May You Live in Interesting Times

“May You Live in Interesting Times”

 

“May you live in interesting times”, is an old Chinese proverb. Today it’s a time when we go from being bored out of our minds to panicking from a sore throat. But it’s also a time that brings out the best in people, and as we look back at trying times in the past it’s easy to see how we individually and as a country responded. We will whip this virus, but we can control it faster, if we will unite to fight it.

The virus impact can be as little as just being slightly inconvenienced to devastation. The family who loses a loved one will always remember the sadness associated with the pandemic. Of course, the pandemic doesn’t affect everyone the same, and although it is a worldwide health emergency, the response to controlling it is different in various countries. We will probably look back and regret the terrible job America has done in controlling the pandemic, when compared to Western Europe or New Zealand. Yes, the response from our European friends has been to mandate certain things to limit exposures to the virus, and that is something we haven’t done on a national basis. Our country’s lapses have killed many Americans, because our control of the virus has been erratic. At first we tried to ignore it, and then we instigated some recommendations, but as a whole, the country never tackled the virus like countries that got it under control quickly and were able to reduce virus deaths.  

            Today, as we see our country’s virus deaths spiraling out of control, we are still in an “Open things up mood” and mandatory masks and social distancing are just recommendations in many parts of the country. What should have happen back in March and April, when the virus became an epidemic in New York City, was a national mask mandate that carried a stiff fine for not complying. And don’t give me that old crap about you having the freedom to not wear a mask. You cover your naked bottom don’t you, and showing your bottom is not going to kill anyone, but when you don’t wear a mask you become part of the problem.

            Americans are not going through this pandemic with the lowest possible loss of life, and it’s because of insane gatherings like 250,000 motorcycle riders going to Sturgis mostly without masks. How many thousands were infected, and how many will die, because of that rally? But it’s sure not just a big biker rally. How about First Baptist Church in Dallas holding a Patriotic Service with a 150+ voice shoulder to shoulder choir without masks, to a packed audience without a mask requirement or practicing social distancing? If your church is holding services without mandating masks or social distances, your church is part of the problem.

            Now let’s look at the economic devastation caused by the virus. If having a couple of hundred thousand Americans die doesn’t bother you, maybe the store closings and bankruptcies will get your attention. Some of these studies and statistics are absolutely shocking. In New York City an estimated 60% of their restaurants won’t open back up, and thousand upon thousands of employees, of not only the restaurants, but from stores in every state will be unemployed. We are not only seeing the big stores such as J. C. Penny and other large department stores close, but thousands of small businesses nation-wide are closing daily, never to reopen.

            During this time of a National Emergency, all Americans should work to lift up our small business neighbors, and by doing so make surviving the pandemic a national effort whether it directly affects you or not. Our National and State governments have tried to mitigate the terrible consequences that are befalling the American workers and businesses, but their help has been a pittance compared to what is needed.

Of course, if you are employed by a local, state, or a national governing body, you haven’t had to worry about not receiving a paycheck, and if you are working for a large major company that can weather the storm, you are still going to get paid. However, most Americans aren’t in that shape, and small business are at the top of the list of entities that are affected by the pandemic. Every town in this country, large or small, have local businesses that are in dire straits, and hundreds of thousands of those small businesses won’t survive without help. That is a fact. Now, whether your town or city is 200 or 20,000 or 200,000, in population the survival of your small business community is critical to the wellbeing of the entire town. It is going to be up to the individual town or city to shore up these small business, and help them anyway possible. If we don’t…well you stand to lose the heart of your town or city.

Most of our downtowns are the home of small stores and restaurants, which are owned by local residents. Downtowns are looked upon as the center of town, and that is important. One of the major players in the rejuvenation of downtown San Antonio, Texas told me they worked on restoring their downtown because, and I quote, “When your downtown is perceived as a failure, your entire city is looked upon in the same way.” I don’t believe there is an Arkansas downtown, which wouldn’t look like a failure, if that downtown lost 50% of its businesses. But that is exactly what will happen, if these businesses don’t get help. Those stores and restaurants are seeing sales plummet, and many of them will go out of businesses.

