally last night he asked me when I would like to interview him.

"How about next Tuesday?"

He nodded, "What do I have to bring?"

"Your brain."

"That's it?"

"Yup."

"Pencils?"

"Nope, I got that covered."

"Do you need paper?"

"Nah, I think I've got some."

I told him that he could work on some of his artwork while he talked to me. Might be more comfortable for both of us considering I don't really have "a plan" as much as I have "an idea of a plan." I was quick to tell him that I was not a professional writer/interviewer by any stretch of the imagination and that I couldn't promise him a masterpiece. He seemed unfazed by this.

What he does seem interested in is getting "his story" out there. He said that throughout his life many people have stolen ideas from him. He sees this as a way to set things straight.

Push "pause."

I can't help but feel conflicted about this. On one hand, Mr. B is eager to tell his story. On the other...am I becoming just another person who steals from him? He trusts me and I cannot and will not break that. Or am I breaking it already? Whose glory am I seeking? His? Or mine?

He's been in a bit of a rut lately. Not doing much artwork. Not really writing his thoughts. He told me that he's not been very inspired. But ever since he's been turning the idea of this project over in his head, he's seemed keen on getting started. He told me that he'll even bring me some pictures to help tell his story. I can actually see his wheels turning. When I was talking to him last night, his gaze would often go off in the distance and he'd say, "Yeah, I've got stories." He then left me with a teaser that he was the one who invented the stealth bomber. (This motif often appears in his cards.) It's kind of nice to see him excited about something.

And then...I wonder...about cans of worms. You know what they say about cans of worms. What if I find out things that I don't want to know? I told him that he only has to share things that he's comfortable sharing. He informed that he's planning on telling "the whole truth." Will my perception of him change when I'm provided with new information? Has it changed already? Also, am I crossing a professional line? Where do "patrons" end and "friends" begin? What are the roles of public servants who work with the public day in and day out? Should we be automatons and issue terse greetings and just get on with it? Or. Are we forgetting the human side of service? I'm not an automaton (last I checked). I can't be expected to act like one. I forge relationships. I say "hello" to people by name. I know about the movies they've seen, the trips they've taken, the books they've read. I lavish praise on the children who give me hand-colored pictures even though I'm actually "not allowed" to accept gifts. When I fractured my shoulder last fall I can't tell you the amount of patrons who repeatedly inquired of my progress, shared their own stories and offered words of encouragement. This is a library not an insurance company. Our mission is to "improve the lives of the people in our community," right?  

  

Maybe this is good time to say this about Mr. B: He's a 71-year-old-man with no family nearby. He lives alone. He's never mentioned any friends. He takes medication for a variety of ailments. I'm the one who asks him if he's taking his pills. If he's eaten that day. If he's been sleeping. If he's called the eye doctor to get his glasses fixed. It's a bit of a running joke but he knows that if he doesn't show his face at the library for 5 days or more I will knock on his front door. Sometimes he'll just pop in and if he doesn't see me around he'll tell one of my co-workers to tell "Miss J that I was here."

So really...maybe I've already crossed the line? But in this profession, it gets really hard to see the line sometimes. We see children grow up before our eyes. We're with people when their spouses die. We know whose cancer has returned. You can't help it. Humans talk. We talk. We connect. We reach out. We're social beings. I can't apologize for that. 

Maybe I'm helping Mr. B. More likely, he's helping me. You see, for every question I ask him about his food intake, he tells me about something I didn't know. Do you know what a Kettenkrad is? I do now. I know about the King Ranch. And Red Adair. And the mascot at Texas A&M. He's leaving me better than I was before. I hope I'm doing the same. 

Truth is...I haven't been very inspired either. I got sick of writing about myself and I felt like it was time to write about someone else. All that contemplating my navel bullshittery. I can't help but think me and Mr. B are some kind of parallel trajectory. Kind-of a "I'll drag you and you'll drag me" type of thing. Both of us need some sort-of prodding. Me, because I rarely finish any big projects I start. Him, because he gets caught up in his own "non-special-ness." We need help to realize that together we may pull off something huge.  

Still. It's hard to shake all the "what if's." Why was Mr. B in the State Hospital? (Those tales are few and far between and very disjointed.) What happened to Mrs. B? Where are his children and why do they not speak to him? Why did he attempt to win back "power of attorney" from his son-in-law a few years ago? Why does he sometimes think people are trying to burn his house down? How far can we go? How far should we go? Do I pull the plug or let it ride? Do I choose caution or the possibility of something massively great?

