Slidell Magazine - 72nd Edition

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THE OFFICIAL MAGAZINE OF SLIDELL

Vol. 72 July 2016

WE KEEP IT FRESH

SAY KEEP IT POSITIVE



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Editor’s Letter Kendra Maness Editor/Publisher Slidell Magazine

I’m at my computer, trying to write something poignant and uplifting to the Slidell community that will help assuage the sadness and fear caused from the recent American tragedy in Orlando. And I just can’t come up with the words. I watched the Tonight Show the Monday night after the shootings. Jimmy Fallon’s heartfelt monologue impacted me greatly. I transcribed it for you here. I hope it helps, if only a bit. “As you certainly know by now, early Sunday morning there was another senseless shooting, this time at a dance club in Orlando, Florida. A dance club. It left 49 people dead, which is the largest loss of life due to a terrorist attack on U.S. soil since 9/11.

Cover Artist

KEITH DELLSPERGER

debate, free thinking, believing – or not – in what you choose. I, as a new father, am thinking: What do I tell my kids? What do I tell them about this? What can we learn from this? What if my kids are gay? What do I tell them? Maybe there’s a lesson from all this. A lesson in tolerance. We need to support each other’s differences and worry less about our own opinions. Get back to debate and away from believing or supporting the idea that if someone doesn’t live the way you want them to live, you just buy a gun and kill them. Bomb them up. That is not okay.

I know everyone is angry right now and not really knowing how to react. But this is a time when people are looking to us as a country and how we will react.

We need to get back to being brave enough to accept that we have different opinions, and that’s okay. Because that’s what America is built on - the idea that we can stand up and speak our minds and live our lives and not be punished for that, or mocked on the internet. Or killed by someone you don’t know.

This country was built on the idea that we do not all agree on everything. That we are a tolerant, free nation that encourages

This was just one bad guy here. Forty-nine good people, and one bad guy. And there will always be more good than evil. When I think of Orlando, I think of nothing but fun and joy and families. If anyone can do it, you can.

PO Box 4147 • Slidell, LA 70459

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Kendra Maness - Editor/Publisher Editor@SlidellMag.com

Devin Reeson - Graphic Designer Graphics@SlidellMag.com

Illustrations by: Zac McGovern www.HalMundane.com CONTRIBUTING WRITERS EFOP, Charlotte Lowry Collins The Storyteller, John Case Jockularity, Corey Hogue Pet Points, Jeff Perret, DVM Crimmi-Mommly Insane, Leslie Gates Making Cents of Your Money, Mike Rich MikeRich@MyPontchartrain.com Photo Workshop, Donna Bush Donna.Bush@yahoo.com Once Upon a Time, Jacqlyn McGowan Go Beyond, Rose Marie Sand

COVER ART BY KEITH DELLSPERGER

Keep loving each other, keep respecting each other, and keep on dancing.”

SUBSCRIPTIONS: $39/YEAR MAILED TO YOUR DOOR EACH MONTH! SUBSCRIBE TODAY! www.SlidellMag.com Mary West Director of Sales MaryWest2@aol.com 504-610-1051

I know this is supposed to be an artist spotlight, telling you about the wonderful talents and classic fine art studies of Keith Dellsperger, but I just gotta write what I feel. KEITH DELLSPERGER IS SO COOL. First of all, yes, he’s got talent. Mad, crazy, silly amounts of talent. That’s why I called him a few months back and begged him to paint an original piece for this month’s cover. Last June, he helped us through the summer heat by cooling down our cover with his masterpiece, “My Little Friend” (which remains my favorite painting of all time). This July, I wanted something that would refresh our readers and give us all a respite from the July temps. What better way to cool off than our Slidell landmark, Old Town Soda Shop. The night of the big reveal, Keith and his wife Kelly (a tremendous talent in glass art) invited me to their beautiful and cool Olde Towne home. We chatted in the cool art studio while Keith painted the final touches. We retired to their cool second story deck, where we laughed, ate barbeque, and chatted easily. After dinner, we all enjoyed apple pie while Keith (who is also a very talented musical artist) played his ukelele and serenaded us from his upstairs music studio. Seriously, how cool is that?! It was a wonderful evening, and I left feeling artsy and awesome. And cool. You can see more of Keith’s artwork at his Dellsperger Studios, 1922 First Street in Olde Towne or visit his website: KeithDellsperger.wordpress.com

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JULY 2016

Extraordinarily Fascinating “Ordinary” People by Charlotte Lowry Collins

Dorothy and Rod Beehner “We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.” ~ Winston Churchill

This EFOP article is quite different from the ones you’ve grown accustomed to - for three reasons. First, our EFOP is a couple, not one individual as in the past. Secondly, they are what Habitat calls “honorary residents of Slidell”. My goal has always been to feature a living resident of our beloved hometown. In this case, the couple from Ohio is considered honorary because they are regular volunteers here in Slidell with East St. Tammany Habitat for Humanity. And third, I always strive to help my readers visualize the gestures and mannerisms of the EFOP, so you feel as if you know them. However, I met and interviewed Rod and Dorothy Beehner via telephone. When I explained my usual method, they quickly assured me, “We’re both drop dead good looking.” After a laugh they added, “Over the phone anyway!”

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So what makes the Beehners worthy of all these exceptions? Most of us had volunteers after Katrina that we still remember to this day. But how many of those volunteers decided to return for ten years, then extended their service to twice a year, every year? Read on, and you will meet these two and learn why they are still helping Slidell rebuild more than a decade after the storm.

Dorothy Beehner became intrigued when she heard that her neighbors, Eve Holland and Greg Forst, would be going to Louisiana to volunteer the year after Katrina. They were coming to represent the National Association of Realtors, and were assigned to the Slidell area. This brought back Dorothy’s feelings of horror and helplessness as she watched the ineptitude of response on TV for those stranded after Katrina. The thought of

going to volunteer with her neighbors was reassuring. Rod quickly decided he wanted to go as well. This was the Beehner’s first introduction to the East St. Tammany Habitat for Humanity. The four nieghbors started coming back every year. They quickly explained that they don’t volunteer just anywhere. Slidell is their “home away from home” according to Dorothy and Rod Beehner.


After discussing the devastation they encountered, Dorothy turned to the positive. “One good thing that came of that ineptitude played out on national media is that it strengthened our national response to traumatic events. I hope that will never happen again after a disaster in our own country. We personally came to realize how just one week of volunteering could make such a huge difference in someone’s life. If you return, you begin to see the cumulative effect once the construction is complete and turned into a home. Getting to come back the next year and see a family living in that house is so rewarding. I loved driving by and seeing bicycles in the yard and Halloween decorations on the door. But, we never feel like we do enough at the end of the week, so we’ve stretched it to two weeks.” Now, they return to Slidell twice every year, for two weeks each time, to volunteer for our community. Recalling a particularly fulfilling moment, Rod described, “On our first trip, the Construction Supervisor finally got the occupancy permit for his own home. We were able to see his children return home and become a family again, living under one roof. That was a powerful feeling.” Rod poignantly described his frustration when they had to tear out and redo the work from another group the week beforehand. “That’s a lot of labor and materials wasted, not to mention lost time for the homeowner. But I feel good knowing Rock (Habitat’s current Supervisor and job foreman) won’t let that pass. I learned to appreciate the impact the Supervisor has on the building. As an architect, I understand the importance of details when it comes to strength and integrity. It feels great to know that Rock held us to the standards he would require for his own home.” In Slidell, the Beehners focused on one family and one residence at a time. Dorothy put things in perspective when she told me about her first trip back to New Orleans after Katrina. “When we toured Chalmette and lower Ninth Ward, we were utterly shocked. Slidell has so much green space that the devastation is not as blatant as passing an orderly row of what should be houses, and most of them are destroyed.” She also shared the surprise she felt when someone in Slidell expressed extreme gratitude for water and food delivered by the Red Cross. I had to explain that New Orleans gained the media attention, whereas Slidellians believed we would have to fend for ourselves. I remember the bolt of gratitude and the tears when the first Red Cross truck brought us a lunch, waters, and ice. It meant that this place - Slidell - where the eye of Katrina passed over, mattered amidst this huge region of devastation. Just to know someone cared lifted our spirits. Especially when you saw almost no one, isolated in a string of days after days of stinky, muddy work.

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After the Beehners returned home, a coworker asked Dorothy where she volunteered. She vaguely described somewhere outside New Orleans. But this man was insistent and asked for the name of the location. Then he pulled out his photos of Slidell where he volunteered with the Red Cross one week after Katrina. He later came down and volunteered at Habitat with them. And so the group expanded, one heart at a time. Continuing her early memories, Dorothy said they had come to New Orleans for a vacation years before and loved it. “But the food was not something we embraced immediately.” They both laughed at their naivety. Rod added enthusiastically, “Over the years, we have grown to love the food.” Of course, they had few restaurants open in Slidell a year after the storm, as families had to restore their own homes first. Dorothy interjected, “Now, we can’t even get to all of our Slidell favorites on each visit.”

