Show & Tell...

Show & Tell…
Today for show & tell I brought this little painting…

It’s a portrait miniature that hung on the wall next to my Grandmother’s bedroom dresser for as long as I can remember. Watercolor on Ivory. That’s my Grandma, Ruth, holding my mother, Newell. Painted about 100 years ago by one of the Onderdonk family, most likely Eleanor Rogers Onderdonk (1886-1986) who specialized in miniatures. Her brother, Julian was more famous, known for his Bluebonnet landscapes, three of which hung in the Oval Office when George Bush was the man. Several have sold for well over $1,000,000.

The Onderdonks were a prominent San Antonio family around the turn of the last century, as were both of my Grandparents families the Newell’s, and the Maverick’s.

Grandma’s dad, Oliver Stribling Newell, was a railroad man. A friend of then president of Mexico, Porfirio Diaz. That Great Grandpa helped build the railroad system throughout Mexico in the late 1900’s. He owned his own railroad car. Railroad building was one of the most important goals of the Díaz administration and by 1910, Mexico could boast 10,000 miles of track, uniting the country, providing secure ways to get goods to market, and enabling rural residents to leave the farm for city jobs. Great Grandfather Newell was largely responsible for that.

The Mavericks, of course, were one of the most prominent families in San Antonio, going back to Samuel Augustus Maverick (1803 – 1870) who was a Texas lawyer, politician, land baron and signer of the Texas Declaration of Independence from Mexico. His name is the source of the term "maverick" first cited in 1867, which means "independently minded". Apparently he had been paid a debt in cattle and, not being a cattle man, he didn’t brand them. Unbranded cattle which were not part of the herd came to be labeled "mavericks".

I have a picture of Sam Maverick’s home in Alamo Square, not very long after the infamous slaughter of some 200 “Texicans” at the Battle of the Alamo. Remember that?

This painting is 3” wide and 4” tall but the detail, even close up, is remarkable, especially on the lace around Grandma’s right arm. The thin sheet of ivory is permanently sealed in a case of brass and glass so unfortunately; I can’t look at the back of it to see if anything is written there.

These days, the painting hangs on the wall over my bed stand, and one day, I assume, it will probably hang over daughter Ruth’s as well.

Aside from its history, this little painting is a time machine. One glance never fails to take me back 50 years to Grandma’s and Grandpa’s house, deep in their Charlottesville woods. I spent a lot of time there as a kid; some of my favorite memories are from that time in my life. I can smell the house, the chicken Mandy was frying down in the kitchen, the dampness of the woods after a brief rain, wet dogs and antique furniture that stood like dark monoliths around the dining room table. I hear cicadas screaming with lust, pulsing waves of sound on a humid Summer day. Grandma herself, the scent of Rose water, Grandpa with his Wall Street Journal neatly folded in his lap, snoozing in his huge brown leather chair at the back of his office.

I glance at this watercolor quickly as I dress for the day, and all of that comes flooding back to me in a heartbeat, which it really was, and still is today…the beat of my heart.

Instagram Army...

May God help the man who incurs the wrath of 600,000 plus enraged young women…

As most of my FB friends know, our younger daughter, Hannah, teaches AcroYoga all over the globe. Along with her partner, Pablo, they’re currently on a tour throughout the Northeast, setting up workshops in advance before they hit the destination du jour. They sell out every stop and are greeted as mini-stars. After getting rid of almost everything they owned back in Austin, they hit the road in her little white Prius, packed with all of their remaining stuff, Hannah, Pablo, and their dog/child, Nalu. He’s a Golden Retriever whose job it is to hang out the back window, jowls flapping, trying to spot any body of water for a nice swim.

Puddle or ocean, he’s not too particular.

They spend most nights with whoever is nice enough to “host” them along the way.

It’s not that they can’t afford to pay for lodging, they always take their hosts out to a nice dinner as a “thank you” present, but it’s also a great way to connect with followers.

In the Instagram world, it’s not only about how many followers you have but also about “engagement”. As of this morning, Hannah has 623,000 followers. To put that in perspective though, Selena Gomez is the most-followed person on Instagram with more than 135.5 million followers. Here’s the difference. Most of the people who follow Selena Gomez do so simply because they know of her through TV, videos, music, and other media. So they click on “follow”. Most know nothing about her other than whatever her media handlers put out there.

“Engagement” is key. That’s what advertisers look for. How many followers interact, comment, and really know a great deal about their Instagram “influencers”?