It's hard to say. I suppose I'll just take it one step at a time. That's always how it is in the beginning, right?        

New Products

New Products   --- Collectors Item
Take movie posters and make the size of baseball cards. then have the engravers gold plate them and sell them as collectors item. Cherokee Idea.

************
Two stealth fighters attached belly to belly could be made into a Bar-B-Que Pit and meat smoker with large bike wheels on it for moving around the yard. New Invention & New Product. It could be made in this country or it could be made in Formosa* and shipped here. It all about profit. There could be two models made one that stands up-right and one that lays down. The use of [indecipherable]

*************
New product  --- New Invention
The Viking sword scabbard could all be made into seat belt support units and sold in retail wherever, The Viking could be proven to have explored.


*Taiwan

Great White Way

They could put another Broadway Show together called "Panthers and other Cats." Who knows might last awhile.

Collection Maintenance

This is just a small sampling of my Mr. B cards and papers.

I'm trying to organize them. So far I have the following categories: 

INVENTIONS

SUGGESTIONS

FUNDRAISERS

MOVIES/TV

AGGIES

AGGIE JOKES

ART

CORRESPONDENCE COURSES

THE STAR OF DAVID

BROADWAY SHOWS

FOOD

WELDING

PIPELINING

FISHING LURES

BOARD GAMES

CONSPIRACY THEORIES I SHOULDN'T POST BECAUSE IT WILL ALARM...

THE F.B.I.

NATIVE AMERICANS

NATIVE AMERICAN INVENTIONS

CATTLEBRANDS

It reads kinda like Double Jeopardy, doesn't it?
My goal is to transcribe every single one.

Cross

I got a small prezzie from Mr. B today. A balsa wood cross fashioned in his workshop. (And by "workshop" I mean his undoubtedly cluttered house.) He hadn't been feeling well the last few days and didn't look himself. He was slightly unshaven which is unusual for him. He told me his vertigo was getting the better of him. I was concerned so I was glad to see him looking much better today. He handed this to me as he walked out the front door saying, "Something to make you think."

It was a nice sentiment. "Gold in silt." Profound. Even the muck has value. Even though there's awfulness in the world there's always some good. Yin and Yang. Silver lining. Cloud. Etc. It did make me think. It made me think that while this was very lovely, it seemed rather prosaic for Mr. B.

I flipped it over.

"Under Niagra Falls."

Obviously.

New Products/Inventions

A spice bottle chess game. The chess players made from glass filled with spice's. Sold as a specality product thu grocery retail. Could be a advertising promotion that would have a special display in grocery stores. New Invention. New product to promote sells.

*******************

New Product --- New Invention A burgular alarm on a car custom made that plays the Aggie Marching hym. Make the Aggies lots of money.

*******************

New Invention --- New Product  A set of swimming flippers or fins that are copied from a manitees Tail 1/2 of the tail equals one fin so 2 equals a set of swim fins. Dum A- Wildcatters Kid 1/2 Cherokee

White card. Green ink.

The stealth fighter

is Trojan Horse.

As a fishing lure its

best suited.

Dum A- Wildcatters

Kid

I took a course on Emily Dickinson once. One of the things I remember is the theory that the way she placed the words on the page within the context of the poem was part of her art. All of those hyphens and specific line stops and starts become a "mini-painting" with a composition and flow. Some say that the way her poems are laid out is just as important as the words.

This card text was centered which is highly unusual for Mr. B. Can't help but think it was on purpose. It has a haiku-like quality.

Dem Bones

It stands to reason that while digging through this great, vast country of ours pipeliners were bound to run into some Indian burial grounds. (Considering that this great, vast country was once theirs after all.)

Mr. B told me that this happened in Kansas. He was 12. The workers came across the bones and they were naturally quite distressed. Mr. B still seemed visibly shaken by the memory. I don't suppose it's something you forget...being confronted by dozens of skeletons and all. He told me it was a Navajo burial ground. I asked him how he knew that it was Navajo. He said he didn't know. He seems to recall that the engineers contacted a local university to come take a look at the site. They excavated and the pipeliners just went on around 'em. 