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One great introduction to Creole cuisine was homemade and brought to the volunteers out of gratitude. Rod quickly told a great story they share back home to this day. “We were working on a house near the dog shelter. Our friend and neighbor, Eve, met one of the dog walkers and accepted an invitation for all of us to dine with his family in their home. We were very skeptical, as we had no name, phone number or address to tell other volunteers where we would be. We joked that we were going to eat at the ‘axemurdering, dog-walkers home’, and half jokingly asked them to call police if we failed to return. Turned out, he and his wife were great cooks, and sent us back with enough food for the other volunteers. Now we are good friends and go back to see Rich and his wife every year. But we still refer to Rich as the ‘axemurdering, dog-walker,’” Rod chuckled. And Dorothy continues to share Rich’s jambalaya recipe with her Northern friends, including the story of its history, though they respectfully call it the “Dog Walker’s Jambalaya”. In June of 2014, they held a fundraising picnic on Eve and Greg’s beautiful patio. You guessed it, they served Dog Walker’s Jambalaya and other Louisiana treats, hired a band, and partied down! About 70 friends and family attended and raised $5,500 for our East St. Tammany Habitat! In addition to the ability to help, it is the great friends they meet that keeps them coming back. “We feel so safe here. In the beginning, we used hotel rooms, but then we bought a small RV. We have to pack very carefully because the space is so small. Eve and Greg, our neighbors, bought an RV, too. The RV Park owner in Slidell gives a special price as her way of donating to Habitat’s great cause. We save a lot of money, plus we can just pick up and go anywhere. All we do, after we wear ourselves out building, is shower, go eat, come back and fall dead on the bed.


Then we get up and do it all over again! We literally have Ibuprofen for breakfast while we are working in Slidell.” Rod added, “83 degrees at six in the morning is tough on us Northerners. We go home sore and stiff; but, within a couple of weeks, we start planning to come back and pound some more nails!” Rod explained that each trip is a new surprise. “We never know where we will be working. We loved building the Veteran’s house on West Hall. This year was really interesting. The two of us from Ohio and five guys from Canada were to repair a church with a small, senior population. We intended to simply replace the soffits and the siding on the back that was rotting. One thing led to another, and we discovered that animals had been living up there. There was a lot of wet insulation and black mold. While we were putting the new soffits on, we saw sparks just behind that area. It turned out there was about three inches of exposed wiring where the animals chewed off the wire insulation. They were really lucky it hadn’t burned,” Rod punctuated. “When the ladies came back, they asked who turned the lights on. It seems there had not been lighting in portions of the building for months.” Their second week this past May was “Women Build” week, which was covered extensively in Slidell Magazine. Dorothy related that it was “an eye-opening experience” for them. “There were five prominent women and their teams that worked alongside us. Often the prominent people are there for a photo op and don’t have time to do much labor themselves. But these women amazed me, working feverishly in the mud, and the heat. Habitat requested Rod and me come in for that week because Rod had experience as an architect and a cabinet builder. Most of these women had no building experience. Not only did they run power tools, but they raised enough money to almost build that house.” In fact, the 2016 Women Build for Slidell raised almost $40,000! When I expressed astonishment at the learning curve, Rod clarified, “East St. Tammany Habitat has a knack for taking newbies and getting them beyond acclimated, to actually becoming accomplished, with their skills. That is one reason we enjoy working with this particular Habitat. They are well organized and the construction crew likes the teaching aspect of their job.” Rod relayed his love for working alongside 87 year olds as well as young people. I also learned that Rod’s real forte was working with the college students who came for the Collegiate Challenge. He asserted, “These kids chose to work hard to help others instead of the stereotypical week at the beach. There was one really cohesive group that we learned had been working together for Habitat through their college in Iowa. That age tend to be real go-getters, and it’s

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fun to show them efficient techniques.” Dorothy chimed in and said, “That’s a good sign for our future, that the next generation is so empathetic. We always take the groups out for lunch so they get to enjoy the local cuisine.” When asked about their thoughts on our recent trend of raising houses, Dorothy said, “I remember seeing billboard after billboard with ads for shoring companies. But working on the roof of one is something else!” and she let out a loud “whoo” for punctuation. Then she laughed and told about overhearing some young people walking by. One of them said, “Look at that old lady working on that roof up there!” I could tell Dorothy really got a kick out of that distinction. They both assured me that they would continue to return, and looked forward to meeting me in October or November.

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At home in Ohio, the Beehner’s cats are captivated by the stingray artwork by Slidell artist, Joel Geiger

They always come back for the big Habitat art auction, “Home Is Where The Art Is”. They spend some money, and bring Slidell artwork back to Ohio. Their recent collection consists of metal sculptures by Joel Gieger, a group of stingrays swimming across their ceiling in Ohio. Because of the small size of the RV, they have to move the artwork daily from the bed to the dashboard to get it all home. As Dorothy explained, “There’s a big chunk of Slidell going across the states.” Dorothy sounded “homesick” for her home away from home as she expressed, “Slidell has a different way of life from anywhere we’ve ever travelled. The bayous and canals are just charming. My dad was born in Franklin Parish in Louisiana, so I guess I have another connection.” When asked where they might travel next, I heard that the Beehners are going to the Grand Canyon in August and to the Balloon Festival in Albequerque in October, then headed back to their beloved Slidell. They both agreed that they have a pretty good life, with a mixture of fun and hard work. Dorothy said, “That old saying that you get back more than you give through volunteering is so true. It makes everything we have seem so much more precious when you see what others go through.” As if to help me picture the scene, Dorothy spontaneously confided, “Right now, I’m holding our two cats, Rock and Wally. I’m sending you their photo because they look so cute right now.” She didn’t have to explain that Rock was named for the

Habitat Supervisor. Dorothy continued her description by saying that they were seated at a stunningly gorgeous desk made by her husband. “It is designed with three legs. He is the creative one, and I’m the grunt worker!” she said unabashedly. After her long career with the federal government, Dorothy retired as a Director for the Social Security branch. “At one time, I had thought about going back to school in Architecture, so I tried a job as ‘print boy’ to see if I would like it. Turned out I was no good at it at all, but I came away with Rod instead. On our second date, he asked me to assist him at the lumber store to buy some oak for his handmade furniture, then back to watch the Cleveland Browns on his color TV. I only had a black and white set, so I was elated. That oak was enough to create an entire bedroom set, and we still use it thirty-seven years later. We worked well together, so after I retired we transitioned into working as a team to help others.” Suddenly, through the phone came a loud cry, almost like a baby wailing. As if on cue, Rock was requesting his breakfast. Before we said goodbye, Dorothy told me that the cats are not good travelers, but they travel virtually, appearing on a window sticker on the RV. Look for them this fall, and consider working alongside them. You might be surprised by the pride you have helping those in need. You will see why Habitat for Humanity is one of Slidell’s unique organizations, with unique and caring family members like Rod and Dorothy.


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Storyteller A Very Special Button I am amazed that, as a child, my brain was stimulated enough to function at a moderate level today. I had no colorful mobile that played music and hung over my cradle. There were no dazzling color or sound machines that sharpened my senses and kicked my cognitive facilities into action. Instead, my mother held me, nursed me, talked to me, and both she and my dad sang to me. I can remember being tucked into bed. Based on the location, as I recall it, I was not yet three years old. Some will say this is impossible, but I truly believe that I can remember that far back in my life. Fast forward a very few years. Entertainment, it was simple. There were group games that we played; but that was seldom, as there were not many children that lived in close proximity. Games such as tag, hide and seek, Red Rover, and kick the can were our favorites. The common thread is that - whether we were alone or with

A set of homemade stilts – we called them Tom Walkers – was good for a weekend of fun every once and a while. As we got older, the continuing challenge was to build them taller and taller.

a group of kids - unless the weather was unfit, we played outside. The toys we invented were so simple, but they gave us hours or days of entertainment. I must have rolled a tire a thousand miles. Just an old, worn out tire, and you would see how far, how fast, and how long you could roll it. Dennis Delaney held the local record, especially for distance. He rolled it 8.2 miles up hills and down hills. He almost got hit by a truck crossing the Big Creek Bridge.

Slingshots were also a favorite. The art of making a slingshot developed as we developed. Originally, we cut a tree limb at a joint that formed a “Y”. To the ears of the “Y”, we attached strips of tire inner tubes. The leather to hold the projectile was the tongue of an old leather shoe. Eventually, we would carve a very uniform “Y” out of a piece of hardwood, attach surgical rubber tubes purchased at East Pharmacy, and then Mr. Carl at Wahl’s Shoe Shop would give us a piece of soft leather. In the place of rocks, we would go to Kees Motor Company and get all the ball bearings we could carry. These would be our new projectiles. Those slingshots were deadly and dangerous. Once, I shot a hole through the gas tank on our lawn

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mower. I promise it was an accident. We used simple items to make some sophisticated toys. An empty thread spool was a treasure. We could take two buttons, some soap as a lubricant, a rubber band, and a small stick, and make a moving cart that we could race. Of course, as our brains advanced, our engineering skills improved, and our spool carts became more complex. One of our favorite pastimes was to have tumblebug races. Now if you don’t know, a tumblebug is also known as a dung beetle. I think that is self-explanatory, but you might want to Google the creature. I know now, but did not know then, that a dung beetle can move 1100 times its own weight. That is why they were an excellent choice to pull our carts. We would take a spool and put a small stick through the center hole, allowing it to protrude about a half inch on each side. To each side of the protruding stick, we would attach a thread about six inches long. We would attach the other end of the thread to the joint between the head and the thorax of the dung beetle. You can imagine what we placed a few yards away to entice them to race. We did this for hours, or until the beetle died.

