To start this week’s missive, I offer to the following 5-second video for your edification:
If you are not reading this on an electronic device, and do not want to miss out on all the fun and good times the rest of us are sharing, , you may semi-loudly and very excitedly exclaim, “I’m going on an adventure” in your best British/Middle Earth account and, Bob’s your uncle, we are all caught up and on point.
This small snippet of one of Peter Jackson’s Hobbit movies is a go-to expression for our family. We send it to one another on major occasions such as trips to the seashore, a distant solar system, or the local grocery store. We are an exciting bunch.
Life lesson #1 for today: Celebrate the journey; it’s an adventure or an arduous trek – your choice.
In late June, I experienced quite the adventure.
That loud creaking sound you heard earlier in the year, was me getting off my wallet. Wife-o’-mine and I went on a Stephen Ambrose Historical Tours trip to the American West. If you are interested in American History, you should probably read a few of his books. I found Undaunted Courage, D-Day, and Citizens Soldiers particularly interesting.
Our June trip was the Crazy Horse & Custer Tour, and it was, in fact, a grand adventure. I recall writing a book report in sixth grade on Quentin Reynold’s 1951 book, Custer’s Last Stand, thus beginning my fascination with the history and mythology of the American West. While I cannot prove it, I surely received an “A” on the report, probably not so much for my exposition and erudition as for the fact that I was one of the few kids in Spook Hill Elementary, grade 6, 1969, that could, and did, read. Like Jethro Bodine, I graduated highest in my class. In Jethro’s case, he was 6′ 3″.
During my just-completed foray into history and the northern Great Plains, I was able to lend a heightened level of realism to all the years of reading American History. I stood where Crazy Horse was fatally wounded just outside the guardhouse at Fort Robinson. I studied the hills and dales of the Fetterman massacre and the Battle of the Rosebud sites. I went to Wild Bill Hickok’s grave, then later saw his silver-plated 1951 Colt Navy in the Cody Museum.
The highlight (for me) of the trip was being able to walk the Custer Battlefield (now renamed the “Little Bighorn National Monument” because culture wars never end).
I now believe I understand how the battle unfolded and can explain it to you in endless detail should we find ourselves stranded on a desert island and must pass the time for a year or six. I believe my wife enjoyed the trip as well, but she did ask a time or two, “Do we HAVE to stop and read EVERY plaque at EVERY place we visit?” In my defense, I had no way of knowing she was serious.
She does have an interest in history, though, and asked me two or three times about the “calvary”. Being the wise and gentle soul you know me to be, I replied: “Calvary, Jesus…Cavalry, Custer…not the same”. Much like my grandson Oliver, age six and NOT on the trip, I spent lots of time in timeout to “think about what you did”.
History aside, my ever-tolerant spouse enjoyed seeing the American West for her first time.
I believe she was most impressed with Devil’s Tower and the Bighorn Canyon National Recreation Area. She did offer one historical observation however: “All this land with nothing on it, and people had to kill each other for it?” As usual, she had a point.
It was such a great trip for this history buff, but it left a sobering thought: Surely all people of all times are like those tribes of the Great Plains two hundred and fifty years ago: the life we knew when we were young is gone forever. No one will ever understand it or cherish it like we did. Sigh.
Life lesson #2 for today: The adventure, Mr. Baggins, is available today only. Memories and hopes are wisps in the wind. All that planning I talk about? Remind me to live in the present. I sometimes forget.
PS
Today’s word is Misophonia
This would be a defining characteristic of my wife’s husband. If you don’t believe it, just ask her.
August 2025