Mr. B's says his mom was full Cherokee. I asked him how his parents met, his dad a no-holds-barred Scotsman and she a no-holds-barred Cherokee. He said his dad was pipelining in Corsicana, Texas and they met there. He's not sure of the specifics. I wish he knew more about that. I wonder what she saw in Mr. B senior. From what he's told me, the senior B was a small, wiry man who could take a licking and give it back ten times worse. 

I asked him the other day if he would consider the prospect of me interviewing him about his life. He didn't seem enthused by the idea saying once again that his life "wasn't all that interesting." I again countered with, "That's for me to decide." (My grandfather used to call me "very persistent." He was very correct.) He asked where we would do the interview. I told him at the library after my shift was over one of these days. He was still apprehensive. It was written all over his face. 

This made me worry of course. Did I have a right to tell his stories without permission? Was it made okay by anonymity? Did he not want his stories told because he didn't think much of them or was there something more dangerous happening in his head? Were there shards of memories that he didn't want to cut his fingers on? Were there gaps that he didn't want to admit were there? Bones buried under the earth? Was something too painful? Too awful? Or. Is he just completely convinced that he isn't interesting? Mr. B doesn't think something is interesting unless it's grand and amazing. I have another take entirely. I like the small things. The soaring beauty of the untapped potential of the people you see every damn day.

I told Mr. B to think about it. He didn't have to commit one way or the other. The funny thing was as he kept denying that he had interesting stories to tell, he would tell me more stories. And each one ending with, "That's all I can tell ya. Hardly even worth mentionin'." He failed the 5th grade twice. His dad called pipes less than 50 inches around "spaghetti." And all about the time when he and his friends thought it would be a good idea to swim in some kind of ditch filled with oil sludge. "Why would you do that?" I asked, stifling a laugh.

"All the other kids were doing it."

"That's really gross."

"Yeah. My mom....whoo boy, she wouldn't let me back in the house after that."

"I can imagine."

"She sprayed me with the hose outside!"

"You asked for it, my friend."

"Yeah well. Uh. You see? I don't got any stories worth mentionin'."

So I don't think he's fully against telling his story after all. He just needs some convincing and some well-meaning encouragement. Good thing I'm very persistent.

Later that afternoon, he asked me to Google images of a Star of David, a Christian cross and a Confederate flag. Not sure what he wanted them for. Still haven't seen that finished work of art yet.

Suggestions and Inventions

A butter-churn with a wind-mills on top of them. When the wind blows and turns the wind mill blades the butter churn moves up and down pushed by the wind power. It could be made from Lt. Wt. enexpensive wood and used as a yard-decoration could be merchandised and sold in any retail store. New Product. Could be sold in a kit form for less expense to the consumer.

****************
There could be an "OBAMA" "jelly" marketed and sold and the procedes would go to charities. There's already a Bama Jelly on the Market. The "Obama" "jelly" would simply be riding beside the Bama Jelly advertising. The company footing the for Obama Jelly could be given a large tax-break. That could be a $20-$1 cost per unit tax-write off. The president would always be on T.V. It's like riding in a car and not having to buy gas for it. Could help pay some bills.

****************

If the producers of the song "Don't Cry for Me Argentina" would take and change one word in there song, the word Argentina to the word Venezuela. Just by changing that one word, they could sell another gold record. Wouldn't have to ruin all the country spending all the money looking for another to publish.
Dum A- Wildcatter Kid. It's just about the simple things we do to help the economy.

Thursday Pipeline Lessons

Had a nice long confab with Mr. B today. Interestingly, he brought a framed and blown-up copy of his dad's business card from back in the day to show me. It pretty much looked like if Currier and Ives had done a Pipelinin' scene. He pointed out the welders. And the "powder monkeys." (They're the guys that blow up the ditch with dynamite if there's big rocks in the way.) He told me about how he saw this one guy almost get buried alive, getting knocked into a ditch and covered with dirt. "Did he die?!" I asked, staring at the black and white drawing. "Nope," Mr. B smiled, "But I think he wisht he would've."

They could lay 1-3 miles of pipeline in one day. Starting at 8 am...sometimes working 18 hours a day. It suddenly struck me that I've never once given any thought about how our oil gets around saying, "Mr. B, honestly, you guys had a huge hand in building this country, you know? I mean, yeah, there's the railroad guys. The pioneers. But this is a big deal." He scoffed. "I guess the only thing we really did was keep people from freezin' up in New York City." This is his usual modesty.