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With all the activity that occurred outdoors, my mind is drawn to a favorite activity I had on some rainy days. Those would be the days when I would stay inside, and there was no one at home but me and my mother. I was old enough by that time to not have to be watched all the time. I would say this activity started when I was about five or six. My mother had a button can. She was a product of the Depression and saved everything. You would think by the size of that can and the number of buttons it held that they were a valuable commodity; but in most cases they were just ordinary buttons removed from discarded cloths. Mother tucked them away to be used as a replacement or to adorn a homemade outfit that she would create. Most all my shirts Mother made from flour sacks, until I was in about the fifth grade. Of course, these shirts needed buttons, and the can was like a button bank. On the morbid side, when a family member died, Mother would take the clothes that were deemed too worn out to be passed along and cut the buttons off, adding them to her button can. We had buttons that were bequeathed by Aunt Emma, Aunt Tera, Cousin Austin Hill, Mrs. Glover, and too many dead neighbors to remember. Mother had a strange ability to remember where those many buttons came from. I remember one of the flour sack shirts Mother made for me when I was in the second grade. It was a pretty shirt with sailboats on it. She put the shirt on me to adjust the fittings of the buttons. I will never forget her telling me that those buttons were on Uncle Lon’s shirt, the one he was wearing when he died. I knew that he had been dead several days when they found him so I never liked wearing that shirt, even though I never knew Uncle Lon. On rainy days, I would pour out the buttons and admire their color, shape, and texture. I would imagine that a certain button had been worn on a dazzling outfit by some flapper

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during the roaring twenties. The metal buttons I would imagine were from some war hero’s uniform. One metal button had a dent in it. I imagined that it had stopped a bullet, saving some unnamed uncle’s life. Occasionally, I would make toys out of the larger buttons. I knew how to make a spinning device, we called a whilrlygig, that would entertain for hours. Then I got older, a teenager. My family was very religious and fundamental in their beliefs. If you think dancing is a hell sender, then don’t even mention gambling. Of course, that is exactly what my friends and I wanted to do. It was difficult to get into the attic of our house. Mother probably couldn’t do it, and my dad had no interest. This is where we made our (as you would say today) “boy cave”. The sin that occurred in that little cube was unbelievable. We had pinups of half-naked ladies on the wall, we had rabbit tobacco that we smoked and chewed, and corn cob pipes. We told stories about things we knew nothing about and we played cards. That little room may have been the most sinful 10-by-10 spot in Lincoln County. We used the buttons as poker chips, but not in the traditional way. We practiced so we would

be experienced if we ever got the chance to play strip poker with a live girl. We knew the order of winning, and we were getting pretty good at hiding some cards – in other words, cheating. We knew, if we got the chance, some young lady was going to get naked. Of course, we did not take off our clothes as we practiced, we used the buttons from the button can. The small buttons represented shoes; a larger button was a blouse, and so on. The larger the button, the more intimate the apparel. Finally, there was the big purple button. It was the largest and most unusual in the can.

“Yes, John, I played with them too, and I am fourteen years older than you. In fact, there was one button that always fascinated me. It so fascinated me that I picked it out of the can some twenty-plus years ago, brought it home to Baton Rouge, and I still have it.”

That large purple button had always fascinated me from the time I was six years old. On this occasion, and for the next year or so, it would represent the ultimate prize, my fantasy, my dream.

A couple of days later, I received a padded envelope in the mail. Inside that envelope was another envolope with the inscription, “The Button”. Inside that, carefully wrapped in cotton, was the button, just as I had remembered it.

Eventually, we got too old to fantasize, so we just used the buttons as traditional poker chips. Ultimately, we outgrew the thrill of the “boy cave” and returned the button can to Mother’s closet.

It may have been a “Dubonnet” button to her, but as I held it in my hand after so many years, I knew that it had been the object of my teenage obsession, the most intimate of feminine apparel from a fantasy game of my youth.

I don’t know what happened to the can, but when I decided to write this story, I called and asked my sister, Sue, if she had any memories of the buttons and the button can. I was shocked at her answer.

I could not resist, “Sue, was it a big purple button?” “Yes, yes it was, and I still have it. Actually, in those days they called the color ‘Dubonnet’. That shade was the latest fashion in the 30s. I will send it to you.”

 John Case July 2016

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The Varicose Vein Throughout History

F

ROM TIME IMMEMORIAL, people have been vexed with these things called varicose veins. The word varicose itself dates back to ancient Greece and is derived from a word meaning grapelike. Well, if you’ve ever seen someone who has a horrible cluster of varicose veins you can understand why “grapelike” is so apropos. The first description of varicose veins in a medical writing was found in the Ebers papyrus possibly dating back as far as 3,500 years ago. These ancient Egyptian healers referred to varicose veins as “serpentine windings” and go on to say that they should not be operated on because the patients would be “head to the ground.” Now, I’m not exactly sure what that meant but I think I have a pretty good idea. Hippocrates, considered the father of modern medicine, made some advances in treatment and actually talked about the use of compression wraps, something that vein doctors today find crucially important. He also believed in cautery and said, “What cannot be cured by medicaments (medication) is cured by the knife (surgery), what cannot be cured by the knife is cured with the searing iron (today: laser ablation), whatever this cannot cure must be considered incurable.” Insightful guy! The Romans, as you might expect, started to get a little more invasive with their treatments. Galen was possibly the first physician to describe phlebectomy, a procedure still used today. You must remember though, this was in the days way before anesthesia of any sort - except that which came from the vine of course! One Roman emporer who was treated for varicose veins in one leg is recorded as saying, “I see the cure is not worth the pain!” Needless to say, the other leg was not treated and the treating physician was probably thrown to the lions. It wasn’t until the twentieth century that surgical procedures became very aggressive with the advent of general anesthesia but we have found recently that being overly aggressive is not good either. Vein therapy has made tremendous advancements just over the past 10 years and the full spectrum of venous disease can be taken care of easily in the office with minimal to no down time. Unlike the Roman emporer mentioned, there is no reason not to undergo treatment for painful, unsightly varicose veins and...there should never be a reason to throw your physician to the lions!

Dr. Randall S. Juleff is a board-certified Phlebologist. His practice, La Bella Vita Laser and Vein Center, is located at 1431 Ochsner Blvd., Suite B in Covington. To learn more information about veins call 985-892-2950 or visit labellavitavein.com.

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Go Beyond

your comfort zone Story by Rose Marie Sand

The Go Beyond philosophy,

as you may remember, is about going places beyond your comfort zone. At times, that has meant something physical – like zip lining in Alaska or hiking the Grand Canyon. At times, that’s meant something adventuresome – traveling solo to Puerto Vallarta is one such example. Now, I’m trying something totally different and as out of my comfort zone as anything I’ve ever done. Some background first --- I may be the least musically talented person you know. I’ve been told I sing off-key most of my life; and I admit I don’t recognize a music key from a key for a deadbolt lock. I do love music however; my saving grace is that I remember the words to most songs. That’s been my musical contribution to the world. You see, somewhere along the way to adulthood, although I’ve never smoked and rarely drink whiskey, my voice is so low that I sound more like Leonard Cohen than Ariana Grande. Trying to sing along on the radio to Patsy Cline once resulted in strained vocal chords. Music charts look like hieroglyphics and mean about as much to my untrained eye.

A friend who’s a middle school music teacher once tried to teach me to play the recorder. Apparently, that’s entry level. In my hands, it didn’t make charming sounds to soothe anyone. I never went beyond blowing into the strange little flute despondently. So now that you’re all set up about my ineptitude – here’s the news: I’m learning to play the ukulele. 20


And I love the little thing. My goal has been to simply learn “You Are My Sunshine.” With only 3 chords, this happy song is supposed to be an easy one. Right now, it’s not so charming from my uke, but I’m getting there. I’ve taken two “formal” lessons and gotten some very helpful hints. My son, Clint, who plays a variety of instruments very well, sends me videos of himself playing his uke for me to play along with. In fact, it was Clint who gifted me with my first ukulele. I have told him to “dumb it down” as much as he can on these videos, and he encourages me daily. Sometimes I’ve been brave enough to send him a video of my progress in mastering “Sunshine.” I’m also learning “Amazing Grace” - a song with four chords – no kidding! I learned a bit about my new favorite instrument. The ukulele is a member of the lute family and it has only four strings. Originating in the 19th century as a Hawaiian adaption of a Portuguese instrument, the ukulele has experienced quite a resurgence in population in recent years. Far, far removed from Tiny Tim’s 1968 version of “Tiptoe Through The Tulips” is Jake Shimabukuro – check out his amazing sound, which is a combination of traditional Hawaiian sounds, modern rock and improvised passages. And if you haven’t heard Iz Kamakawiwoʻole play “Somewhere over the Rainbow,” stop reading this instant and listen to it on YouTube.

