My Friend Hoppy

There is a wonderful place in Cornville, Arizona, called Connections, which is a non-profit horse ranch that specializes in helping challenged men, women, boys and girls with the loving therapy that only learning about horses can give. I have seen the Connections Equine Therapy Program in action and the results are truly amazing!

While at Connections, my wife and I met Hoppy and Leslie Mennenger, who were also volunteers. Hoppy looked like Wild Bill Hickok with his long pony tail and goatee, but talked with a heavy New York accent. I immediately liked Hoppy and through the years we have all stayed friends. While Hoppy and my wife spend many hours volunteering at Connections, I have devoted most of my time writing murder mysteries and part-time consulting, while Leslie has become totally involved in a greeting card career.

Hoppy had seen my Harley-Davidson Road King many times and always said he wanted to start riding again, but could never bring himself to take the plunge. After I sold my Road King and was not riding, he started talking about buying a horse and keeping it at Connections. I, in turn, bought a Harley V-Rod and sent Hoppy a picture. He relayed a message through my wife that now he really wanted to start riding a Harley. I decided to call Hoppy and find out if he was serious. He was not only serious, but asked me if I knew where he could find a good used V-Rod. Just so happened that I did know and that there was a beautiful 2006 for sale at Buddy Stubbs in Phoenix, where I had found mine.

After calling the store and confirming that the 2006 V-Rod was still available, Hoppy and I jumped in his truck and headed for Phoenix. He put a deposit on the bike so they could install a windscreen and some other cool stuff on his bike and we headed back home with Hoppy talking a mile a minute about how he was finally going to be a Harley dude once he picked up his bike the following weekend. It was then that I learned he had never been in a Harley store, let alone ever ridden one. After over twenty years of not riding anything but a small Honda, he was now going to learn why so many men and women are hooked by the Harley-Davidson bug.

Well, today is the day and my wife, Hoppy and I are heading to Phoenix to pick up Hoppy’s new (to him) bike. We were looking forward to traveling with Leslie also, but she was already committed to another project with her passion, which is Sendoutcards. The plan was for Hoppy to ride his V-Rod back to Sedona, but there is a severe wind advisory out today so we will trailer it back to his house. While in Phoenix and after we pick up the bike, the three of us will go back home via El Encanto Mexican Restaurant in Cave Creek. We might as well kill two snakes with the same stone. Harleys and great Mexican food – the only way to go!

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Queef Bubbles

What the heck are queef bubbles? I can’t keep up with the younger generation’s terminology. I have heard of soap bubbles, lava bubbles, queer bubbles, and I even knew a lady once named Bubbles, but that’s another story.

What does it mean when someone says, “Up your Queef bubble” or “Up yours, Queef bubble” or “suck on my Queef bubble, butt head” or “Queef this, bubblehead?” I just don’t get it – when I was younger, we just got right to the point and said, “Hey man, that’s cool…right on!” The words were simple, to the point and understandable even while spoken in a maze of blue smoke.

Oh, well, I guess I will just continue to play like I understand what’s going on during my Facebook forays. Click like and carry on in “older than dirt” fashion….

I’m just saying,

Mittster

PS: OMG...I just Googled Queef Bubble! I shouldn't post this blog now, but I can't help myself.

The face of Jesus

I am not one to see visions or apparitions and certainly not a face in stone. What I discovered sitting on the desert floor looking up at me during one of my meteorite searches astounded me. I was at least a mile from any road and the only sounds were from birds and the warm desert wind. I looked at the rock in amazement from several angles and at different distances. The face seemed to be looking at me with the agony of a man crucified. A sudden calm and warmth covered my whole body as the realization dawned on me that I was looking into the face of Jesus Christ!

I knelt down in reverence and recited the Lord’s Prayer aloud. How could I be feeling the power of Divine Love and Peace by looking into the eyes of a face drawn on stone by the power of nature? I had never felt such peace and love until that late afternoon in the warm, setting Quartzsite, Arizona, sun in late January 2011.

I, of course, wanted to pick up the stone and take it back to town and show it to my wife. Hesitating, I wondered if it would be sacrilegious. A voice said to me inside my brain, “Would it be better that the stone lay here in the desert another two thousand years inspiring no one?” I thought, good point, as I picked up the stone and placed it reverently in my knap sac.

While walking almost a mile back to my truck, one thought kept spinning in my head. What am I to do with this stone? I had seen many such artifacts publicized in newspapers and on television, and each time, I thought it ridiculous. Why do people flock to such obvious fake images? Now it was my turn to understand that faith can indeed move mountains and that there is religious value to these images. After all, I too had had a profound religious experience when I saw the stone. But, how do I share the experience with others without ridicule? What if no one sees the image in the same way I did? I decided to keep the face of Christ a secret, even from my wife.

The stone has been lying on a tray with other desert rocks on our front porch for almost three months now. I placed the image toward a sun screen so that no one could see it until I could reconcile my mixed feelings about showing it to others. This Easter, as I sat on the front porch waiting for sunrise – I again said the Lord’s Prayer out loud and the answer I was seeking about the stone was revealed to me. It doesn’t matter what others may or may not see. It doesn’t matter what people say or do not say about the stone. What matters is that surely someone will recognize the image as I did and that is enough. If even only one person sees the face of Jesus Christ and is able to have a profound spiritual healing like I did, that is enough. Who am I to pretend that the stone does not exist and keep the face of Jesus secret? I was blessed that day in the desert and now I hope you can also be blessed….

Mitt Winstead

Man's Second Best Friend

This is just a short blog to remind all of us that the health of earth’s animal kingdom is a reflection of the health of humankind, and that cruelty to animals of any kind is unacceptable human behavior.

Be kind to an animal today and kindness will be bestowed upon you tenfold in return….

Write on,

Mittster

Skull and Bones

I couldn’t figure out why Harley-Davidson started putting skull and bones on all their bike accessories. After some research, the reason became apparent. As a murder mystery writer and Harley rider, the skull and bones have much significance, but it never occurred to me that there could also be a “booty call” connection.

My wife has always objected to any Harley stuff with skulls attached to it until I bought my V-Rod a few weeks ago. Low and behold when we got home she presented me with a Buddy Stubb's skull and bones T-shirt! I doubt she knew about the real connotation or my T-shirt would have been a traditional bike picture with no connotation what-so-ever.

Too late now, darling, I have it and I am wearing it! Of course, my reasoning is to tie murder mystery writing in with Harleys so I can sell my books while riding in motorcycle rallies. A little “booty” watching along the way surely can’t hurt. It keeps the eyes in good shape, but – Look, but don’t touch is another connotation I also understand well….

I’m just saying,

Mittster