"We should write a book, Mr. B."

"Nah. There's lotsa people who's story's same as mine. Lotsa people were pipelinin'."

"Yeah but you're the only one standing in front of me now."

That made him laugh.

We conversationally meandered and talked about the explosion in Texas City, Texas in 1947. He was only 5 then and living in Corsicana. Google pictures of THAT thing and it'll stop you in your tracks. They say some of the debris landed 5 miles away. I always tell him that he teaches me something everyday.

We also found out about a guy named Jack Ellis, a painter in Canada who specializes in depicting scenes from the oil and gas industry. Lookee here...

There's something quite beautiful about his work, don't you think? Even though the guy's Canadian, it represents a kind of American idea. Conquering the environment. Bending it to our will. Nature and Technology. They blasted through mountains in this country to put a train through it. And they dug through dirt and blasted rocks to make sure people in New York City didn't freeze. That was back breaking, soul scorching work. And they did it. And I feel kind of guilty to have never thought about it. Pipeliners don't get a lot of press.

Found some welding-related index cards of Mr. B's in my collection tonight. Red ink:

New Product

A correspondence course w/ How to Be a "welder helper in all types of welding Situations." from Ship Building to Pipe Fitting to Pipelining. If the welders union hall in Okla, Tex, Arkansas and there states education agency would sponsor a course of such It would be a very helpful educational aid in the welding field. It could be studied while Helping a welder and working at the same time. It would make for a more professional craft."

And this one...dark green marker:

Twenty Seven hundred Pipeliners rotated out of Alaska Once every 3 mos. and in 7 1/2 yrs you could lay 4 pipelines in Alaska. You know how? You leave the engineers, the welders, and the surveyors at Home. Thats how you do it.

Did I mention there was a plane depicted in the pipelining scene from Mr. B Sr's business card? Given the perspective it should not have included a such a large plane flying so low...obviously this was an important part of the story. I asked who was in the plane. He said, "Oh that's the engineers. Making sure we're followin' the plans." Clearly, the engineers weren't getting their hands dirty.

Stumbled on a variation of the same "suggestion" but disguised as an Aggie joke:

Aggie Joke:

1st Aggie: 2700 Pipe Liners rotated out of Alaska once ever 3 month in 7 and 1/2 years you can lay 4 pipelines in Alaska.

2nd Aggie: How do you do that?

1st Aggie: you leave the surveyin crew, the engineers, and the welders at home.

I thought the welders were the good guys. This is confusing. Mr. B started out as a welder's helper so I don't know...

Green ink. White index card:

A Merchandise Contest

A con-test to see who could put together a welding machine the fastest who ever won would be able to keep the welding machine. It would help sell welding machine kits. /Or they could start selling welding machine kits. start a new industry. could tie it to the F.F.A. and Ag classes. Could be a contest held for Ag classes or during county and state fairs.

Mr. B once asked me to find him information about making his own welding machine. I kinda didn't want to find anything on it for fear that he would blow himself up. (He caught himself on fire a little bit last year so this is a very real possibility. I believe he said he sprayed canned air into his hot water heater. Singed his arms. I saw them. And I yelled at him.)

Sparkly light green ink. Index card:

New Product   ----  New Invention

1) A Board game on "How to Help a Welder", could be sold as a (covering ALL TYPES of Welding) Educational Game.

2) A Correspondence Course on How to Help a Welder. Sold as a educational product.

There are two new products from idea about inventions that could be. If one of those Cherokee doctor's would try for 798 Help. Might help the economy.

Not sure what the last part means.

Purple ink. Index card:

NEW INVENTION

Welding glovers TAKE the material that the FIREMEN wear and place it inbetween the leather and have a 3 layerd welding glove. Cherokee.

I've noticed that when Mr. B puts "Cherokee" at the end of a suggestion, I think it means that this idea was stolen from the Cherokee and he's giving them credit. He told me once his mother was part Cherokee. This may be why he's such a big fan.

Also gave Mr. B a copy of National Geographic (September 2011) today. I had noticed that he maybe, kinda, sorta defaced the library's copy of it a while back.

He couldn't help himself...

I had quietly replaced the library's copy and then found an extra. He seemed pleased to get it. He had really gone to town on pages 70-73 which features a timeline of human flight. I should scan the images and his comments. Naturally, I saved it from the garbage.  