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Although inspired by Shimabukuro and Iz, Ukulele Mike’s introductory YouTube videos are my go-to lessons. I find ones marked “easy,” although sometimes even they plumb abate me. I’ve had a blast plinking along with some other beginners who want to learn together. We’re a combination of former guitarists (thank goodness for Eneida, our best strummer), and people who take their pretty little instruments out of the box the first time, learn to tune them, and join in. We’re all sort of in ukulele pre-school level and progress together. The most treasured thing about my little blue ukulele is that my son gave it to me at a time when I needed something to focus on. I can spend hours working on strumming patterns. I visualize where my fingers go for the chords on my steering wheel while I’m driving (safely, I promise). I create something that sort of sounds like music. I’m sharing this Going Beyond story, because I believe that doing something, anything, challenging and even kind of silly can help relieve stress and sharpen concentration and soothe the soul. I have no intention of going beyond playing in my living room, but making music has helped me reach out and find the sunshine. 21


Of Your Money By Mike Rich, CFP® Pontchartrain Investment Management

Four money tips for the young folks in your life. The beautiful family you see in the picture here is my son, Michael, his wonderful wife, Lacey, and their gorgeous little girl, Posey Jane. Michael is a sales rep for a wine distribution company, and Lacey is a stay-at-home mom, who also makes embroidered children’s accessories and sells them through her Internet business. I’m not an objective commentator, but I think Posey Jane has it made. She has two loving parents, a safe and secure

home, and an extended family that would do anything humanly possible for her well-being. All kids should have it that good. If you have grandchildren or young children, you already know how incredible they are and what an amazing blessing it is to watch their minds, skills, and personalities develop and grow. As a Certified Financial Planner™, I think a lot about all of the things I want to tell Posey Jane about how life works, about goals, dreams, and successes, and about the dignity of the hard work needed to get there. I especially want her to know the security that only a sound and carefully thought-out financial life can bring. I hope I’m still around when it’s time for Posey Jane to start working toward the goals of building and protecting her wealth, but, in case I’m not, here’s what I want to tell her: 1) Spend less, save more. A lot more.

GAIN YOUR FINANCIAL INDEPENDENCE

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For you, Posey Jane, as it is for most of us, wealthbuilding will happen over a long period of time. It’s not fast and it’s not magic, it’s just math. Try this: when you get your first real job, start by investing $1825 per year. That’s $5 a day. Increase your rate of saving by 5% each year. Do it for 40 years. If you get an average rate of return of 8% per year, you’ll have a big wad of cash, about $964,000.1 It doesn’t happen overnight, you have to be consistent, and it helps a lot if you have an advisor to help you manage risk. No matter the amount of money you have to work with, practically anyone can use this strategy. 2) Protect what you have and what’s to come.

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Securities and advisory services offered through LPL Financial, a registered investment advisor, member FINRA/SIPC.

We’re talking insurance, sweetie, and I know it’s BORING, but bear with me. Most insurance works slow and steady: you pay a little over a long period of time to have access to money to protect yourself, your family, and your assets. And, in some cases, you can even build assets while you protect them. The good news is that you’ve already started on this one. You don’t know this (and probably wouldn’t care if you did), but you have a life insurance policy that not only provides a death benefit,


it builds cash value, too. It’s called permanent life insurance, and it can be an important financial tool. The premiums you pay are guaranteed to remain the same for the life of the policy, regardless of your age or health. The investment component accumulates cash value, and, once the interest and dividends2 are credited to your policy, that money belongs to you. Believe me, it will come in handy when you’re older. Plus, you now have guaranteed insurability for life, no matter what happens to your health. That alone is worth its weight in gold. My guess is that someday you’re going to thank me for this. 3) Start early on a retirement plan for your later years. If you could talk, Posey, you might be saying something like “Poppy, what’s a retirement plan?” Well, my sweetness, it works like this. You don’t have a job yet, but, when you get one, ask yourself this question: “When I’m no longer working, will my basic living expenses be covered completely by guaranteed income?” If the answer is “I don’t know”, then you need a retirement plan, and it must be guaranteed. Given the miserable prospects for the health of Social Security, my guess is that you – and most of the kids you are going to grow up with – are going to need a reliable source of cash flow to supplement or replace the government’s program. “Reliable source” means money that never runs out for as long as you live. Since you are not likely to have an employer pension, you can build a source of income by using a fixed annuity.3 And, since you probably won’t have a lump sum of money to get started, consider funding your annuity over time by making regular contributions. 4) Posey Jane, money is a tool. It is a means to an end, but not an end in itself. I hope you have all the money you need, but don’t let it rule your life. So, even though I want you to work toward the goals of investing, protecting, and guaranteeing your money, I want you to enjoy it, too, and give some of it to people who can’t do for themselves. For sure, Posey Jane isn’t ready yet to listen to my advice, but my hope is that the day will come, and I’m going to do my best to make sure that she is among the relative handful of Americans who make a commitment to pursuing financial independence. If you’d like to learn how to do the same thing for your grandchildren, your children, or even yourself, call me. I’M NOW ON THE RADIO! Listen for my advertisement on The Bridge Radio, 88.7FM This is a hypothetical example and is not representative of any specific situation. Your results will vary. The hypothetical rate of return used does not reflect the deduction of fees and charges inherent to investing. Investing involves risk, including loss of principal. 1

Dividends, if any, are not guaranteed. Guarantees are based onthe claims paying ability of the issuing company. 2

Annuities are long-term investment vehicles designed for retirement purposes. Gains from tax-deferred investments are taxable as ordinary income upon withdrawal. Guarantees are based on the claims paying ability of the issuing company. Withdrawals made prior to age 59 ½ are subject to a 10% IRS penalty tax and surrender charges may apply. 3

Securities and Advisory Services offered through LPL Financial, a Registered Investment Advisor, Member FINRA/SIPC. The opinions voiced in this material are for general information only and are not intended to provide specific advice or recommendations for any individual.

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in

Slidell

MOVIES 8 Story by Jacqlyn McGowan

Prelude: Ah, July in Louisiana. The white hot haze of summer in the south. The sticky, humid season that lasts considerably longer than any season ever should. While many people enjoy this time of year for all of the activities that are available, the truth of the matter is some days it is just TOO HOT to be outside. On those inevitable days, when simply walking outside is enough to make you start sweating, not much rivals the cool, dark allure of a movie theater. Where Planet Fitness now stands once was the home of the first installment of what became Tim O’Neil’s local legacy, “The Movies 8.”

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Do you remember Slidell in the mid-1970’s, before teens hung out at the mall? Young teenagers were not yet old enough to go to bars or clubs, so the movie theater was the next best choice. The only other options for social gatherings in the Slidell area at that time were the bowling alleys on Pontchartrain Drive and the Comet Roller Rink on Hwy 190 headed toward Lacombe. Movie goers were not exclusively teens, but they were the great majority of the business. Excited for the start of the weekend and glad to escape the mugginess of the summer climate, hundreds of teens piled in on Friday evenings, greeted by the cool comfort of the A/C. The smell of fresh popcorn filled the air causing mouths to water. They huddled around the black payphone, making calls to find out how many friends would be joining them. Jocks strutted around in letterman jackets or leaned confidently against the textured wallpaper. The Movies attracted teens for over three decades. Farrah Fawcett feathered-hair girls

and bell-bottomed boys came and went, as did the teens of the Miami Vice and Flashdance fashion trends. (We all remember with horror the mullets and the big, permed hair... uuuugh.) For 35 years, The Movies was THE place in Slidell to see the latest in film and fashion. A MOVIE EMPIRE IS BORN Before starting his modest theater, there was no way for Tim O’Neil to know just how big his little local legacy would become. Originally from Massachusetts, Mr. O’Neil found his way down to Slidell, living here while he worked as an engineer at NASA’s Michoud Assembly Facility. In 1972, a friend proposed a business opportunity with the American Automated Theaters franchise. Mr. O’Neil flew to Oklahoma to check it out, and he liked what he saw. All he needed to be a theater owner was pay the franchise fee and sign a lease with the Northside Plaza shopping center, and the franchise company did the rest. Little did Mr. O’Neil know, the franchise would not provide much help and his little project would be a hard fought and won battle of business skills and entrepreneurship.


“The Movies” opened in 1974, after two years of construction. It was a twin cinema, which was a pretty big deal at the time. Most theaters were just singles, and having two theaters in one location was a new trend in high demand by theater-going audiences. His only direct competition in Slidell was the Tammany Theater on Pontchartrain Drive. (The Carmike Cinema next to Northshore Square Mall wasn’t built until almost ten years later.) Still working at Michoud, Mr. O’Neil started with evening shows and matinee weekend shows. The first movies ever shown at the new theater? Electra Glide in Blue starring Robert Blake and Serpico starring Al Pacino. After two successful years in business, Mr. O’Neil added a third theater, which was the empty warehouse next door. As Mr. O’Neil recalls, he was bidding big dollars against Tammany Theater for the rights to show Jaws (the competing theaters were not allowed to have the same movies showing). The movie was usually awarded to the highest bidder, but Tammany could seat more, and was awarded the mega blockbuster. Mr. O’Neil began construction shortly thereafter and completed just in time for the 1976 blockbuster King Kong. He recalls, “I was hanging the curtains in the new theater and the employees came to me and said that I’d better come see outside. They said people were lined up around the block. I didn’t believe them until I went outside and saw people everywhere!” He laughs, “We were showing Carrie, Rocky, and King Kong, all at the same time. Who knew they would be so popular?” Tickets were priced at $1.50 for adults and 75¢ for kids. Tuesday nights were only a dollar. Some customers came back numerous times for the opportunity to watch the same movies over and over without breaking the bank. On these nights, the lines were overwhelming, but Mr. O’Neil showed his appreciation for his customers by waiting outside in the parking lot with them, sometimes for hours! Eventually, and unwillingly, he was forced to comply with the franchise and film industry’s demands to cease discount night due to a decline in profits. His care for his customers was evident in many ways. To this day he regrets turning away a woman who could not afford to pay for her ticket. “She placed a dollar in the ticket window, and I told her ‘Well, ma’am, it’s two dollars’ and she got a shocked look on her face, grabbed her dollar and walked away.” He recounted, “I always remembered that because I thought I should have let that woman in the theater! I knew she couldn’t afford any more than that. That’s always impacted me.” He attempted to assuage his guilt over that situation by helping another. “This young fella, a little overweight, was standing at the ticket counter. I knew he didn’t have any more money, and I said, ‘What’s wrong son, you want some candy? You want that big Nestle?’” Mr. O’Neil gave the candy bar to the boy, making his day. Mr. O’Neil explains about the high prices associated with going to the movies. “It’s such a wonderful couple hours of entertainment. I know the popcorn and Coke are expensive,