Hannah films and posts her life, the good, the bad, and the ugly. Her followers know her, and interact online, and in person through the workshops, by playing hosts, and by spotting them out and about being real people living real lives…just like them.

Her following is mostly female, ages 14-44. They’re a passionate and fiercely loyal bunch. One of the main reasons for that is the daily “Insta stories” Hannah posts. After having lived on her own since age 15 and traveled the world for 8 years, Hannah is wise beyond her chronological age of 30. She shares her observations and life advice with her peeps. There have been many occasions when the mother of a teen girl has come up to Hannah and thanked her for the positive role model she is and the solid advice she has given their child. The yoga then helps mother and daughter bond as well. it's common ground.

So along with a large, devoted, occasionally rabid, following of young women, comes a great deal of clout. Advertisers want it and provide free stuff for the exposure…lodging, food, clothing, furniture, whatever they need, seeking the attention of that demographic.

You’ve got to play nice though, with an army like that, it’s just plain stupid to piss off the queen.

That’s exactly what one unthinking young man did. Because her account is largely female, and given the fact that Pablo is very prominent in many shots, Hannah sees little in the way of male harassment. Sure, she’s good looking and always wearing Yoga outfits, but that’s for the lifestyle, not to intentionally attract the wrong kind of attention. That’s exactly what happened with one guy in his late 20’s though. He messaged Hannah and said something to the effect of: “I would bend you over like a pretzel and f..k you silly.”

Nice talk, right?

You’re poking the wrong bear, Dude.

Hannah immediately took a screenshot of his message and posted it on her Instagram. I knew there would be young women lighting torches and running through the streets with their Lorena Bobbitt knives in no time.

The best part in shaming the young man so broadly came from a couple of girls who know him. One was the ex-roommate of the guy’s current girlfriend. She took a screenshot of his message to Hannah and showed it to her friend “so she will know what kind of man she’s dating”. Ouch!

The funniest one was from the girl who said: “I know his mom and am sending a screenshot to her. Let her see what her son is up to.”

Wow, she told his mommy on him! Sweet revenge. I couldn’t stop laughing.

I guess the moral of the story is something most men over the age of 5 already know: do not piss of women, of any age, or you WILL be sorry. When you magnify that by 623,000 rabid young women who have torches and Lorena Bobbitt knives at the ready…may God help you… or at the very least, bless your body as it is laid to rest, shamed and dick-less.

folders, flipers, automatics...

Although I’ve collected knives for most of my adult life, I didn’t get serious about it until the 1990’s.

That’s when I started to concentrate on tactical folders, with an emphasis on automatics and flippers. Custom made were the rage in those days, as manufacturing had yet to catch up to the kind of precise fittings and finish that were unique to customs back then.  

Those custom knives usually started in the $400. range and went up from there depending on materials used. Stainless Damascus, petrified bone, jeweled art pieces, all competed for shelf space on the connoisseur’s display table. But I never cared about the ornamentation, I was chasing functionality. 

These days, exacting factory tolerances have changed the knife world. Computer guided lasers make for unbeatable fit & finish at prices that are half or a quarter of what their custom counterparts were.

But sometimes, beauty and functionality are simple and hard to improve upon. Lately, my carry preference has been this Chris Reeve titanium beauty. It doesn’t mind salt water or abuse. Reeve was one of the first to introduce a frame lock instead of the liner locks that had been, and still are, so popular.

Liner locks can fail. I used to wrap my open blades in a t-shirt and try to make the locks “fail”, that is, “break” the lock, make it fold. That was possible with even a high-end custom like an all titanium Crawford liner lock I still own. It’s a $500. Knife with an unreliable lock up. Not a good thing if you were in a jam, deployed quickly, and hope to come out of a situation with all five fingers intact.

This Chris Reeve is solid as a rock; the titanium frame wouldn’t fold without being subject to more pressure than any human is capable of producing. It sits well against the body with a flat profile, the titanium is inert, unfazed by salty skin, and the grooves on the scales are deep and sharp edged, perfect for establishing an iron grip. A super hard stainless blade is among the best of the new steels available today.

In many ways, my newer, manufactured knives, hog the spotlight. They’re affordable race cars that deliver both high-end functionality and affordability, with an extreme cool factor.

That said, I’ve been carrying this Chris Reeve beauty for a few weeks now. The frame lock system it employs and the steel used have been copied for years, but this original? 

It’s simply the best at what it does.