Lists

I've known Mr. B for 5 years now. I believe the very first thing he asked me about was finding a book on "helmet etchings." If you're making a confused face right now, that's pretty much what I did too.

He told me that men working on a pipeline often scratched designs on their helmets during downtimes. (Are there downtimes in pipeline work?) He said they would use anything available to carve the geometric and often complicated designs. I said I had never heard of that but I would check to see if I could find anything. A few searches turned up nothing. You never know though, there's a lot of secret art movements out there. Mr. B was genuinely surprised by the lack of information but thanked me anyway adding that "there should be a book about it!" I didn't disagree...which was odd...because most of the time when patrons say that I disagree. (Just because we don't have a book on the EXACT topic you have to write your research paper on, thereby saving you from research, doesn't mean "there should be a book about it!") As he walked away I felt like this partnership was the beginning of something that I would enjoy.

I guess another good place to start before I start delving into my vast collection of Mr. B's thoughts is a short list of his likes and dislikes...

LIKES
Art. Native Americans. Art of the Native Americans. Tools. Science. Welding. Pipelines. Firefighters. War planes/tanks. Inventions.

DISLIKES
Crooked cops. The Texas Rangers. The Department of Public Safety. Aggies (For those who don't know...Aggies are pretty much anyone associated with Texas A&M)

Did I mention he's an artist too? He works exclusively in gel pens. His creations are always complex geographic designs in vibrant colors. Usually they're on index cards. He's recently been working with old business cards he finds. Maybe he's recalling designs on the helmets of the men he used to idolize on the pipelines. Maybe he doesn't even realize he's doing that. Or maybe it's something else entirely. All I know is that he's recently taken to dropping a piece in front of me and asking me to name it quickly. (This has evolved from me simply finding a hidden form in the design that he never intended. He always compliments my strange eye.) It's like "Art Lightning Round!" I usually just pick out one identifying object, a sword, for instance and riff off that. I named one "Medieval" the other day. I always hope he'll give me one of his original works but he only gives away color copies of them. He keeps the originals. Always keeps the originals. 

Dumb A- Wildcatter Kid

wild·cat·ter

noun

1. an oil prospector.

2. a person who promotes risky or unsound business ventures.

Mr. B often signs his suggestions "Dumb A- Wildcatter Kid." We can dissect it as we begin to dig into his story. First of all, he believes himself to be dumb. This is not the case. He's not dumb. But he's from a different generation than me. He rarely got any positive feedback growing up. He came from a hardscrabble existence in the oil fields of central and east Texas in the 1950's. His dad was of Scottish descent who doesn't seem the type to coddle. (But those are separate stories.)

The "A" is supposed to be "ass" but Mr. B finds that disrespectful in the printed word.

"Wildcatter", see above. I didn't know what that term meant until I looked it up years ago when I first got a glimpse of Mr. B's index cards. It's a strict "Americanism." I like the sound of it. And Mr. B kind-of encompasses both of those definitions in a way that you'll see soon enough. 

"Kid." I have to say that puzzles me. He's hardly a kid by the technical definition. But I think in a lot of ways, he's still a kid out in those oil fields. Rooting around in the dust, setting dynamite or whatever-the-hell terribly dangerous thing they had him do in those days. (Again, separate stories.) And maybe...he maintains a bit of his kid-like wonder in the world. Nothing wrong with that.

As far as the "suggestions" and "ideas" (most often inventions, movie plots and ideas on how to raise money for the city) he leaves around the library for us to find...I'm not sure what exactly his intention is. We can't actually "do" any of things he suggests 99.9% of the time. I like to think he just likes getting his voice out in the world...even if it's on this small scale. I don't know. I'm not sure. And I talk to him. A lot.

One final thing...this blog is not meant to be mean-spirited. Do I think Mr. B's elevator doesn't reach the top floor? Perhaps. That's not my place to say. What I can say is that I think there is a brilliant mind in there...that somehow got a little scrambled at some point. That's a big piece of the puzzle I'm still trying to figure out. 

I'm doing this because I find his suggestions interesting (and yes, often hilarious). I find his life interesting. I find him interesting. And I respect him even when I don't understand him or his choices sometimes. 

This is all real. And true.

These index cards and scraps of paper feel like a road map to me. Meet Mr. B.