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but the film is so expensive. If you didn’t have those prices on the popcorn and Coke, you couldn’t make it! Over 50% went back to the film companies. Back then, it was 70% for the first three weeks. Now it’s just 68% across the board, concessions included.” THE MOVIES STYLE The memorable theater design was predetermined and set by the owning franchise. The red and black color scheme and wrought iron railings really elicited the feel of a classic opera house (or brothel, honestly). Some of the walls were adorned with wallpaper that had an embossed velvet/ corduroy pattern and was fuzzy to the touch. In another room, the wallpaper was decorated with sepia toned cameo images of movie stars from long ago. Upon entering the dark cloak of any one of the theaters, the smell of popcorn faded in comparison to the musty smell common in rooms that don’t get much ventilation. The floors were sticky from years of Coke spills that just couldn’t be mopped enough. With every step, you could hear both the crunch of leftover popcorn and the sticky suction of your shoes. Ushers would patrol the aisles during the show to make sure people weren’t throwing food; but despite their best efforts, some kids still succeeded in sticking gummy bears to the screen. Walking down a ramp on the way out of the older section of the theater, huge wooden placards hung on the wall displaying posters from classic movies, such as Frankenstein, Gone with the Wind, Black Cat, and Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. After becoming “Movies 5”, the layout was a bit odd, with a theater to the left, one to the right, one all the way down the hall in the back, and two next to the concessions. The former corner entrance was forfeited when the final three theaters were added, making it “Movies 8.” About 4 feet up a steep set of brick stairs, the concession stand offered all of the typical cinema goodies, from popcorn and sodas, to pickles and candy bars. Sneaking in movie snacks in a purse or pocket was made easy with Eckerd’s Drug Store next door. When forced to endure lengthy lines, which frequently wrapped around the corner of the building, you could shop both TG&Y and Eckerd’s to find your stash. Wax bottles, candy cigarettes, Now and Laters, Sugar Daddies, and Sugar Babies sold there could save you a buck, or ten. Candy necklaces were also a big thing to take to the show, because they were just a part of your outfit walking into the theater, and became a snack once you were seated. After the show, the nearby Burger King and McDonald’s on Gause, next door to each other just a few blocks away, were hot spots.

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Before social media was even thought of, The Movies was a great place to meet people from another part of town. At this time, it was rare for kids to know people, much less have friends, from a rival school. It was also a great place to secretly hang out (and make out) with your boyfriend or girlfriend. Underaged teens also were known to sneak into the “R” rated films, ducking the surveillance of movie attendants and managers (“PG-13” had not yet been created).


Another popular thing - having your parents drop you off at the front, then sneaking out the back of the theater to cruise Gause. You could get in a good hour or more of cruising before returning back to the theater just as the movie let out and your parents pulled up! Just because going to The Movies was popular doesn’t mean it was easy to find out what was showing. Long before the internet, you had two options: you could check the newspaper to see the schedule, or you could call the theater show line to hear what was playing. Sometimes, you’d get a busy signal twenty or more times before you finally got through. And, in the days of rotary phones, this was quite a task.

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During the 80’s arcade game craze, the side of the theater was filled with games like Gallaga and Zaxxon. If you were good enough, you could leave your initial on the Top Scores screen to show off to your friends. Going to the movies wasn’t just fun for the paying customers, some people GOT PAID to have fun - the employees! After the inventory was checked, cash was carefully counted (they worked with calculators because they didn’t have cash registers), the building was cleaned, and food was safely put away, going to work really just meant getting paid to hang out with friends. Employees loved Thursday night movie screenings, because they got to test the movie before the Friday night premier. The movies came in on big reels, and had to be spliced together by hand using special tape. Thursday night screenings ensured the job was done properly and the movie would premier flawlessly the next night. If ever the film messed up, they had to spin the reel by hand! Several employees of The Movies have kept in touch over the years, developing friendships and relationships that are still strong to this day. As a matter of fact, in researching for this story, we learned that Slidell Magazine’s popular cover artist, Matt Litchliter, met his wife when they were both working there. And SIX of their groomsmen were fellow Movies employees!

1736 Gause BLVD. Suite 16 Slidell, LA 70461 (985) 201-7415 Hours: tues - sat 10a - 6p

Over 12 Years of Experience

One employee loved working for O’Neil Theaters so much, it altered the entire course of his career. In May of 1974, when he was 20 and looking for a summer job, Rick Otis was hired on to The Movies staff via a friend who knew the O’Neil family. He worked as a custodian until moving up to operator. With this promotion, he received a generous pay raise from $45 a week to $80 a week. Rick loved his job so much that, even after graduating from UNO with a degree in English, he turned down several teaching job offers to stay with O’Neil Theaters. Rick maintained his position in the company for 34 years until all theaters shut down in 2008.

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Starting as a Twin Cinema in 1974, The Movies quickly expanded to three theaters after losing the bid on the summer blockbuster “Jaws” in 1975. From there, the theater expanded to The Movies 5 and finally, The Movies 8.

audience received a refund and left without seeing the movie)...and one mischievous visitor set bats free inside the building. There were times, however, when a bit of chaos was both expected and relished: big movie premieres. We all remember the hype over big hits like King Kong and Star Wars, and the lines wrapped around the building on Tuesday discount night, but there were several movies that drew significantly larger crowds than what was normal, some even larger than the theater could handle. A surprising and unexpected golden goose was the nature documentary The Wonder of it All; it drew such an immense audience that it left the employees totally bewildered. Who ever said a documentary couldn’t be captivating? Other notable blockbusters were The Towering Inferno and Saturday Night Fever. It shouldn’t come as much surprise that O’Neil Theaters’ highest grossing film of all time was the romantic epic Titanic.

“It just wouldn’t quit!” Mr. O’Neil recalls. “It opened just before Christmas and ran clear through the following summer!” On several occasions, the audience turnout exceeded theater capacity. That happened with the release of E.T. in 1982, which proved to be a pivotal moment for the success of The Movies. It became imperative to hire more workers, separate the concession and ticket booth, and start expanding into more locations. The growth of the business was imminent. Mr. O’Neil began expanding, opening theaters throughout the Gulf South. At the peak of business, O’Neil Theaters was ranked 22nd in the nation, made front page at the box office, and Tim O’Neil himself was named one of the Giants of the Industry by a leading industry publication. He owned 20 theaters in 8 states - Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Florida, Texas, Tennessee, Georgia, Connecticut. One of his theaters in Atlanta won an award for its architecture. A hard worker himself, Mr. O’Neil valued employees with good work ethic who did a job well, no matter how small. For those who impressed him, he promised growth

within the company, promoted those who started with him, and provided on the job training. He always kept his promises, and was very sincere about working together like a family. Everyone enjoyed generous bonuses, Christmas parties, recognitions and awards, and even company cars were provided to some members of his management team. Mr. O’Neil loved being part of the Slidell community too. He owned Second Story, the lounge in Olde Towne, and coached The Movies little league baseball team in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s. He had his own beautiful home designed and built off of Robert Blvd in Slidell, and loved the area so much, he built more houses around it! He was a movie lover and an actor too, playing the lead in several Slidell Little Theater productions: South Pacific, Man of La Mancha, 1776, and Kiss Me Kate. He was a hard worker who was driven by accomplishment, and more than willing to get his hands dirty building many of the theater additions himself. “I had no fear of failure because I believed in what I was doing. To me, I was just working hard, and I thank God I was able to do it.” The Movies 8’s leaky roof was a reflection of hard times and damages done by Hurricane Katrina. The film companies had changed the way the movie business functioned and it became financially impossible for Mr. O’Neil to keep his theaters running. After 35 years, The Movies closed its doors for good, along with all of the O’Neil Theaters. Now 83, Mr. O’Neil enjoys singing in the choir at his church, his children and grandchildren, and all of the perks of being a retired former business owner. While his business is now a thing of the past, his legacy will be remembered for generations. The Movies helped shape the lives of the many who worked there and created so many memories for all of us in Slidell.

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The Fourth of July, Independence Day. It is a day to remember when we became more than a collection of colonies and what we have done since then to maintain that independence. As a result of the history America has been through, American patriotism has fostered powerful emotions for generations. Which is why July 4th is such an important American tradition. Speaking of American traditions, what is more American than baseball? Baseball is the Chuck Norris of sports because, while every other sport is taking a break, baseball is the only major sport in America that has the chance to celebrate America’s biggest holiday, maybe make some sports history, and karate chop summer boredom. However, with football and basketball capturing more viewership and sponsorship dollars, baseball has taken more of a backseat to the biggest

sports in the country. So, what makes this sport still have the power to retain its title as “America’s Pastime”? Well, it starts with America itself and the history we share. America has been through some really tough times. World Wars, economic lows, natural disasters, and all sorts of crazy historical madness. One of the most consistent things during most of our history as Americans has been baseball. Starting in 1876, baseball has helped us to find some peace from almost every catastrophic event in U.S. history. We were lucky enough to have stars like Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig help us through the Great Depression and the beginning of World War II. It is incredible to know that Jackie Robinson and Willie Mays were there before the Civil Rights movement showed that color does not matter in sports.

Baseball has been there for us through some really hard times, to be sure. But the sport has also been there to help shape America’s youth into the great Americans we have today. With hundreds of thousands of backyard games with friends, little leagues, and high school teams, it’s plain to see that baseball is readily available to our youth. Not to mention it has been so ingrained into our culture with books, movies, art, and even food being affected by this sport. Movies like Field of Dreams, The Sandlot, A League of Their Own, and Moneyball not only show the great sport of baseball and the different lives it can touch, but also how it fits so closely into our culture. Those movies have made a difference in the cinematic world, not to mention society. Having said that, there is so much more to baseball than the culture it influences.

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The culture it fosters is also what makes it such a patriotic tradition. Think about when you go to a ball game. The atmosphere is its own world. From the time you step into the ball park, you smell the barbecue, you hear the crowds settling in, you see the warm-ups on the field. There are hot dogs and nachos and slapping your neighbor on the back because of a good play. You cheer the good hits and boo the umpire. You get excited when a home run is knocked out of sight or a base is stolen, while still having plenty of time to sit and enjoy a conversation with a fellow fan. The sound of peanuts crunching underfoot, kids running around with gloves and oversized baseball hats, dodging incoming foul balls, and the seventh inning stretch are all parts of a good baseball experience. It is that experience that endears it to all of us. Being at a game truly mirrors some of the best traits of living in the USA. On a side note, one of my favorite things about baseball is that the rivalries are historic, but not disruptive. Outside of the Boston and New York rivalry, baseball rivalry isn’t as intense as other sports. Even on the college level, there is so much more mutual respect than in basketball or football. If you ask me, that has to do with the relaxed nature of baseball. As a result, tempers don’t flare nearly as high as they do in football, hockey, and basketball. There is a more friendly rivalry atmosphere than the sometimes obnoxious jeering one might get in other sports. While we are on the topic of other sports vs. baseball, with all of the attention paid to other sports, it is easy to make the

You can call up your father, say “let’s go catch a ball game” and 12 calls and 36 text messages later, there is a family reunion at Zephyr field. Everyone can come to the field. Not only is it easy to enjoy the game but it is easy to work in the baseball industry. Athletes of all shapes and sizes have a part to play in baseball. This all-inclusive ability of baseball just makes it fit that much more into the American way of life.

argument that baseball is no longer the focal point in America. But that argument is only possible because there are so many different baseball teams in America, including college, MLB, and minor league teams. The sport may feel almost over-saturated but it still commands a large audience. What baseball has accomplished, by creating a regional-based structure as opposed to a national structure, means that fans can appreciate the Yankees and Red Socks, but also love the Astros, Marlins, and Braves. Football would not last if it was in almost every state. Basketball has sometimes struggled with being so vast with so many games. Baseball’s integration into American culture allows it to become more local and stay profitable at the same time. I can’t think of anything that has integrated itself so deeply and stayed so relevant. Well, except Jockularity. I love how easy it is to catch a baseball game. Whenever a season is going on, it is not difficult to get a ticket to a game close by. If the football season is going on, you have to know a guy who knows a guy who has a ticket they pawned off of someone.

Considering all of this, baseball is and will always be known as America’s pastime. And there are many reasons why. It is part of a cultural and historical backbone that makes America unique in the world. The sport is unique in that Americans are encouraged to come together and have a good time watching a game, despite differences between favorite teams and players. Baseball has helped us stomach destructive wars and many political changes, sometimes severe economic downturns and devastating natural disasters. Its ability to accept anyone and everyone to watch, play, and work makes it uniquely suited to the American way. There is no doubt that it will be there to support us for a long time. And it’s resilience, good nature, fun time, and saturation into all levels of our culture mirrors the spirit of America perfectly. On this July 4th, we celebrate years of being the best country in the world, through fighting for our rights and enjoying our freedoms. I can think of no better way to celebrate our freedom than by watching the one sport that has been with us through thick and thin for a long time. Happy Independence Day, and I hope all of you enjoy a good game soon.

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Back to School A Look at Photo Workshops Story by Donna Bush

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Photo by Cyndy Strickland


I’ve

been photographing nature for 20+ years. I attended a couple of photo workshops early on, read a lot, joined photography clubs and studied photos taken by my favorite photographers. I learned much from hanging out with like-minded peers. I’ve always attended conferences such as North American Nature Photography Association (NANPA) and my outdoor communication conferences – Louisiana Outdoor Writer Association (LOWA) and Southeastern Outdoor Press Association (SEOPA). But, it has been a long time since I attended a multi-day workshop that solely took place to enhance my skills and make me a better landscape photographer. I originally started shooting landscapes since I only had a single 1870mm lens. Gradually, as I added to my lens collection, I moved my focus to almost entirely wildlife. I still shot some scenics but they became more snapshots to capture a sense of place rather than the serious stuff of lions, bears, alligators and birds. So, when my Alaska photo friend Cathy Hart called to say Michael DeYoung was offering a landscape photography workshop in Zion National Park, I jumped at the opportunity. I’ve known Michael for a number of years, having met in Alaska and at several NANPA conferences over the years. In my mind, he is one of the premier landscape photographers. I even convinced a local artist friend and budding photographer, Carolyn, to attend when there was a last minute cancellation. I visited Zion twice over 20 years ago, but Cathy had never been there and said she wanted to be surprised and amazed by everything she experienced. That’s a great attitude to take, but anyone who knows me, knows that I like to be fully prepared for anything that might come up. I had plenty of clothes, maybe too many. Cathy had to buy long pants in the park. The temperatures are misleading, rising to the high 80’s during the day and easily dropping to the 30’s or lower for sunrise and sunset, with a persistent breeze and even a rain shower. Long pants and closed-toe shoes are needed to protect your feet and legs from cactus spines, which have a way of reaching out and grabbing you when you are in the midst of taking the best photo ever.

Up at 3:30am Friday to catch a flight to Las Vegas, where Carolyn and I would meet up with Mike Stearns and Cathy for our drive to Springdale, Utah - gateway city to Zion National Park. We all agreed that flying in a day early to give ourselves time to acclimate was the right thing to do. Having taken a lighting workshop from Michael years ago and stayed at his and

We hope you enjoy this installment from award-winning outdoors photographer and writer, Donna Bush. Inspired by life... Curiosity seeker...Inviting all Slidell Magazine readers to join her.

Lauri’s home in Taos, NM, I knew he had a never-ending source of energy. He’s exactly like the Energizer bunny! The 6-day workshop would begin on Saturday afternoon and end at noon on Thursday. Arriving in Springdale around 2pm Friday would give us lots of time to relax, recover from the early morning flights and adjust to an altitude about 4000 feet higher than home. You’ve heard the saying about “the best laid plans...”? We decided to hook up with Michael and Lauri for dinner Friday evening to catch up. Over salads and pizza at Pizza and Noodle, Michael suggests, “Let’s go shoot in the morning! We’re not an official commercial workshop so we don’t have the 100 feet off the road limitation.” And just like that, our rest, relaxation and acclimation went out the window. All in all, it wasn’t so bad. We woke up at a civilized hour of 5:30am to meet up for 6:30am. We weren’t shooting sunrise, otherwise we would have been up much earlier! We hiked around the Checkerboard Mesa area on the east side of the park where beautiful pools were carved out of the sandstone, collecting water and, since it was springtime, mating frogs! We kept the altitude change to a minimum amount and even that had us out of breath. Afterwards, a late breakfast and checkout of our onenight hotel in preparation for our move to our workshop lodging, Nama-stay - a beautiful vacation home that sleeps 8 with

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a full kitchen, combined with a spacious den for our lectures and critiques. Of course, the name Nama-stay immediately resonated with my yoga teacher side, not to mention the gorgeous furnishings directly in line with my yoga! (The term Namaste is a respectful Sanskrit greeting used in yoga classes.) The owners of our lodging are Catrin and Jonathan, who share a love of life, nature and a love-story as beautiful as their spirits. Catrin, originally from the Swiss Alps, met Jonathan in 1996 on a trip to the US. Even though her English was limited, there was an immediate connection that transcended the distance and the language differences. Staying in touch via email, when Catrin invited Jonathan to visit, he wasted no time catching a flight. In 2001, the happy couple moved to Utah, purchasing Nama-stay in 2002. Jonathan grew up in New Jersey, worked as a finance guy on Wall Street before finding his true loves – Catrin and the mountains. Today he has his own guide business, Zion Guru, offering canyoneering, outfitting, tours and workshops. Their eleven-year-old son, Massimo, joins in on the photography, canyoneering and even shares his love of cooking with guests. Located a block off of the main street, the home has a remote feeling, surrounded by horse pastures and forest with a sunrise view of the West Temple formation. Our group of four was joined by Tammy, a horse owner from Missoula Montana, her roommate Kim from Boise Idaho, also a horse owner, and Cyndi and Roxanne from Anchorage. We kicked off our first day with a lecture, “Introduction to Zion: Seeing and Thinking Creatively Through Better Photography” including equipment recommendations, tips and techniques. Our first shoot was sunset of Mount Kinesava, allowing us to try some of the new tips we had just learned. A late night for our first start, followed by an early morning for a sunrise shoot of West Temple from behind the Human History Museum on the west side of the park. As with anything new, sometimes you have to make a few attempts before the skills actually show through or even before you get the real hang of using them. At least that’s what a few of us decided. Our sunrise shoot didn’t provide the best lighting on the mountains but then that is what photography is all about. Patience and waiting for the light. A short ride on the Zion shuttle brought us to the trailhead for Weeping Rock. We walked along the Virgin River, photographing views of formations Great White Throne and the backside of Angel’s Landing, one of the most famous (and dangerous) hikes in the park. The brighter sun gave us ample opportunities to experiment with our split neutral density filters, a technique that I’ve never really utilized. This filter is terrific for evening-out the light on a bright sunny day. It is split with the bottom half of the filter


clear and the top half slightly opaque, allowing you to darken the sky and even out the light. PHOTO TIP: Don’t buy the screw on neutral density filter. It is basically useless. Instead, buy a filter holder, an adapter ring to fit your lens diameter and a neutral density filter from 1-3 stops, depending on how much you want to darken the sky. After a late breakfast, we have time for importing photos, editing and our first critique. Time to see what we’ve learned and been able to apply in the field. We must choose our best 6 shots. Hard to do, when you shoot 400-600 or more in one day! I’m sure Kendra, my editor, will appreciate my having to limit my submission for critique to 6 photos!! I even teased Michael, “I’ll give you the same number I give my editor when I can’t narrow down my selection. I’ll give you everything!” More lecture about composition, which is an area that many people struggle with. Our lesson: Identify what you like most visually and find a way to emphasize it. Don’t try to include too much. Less is more! Michael’s Photo Tip: Three Components to a Great Image 1. Great Subject 2. Great Conditions or Background 3. Great Light

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After critique, we venture out to Kolob Terrace Road to photograph cactus flowers followed by a sunset shoot of Tabernacle Dome with Guardian Angels and West Temple in the distance. PHOTO TIP: Always check your camera bag before you leave for a shoot. Make certain that you have memory cards, charged batteries and, most importantly, a camera with lens! Excited to photograph the beautiful blooming cactuses we’ve been observing, we learn that cactus blooms close at night and reopen in the morning. In her haste and excitement, my photo buddy and roommate, Cathy, forgot to put her camera into her backpack. Our shoot tonight is about a 45-minute ride from our lodge and Cathy is extremely upset with herself. We are the only Nikon shooters. I offer to swap memory cards back and forth and we will both shoot with my camera body and lenses. Cathy and I make it work and both learn a little bit of patience during the process. Another late night followed by an early morning sunrise shoot. Did I mention that this workshop was nonstop? This sunrise provides better lighting than the previous days plus a couple of mule deer that decided to saunter in front of us. I know we are in a landscape workshop; but hey, this is wildlife, my favorite! Finished with sunrise, we take the Zion shuttle to Court of the Patriarchs, a collection of peaks known individually as Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. We took an easy walk along the Virgin River to get shots of the peaks and reflections in the water. We

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Photo by Donna Bush

were treated to a male and female turkey wandering riverside; or more appropriately, the female rushing away and the male quickly following, puffing his chest and displaying his fanned tail. More wildlife! We return to town for a late breakfast/early lunch of yummy crepes at Meme’s Café. Then we hopped the park shuttle just as a rain shower hit, enticing most tourists to leave the park. Our timing was perfect! The rain stopped just as we reached our departure point. We meandered and photographed riverside towards the Narrows, appropriately named, as it is the narrowest part of Zion Canyon. The gorge has walls 1000 feet in height and a width in some places of twenty feet or less. It is one of the most spectacular slot canyons and was on our list of photographic hikes until a warm spell hit causing massive snow melt in higher elevations that pushed the water flow above a safe level. Unfortunately, the water stayed high for the duration of our workshop and past that until those of us who extended our trip had left. 38

More wildlife, as fox squirrels along the trail beg for snacks. We round a curve in the trail and encounter a health nut squirrel actually eating some type of native grass. This evening we are treated to Jonathan and Catrin driving us on a 4- wheeling adventure in their Mercedes Sprinter van for spectacular sunset views and photos at Wire Mesa. I’m invited to sit in the front seat as Jonathan drives his luxury van on the most amazing terrain as we climb up and over massive boulders. I ask Jonathan about his guiding and learn more about the spirit behind this man. He is inspired to share his love of mountains, canyoneering, hiking, biking and all nature with his clients. He was injured years ago in a tragic biking accident and advised that he would never climb again. He has definitely turned that around to a positive! We climb to the top and are surprised to see how many other people are in this remotest of places. We find a cute couple camping for four days, that I surmise are on their honeymoon!

We take turns striking our best yoga poses on a rock strategically balanced on the edge of the ridge, some of us hanging off the edge and others nowhere near. As wildlife photographers for years, Cathy and I have on our boring, drab-colored clothing, as does Carolyn. Tammy, Kim, Cyndy and Roxanne all wear bright colors – pink, orange, violet and fluorescent green. Roxanne shares her bright pink vest with us to enhance our photos. I vow to add more bright colors to my wardrobe! The laughter is infectious, with Michael joining in giving us tips on posing our models. Even Catrin models for us! What a great group we have for this workshop. Another late night! We skip sunrise due to the weather forecast and a decision to hike Angel’s Landing (or as far as any of us decide to go). This hike is 2.4 miles one way with a steep elevation change of 1500 feet. Anyone with a fear of heights or shaky balance should stay away from Angel’s. The trail begins with several steep and


strenuous switchbacks. Luckily, there are lots of flowers to photograph along the way, meaning lots of breaks! It’s a good thing too, because my flower photography blossomed (pun intended) tremendously on this trip. The trail levels out for a bit as we get into Refrigerator Canyon, before we reach Walter’s Wiggles, a set of short, steep switchbacks as we slowly climb to the top of the ridge above the canyon. Ahhh! We arrive at Scout’s Lookout, providing a beautiful view of the canyon and Angel’s Landing, which is another 500 feet of elevation gain along an exposed spine of the mountain with sheer drop-offs on both sides. There are chains, installed in the 1930’s, anchored into the mountain walls as an aid during the climb. My fear of heights made me decide it was best for me to stop at Scout’s. After all, a few people have died trying to do this. Carolyn wisely turned back before reaching Walter’s Wiggles. Cathy, Mike and I enjoyed our view and a visit with friendly chipmunks as they begged for handouts. The rest of our group made it all the way to the top. Tammy confided that it was tough for her and that she could not let herself look below. I confided that I couldn’t afford the air rescue if I made it to the top but couldn’t climb back down! It was an exhilarating day of activity and shooting. Back to the lodge for editing and our second critique. I love seeing how

my eye has changed as we delve deeper into the workshop. Our group has a blend of experience levels and each one of us has improved. PHOTO TIP: It’s always nice to have others on your photo shoot that use the same brand as you. Cathy and I have exchanged batteries, lenses, cameras and flashes. As we end day four, Tammy is having battery issues with her Fuji camera, which she pinpoints to a faulty charger. Unfortunately, she is the only one shooting Fuji, so we can’t lend a hand. Prior to her Fuji she used Nikon exclusively. Cathy and I both had extra bodies and lenses and were able to outfit her with gear until she received her backup charger via FedEx. PHOTO TIP: You don’t need a fancy filter to create a starburst effect. Point your lens at the sun and a fork in a tree and shoot on f-16. Instant starburst. Almost every photographer uses a polarizer at some time in their shooting. It cuts glare on water and deepens the blue in the sky. However, it can also put a drastic ‘V’ of color in the sky of southwest scenes. Sometimes it’s best to dial down the polarizer. PHOTO TIP: Enhance your sunset photos by adding something in the foreground. This adds depth to the photos and anchors the image.

As our last day of shooting sunrises was a bust, we decided instead to hike to Canyon Overlook. By this time in our workshop, our next to the last day, we are all getting pretty tired. Cathy and I joke that we are just going to stay on the shuttle and ride it until the park closes then try to convince the driver to deliver us to Nama-stay! Our bodies are exhausted from early mornings, late nights and hiking on uneven terrain straight up the side of cliffs! Michael and I have an ongoing joke... Me: “Michael, how long is this hike and how much elevation change?” Michael: “It’s a short, flat hike!” Ha! Did I mention that Michael is part mountain goat? He’s halfway up the mountain and I’ve barely started the trail. I rationalize that I am older and live below sea level. In truth, I’m holding my own, maybe a little slower, but I make it. Our last hike of the official workshop - we take the longest trail to Emerald Pools. Which is, again, straight up! There are kinda stairs, but they are steep. Damn mountain goat! Final sunset shoot at the Watchman, shooting from the bridge at the iconic spot. Then off to a celebration dinner, our last night with all of us together. Thursday morning we end the workshop with one last critique. It’s awesome to

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see how much we’ve improved our skills in such a short time. Michael’s birthday was 3 days before the workshop started and the day his wife, Lauri, broke her tibia while mountain climbing. He had to carry her on his shoulders 5 miles out of the canyon. It’s been a rough few days for both of them. They always co-teach their workshops, but instead Lauri is laid up with a massive brace and ice on her leg, unsure of the future. A candle-lit brownie and singing “Happy Birthday” cement the bonds created on this trip. The official workshop is over, so now it’s just a group of friends hanging out. Cathy, Carolyn and Mike head back to Las Vegas and home. My husband, Eric, joined the rest of us. For sunset, we headed back to Kolob Terrace Road and a spectacular view over Hop Valley. Without the 100-foot from road limitation, we hike into and on top of a sandstone cliff ridge dusted with beehive formations. We enjoyed wine, snacks, a rising moon and a setting sun. Eric and I started the next morning with the gang at Keyhole Canyon on the east side of Zion Canyon, but quickly

Photo by Donna Bush decided the bald face rock climbing on no apparent trail was not the best for my recently sprained ankle. Eric and I amused ourselves shooting the water eroded sandstone pools around Keyhole. Then we ventured back to our vehicle and the first set of pools that Michael showed us prior to the workshop start. A beautiful place, but even better was the appearance of a group of bighorn sheep followed by two full curled rams! Finding an adjacent ledge, we settled in and waited for them to work their way to us. WOW! Our last day together, we decided it was worth the five hour round-trip drive to Buckskin Gulch, a gorgeous slot canyon in the Paria Wilderness. We started at the Wire Pass trailhead with a TRULY flat, straight hike with almost no elevation change. Finally! Prepared for wading if necessary, it’s a pleasant surprise that we won’t need our additional clothes.

This is the starburst shot taken by Donna using f-16, focused at the sun and the fork in the tree. You can get another perspective of this on the opening page of this story, where you’ll see Cyndy Strickland’s photo of Donna taking this shot 40

There is one boulder and about a ten foot drop that we must negotiate to get into the actual slots. Michael gives excellent instruction on how to stem the canyon. There are several types of stemming used in canyoneering. Ours is called chimneying, where you have your feet on one wall and your back firmly against the other. You maneuver your way down, keeping your legs parallel to the canyon floor as you “stem” your feet then your butt until you reach a spot where you can stand on terra firma. We are all successful! Yay! A fun time is had by all, as we hike the slots, shooting along the way.

Photo by Cyndy Strickland PHOTO TIP: Slot canyons are not a good choice for graduated neutral density filters. The better technique is to zoom in and eliminate the bright spots in your image. Knowing we have a 2.5-hour drive back and Tammy has a very early morning flight, we call it a day, head back to the vehicles and our last dinner together at the Rocking V Café in Kanab. It’s been a wonderful workshop - educational, fun, with hard work and new friends. And new adventures that challenged me to go past my comfort zone. I’ll see Cyndy, Roxanne and Cathy on my next visit to Alaska. Plans are in the works for either another workshop together or a visit to Missoula and Boise. Cyndy and Kim want to visit New Orleans and I’m lobbying for French Quarter Fest. If not before, I’ll see Michael at the next NANPA conference. It’s not a goodbye - it’s till the next time! PHOTO TIP: You don’t have to have an expensive camera to capture a great image. Use your phone. Chances are, you will always have it with you! You can’t take a picture if you don’t have a camera. So, grab your camera of choice or convenience and get shooting! Practice makes perfect!

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legitimate specific task, the dog is considered a service dog, and must be allowed entry. Once admitted into a place of business, the dog must be under control at all times. If he isn’t housetrained, or causes a disturbance, or behaves in any way that disrupts business or creates an unsafe situation, a proprietor has the right to ask the dog and his handler to leave. Unfortunately, some individuals take advantage of the law to gain access to places with their dogs even if they aren’t legitimate service dogs. For reasons of convenience, vanity, or entitlement, among others, they game the system by loosely throwing around the term “service dog.” In the end, the eventual bad behavior of these imposter dogs, and the knowledge that their fraud owners take advantage of the honor system, makes the general public lose trust, to the detriment of the law’s intended beneficiaries. If you go online and do a Google search for “service dog certification”, or “service dog registry”, you’ll see that there’s an entire industry built around service dog accessories, ID tags,


badges, vests, and so forth. If there’s a registry, then surely there must be an actual legitimate or official distinction for “real” service dogs, right? Well actually, no. The first registry site I visited after my Google search had a prominent notice saying that as long as an applicant answers the questionnaire correctly, the registration would be granted, and that it’s all based on the honor system. So the “official” online certificate and the one you print from scratch on your home computer (neither of which a business owner is allowed to ask for in the first place) carry the same amount of authority. Which is to say, none. The same is true for vests, badges and ID tags. I suppose it’s clearly a good thing for a legitimate service dog to be instantly recognizable; but when any dog owner, like the frauds mentioned before, can display the “uniform” or trappings of a service dog, the intended impact is diluted, and the public becomes skeptical. Again, the eventual losers are the disabled and the handicapped, those who should benefit from the ADA’s service dog rules. It’s also good, I think, to know what isn’t a service dog. For instance, a dog whose handler takes her to visit hospitals, mental health facilities, schools, nursing homes, prisons, and the like, for the benefit of the patients, students, residents, and inmates, is known as a therapy dog. An emotional support dog (ESD) provides therapeutic support, just by her presence, to her handler, generally a person with social anxiety or a similar mental health issue. For the most part, these dogs and their handlers, though they provide a noble and necessary service, aren’t bona fide “service dogs”. They have no special rights to access areas where dogs are not usually allowed.

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There are lots of subtle nuances and loopholes and exceptions to the service animal provisions of the ADA that are beyond the scope of this article. They deal with issues of housing, airplane access, hotels, etc. Even if some folks do get to abuse the system to sneak their tea-cup Fi-fis into the multiplex for a screening of “The Secret Life of Pets”, I’m of the opinion that the rights of the disabled to have trained, well-behaved service dogs to accompany them and afford them a degree of independence is a huge net benefit. Oh, and the only non-canine species recognized as a legal service animal? That would be a miniature horse, as long as he meets certain criteria, including size and house-training. I’ll just leave that for you to consider.

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It’s that time of year again, the 4th of July, our Country’s Independence Day! We know how important this day is and I can go on and on about why that is, but I really don’t want to. Instead, I’m just gonna break it down in my super short, dysfunctional version, using a lot of F words: Here I go... FAMILY: Some of them you love, some of them you just put up with. Either way, they are yours, and THIS is the holiday to gather them all together, get liquored up and light some explosives. FRIENDS: Same as above, only difference is, you CHOSE these people. And they love you on a different kind of level. So when one of them drinks a fifth of whiskey and shoots a bottle rocket at your neighbor’s house you’ve been bitching about all year, it’s your own fault. You knew it was coming.

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FOOD: Hamburgers, hotdogs, sides and cold beer! If Great Aunt Esther brings the Jell-O mold containing cat food and nuts, just kindly scoop half of it into the trash. She will be happy to think people tried it without actually having to. Win-Win. This also goes for that carrot/raisin/mayo dish. The sad thing is, the person that usually brings this is still in their right mind. Just put it in a Tupperware and give it as an apology gift to your neighbor the next day.

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FLAGS: If you line your driveway with 100 little plastic flags, along with the USA door wreath, garden flag, red and blue spot lights and whatever other themed décor you bought from Hobby Lobby, you most likely don’t have Old Glory flying on the front of your house everyday of the year. It’s all you need. Really. FIREWORKS: When you were a kid, it was all about the fireworks! As an adult, you are lucky if they save you a smoke bomb. And YES, adults still want to write their name out with a sparkler. That will never change. This is our time to be kids again! The worst fireworks… the duds, of course. But even worse is the exciting, good looking, big firework package that you can’t wait to light towards the end of the night, only to discover that it gives off one pitiful “poof” that lasts 3 seconds. Ladies, you know what I’m talking about. FIRST AID: Every year, at least one upward propelling firework falls over on the

ground causing everyone around it to run for cover. This tests your fight or flight reaction. You will either grab the nearest kid and run behind a tree like a sober, responsible adult, OR, stand there in shock, OR, like most people, you will just RUN. In any direction. Screaming. Unfortunately, there is never enough time to figure out which direction it is going to shoot, so just get ready to JUMP! Someone may end up in the emergency room. Probably your drunk friend that is standing there prepared to catch it. Another possible first aid situation is when you hear someone say, “Hold my beer and watch this!” Don’t hold their beer. Then you have the “Fake Dud”. This is when you feel enough time has passed to consider it a dud, only to have it explode in your face right as you lean over to check it. Just remember... stop, drop and roll. FLYING INSECTS: Meaning Mosquitoes.

Forget all the bug spray warnings you’ve heard, just take a needle and syringe and inject yourself with Deet. One way or another, it will fix the problem. (Don’t really do this. It was a joke. You will die. And I will go to jail.) FREEDOM: On a serious note, many brave people loved this country enough to get us the freedom we have, and to this day, many more are fighting to keep it that way! Embrace the gift this Country was given, don’t take it for granted, and for the love of all things red, white, and blue, teach that to your children! They are the future leaders and protectors of it! As for me on the 4th, I will embrace any dysfunctional moments, but mainly, celebrate the pride and love I have for this great Country. And on the 5th, my Flag will STILL be flying, because I will love my Country just the same. GOD BLESS AMERICA! 45


OUT TAKES

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Slidell Magazine was EVERYWHERE this month! Here are just a few of our adventures!

Girl, you are ABSOLUT ELY CRAZY! Slidell Mag’s writer/p hotographer and adventurer, Donna Bu sh, ON TH E SIDE OF A DA NG MOUNTAIN, doing yoga poses for this month’s story!

erritt and Anna-Merle M ess play SWCC sisters an M ra nd itor Ke Sister. Slidell Mag Ed e in the play, Div HA!) dress-up for HA t, is og ol scient (A devi l and a

ch Cameron Wel sa Benson & Actors Melis laughing at the Cutting had us rolling on, T he Divine Sister ti Edge produc

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Wind Dancer Ranch Equine Rescue Service and Lucky the res cue horse show their story at the 2016 St. James Parish Sheriff ’s Girls Summer Camp

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Chef Michael with Dr. and Mrs. Kishore Kamath, and daughter Alin a Kamath, enjoying an awesome dinner at Mic hael’s Restaurant

nteers join Alliance volu h lt l ea H ’s at the Slidel T he Women O Bill Davis CE rs er ou sn H ch er /O ft SMH ess A ospital Busin Memorial H


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