However, it seems most of our towns are ignoring the problem, and for small businesses, it’s sink or swim. If your downtown looks shabby, it’s because your City refuses to provide the funding to adequately take care of city planters, trees, and repairing sidewalks. It makes a downtown look as if no one cares, or if your city ignores ordinance enforcement to the detriment of your downtown during the pandemic, it can be the final nail in the coffin of many businesses. As a bad example, El Dorado’s Downtown has been without a Parking Enforcement Officer for 20 months, and according to the Chief of Police, it will be next year before he hires one. Stores with downtown shoppers reduced to a minimum because of the pandemic, and 80% of the downtown parking already taken by downtown workers, will spell the end of a large number of El Dorado businesses.

            The state Main Street and local Main Street programs have small economic grants to help downtown business, and every small downtown business should apply for these grants. However, these grants, while welcome, won’t be enough, if your town doesn’t chip in to help, and of course, there are multiple ways a city or town can help small businesses. Just think, if every city or town in the state would make a commitment to help small businesses survive the pandemic, it would be a time that we would look back on and be proud of how we helped each other pull through…by working together.

             

  

Why I Love the Desert Why I Love the Desert I guess, at first glance, you might think, “Old Richard has done lost it.” Yes, if you think of sand dunes and trackless wastelands as the desert, you might believe that. But my love of the Libyan Sahara Desert is more complicated than Hollywood’s version, and I do have desert experience. During my work with Exxon as a well-site geologist, I spent two thirds my time in the desert on drilling rigs, examining samples of rock drilled, every ten feet, and if I thought the rocks might be oil bearing, I stopped the drilling and ran a test. What made it complicated was, many layers of rocks drilled had traces of oil, and every test would cost the company $100,000, and if you didn’t get oil on those extra tests, you could receive a “Your services are no longer needed” note. But my time in the desert wasn’t spent just looking at rock samples. In any drilling operation there are hours of down-time especially for a geologists. In Libya there is a formation called the Heira Shale, a thick layer of rocks, and it takes a drilling rig days to drill through it. That’s when my day’s work would finish in thirty minutes and my morning report would say, “TD 8050’, drilling, 100% Heira Shale, black, splintery, shale” and that would be it until the next day. Then, when the drilling bits became dull, the bit would have to be pulled, and replacing the dull bit would usually take 6 to 8 hours. Those are the times when I would gas up the Land Rover and head for the desert. When you’re driving in the desert, you realize it’s not barren, trackless, and endless sand dunes. Since the desert was once an inland sea and later a lush African forest, and had seen countless armies march across it, remnants of all those things are still there. And it’s not “trackless”. Almost two thirds of the desert is called hard-pack, and it’s like driving on an endless, flat gravel road. All you have to do is not drive off into a wadi (a former stream bed, or drive over a large sand dune, where you would get stuck). Actually sand dunes make up less than a quarter of the desert. Trackless? Nope. You can still see the tread marks of German and British tanks from World War II, and German jerry-cans dot the desert. When we were near the coast, we were warned not to drive off the cleared, posted road near the wellsite. The Germans and English planted several million land mines, which are still active. Near the coast, on the low ridges there were machine-gun nests, which looked as if the soldiers manning them had just left. One of the oil companies hired some old ex-German soldiers, to clear land mines and these ex-soldiers had the maps where they put out the mines. I traveled by my dashboard compass, and when I would be driving cross-desert, I would sometimes read a book propped up on the steering wheel. However, that compass driving didn’t always work. I ran into a sandstorm, was lost for twelve hours, and had to spend the night in my Land Rover. But driving in the desert always turned up surprises, such as a World War I bi-plane, which I spotted on one of my drives. The plane had crashed and burned, but the metal remains were still just lying on the top of a small ridge One cross-desert trip I drove to the Kufra Oasis, where I sat in the sand around a steaming pot of vegetables and camel meat and lunched with the village heads. Then I drove down to see an American bomber, the Lady Be Good. The World War II plane had been hit by anti-aircraft fire, its navigation system disable, and ended up landing in the Desert. When the plane’s fuel supply was depleted, the crew bailed out and the plane guided down and landed. It was still intact except for bent props and collapsed landing gear. The remains of the crew were found in the mid-1950. They had all survived the bailing out, but trying to walk across several hundred miles of desert was too much for them. For a geologist, the desert was a treasure trove of many things, such as remarkable gypsum fossils just lying in the dry stream beds. Those glistening fossils kept me busy for hours on end, and the rock walls on the sides of those dried up stream beds had scratched out pictures of animals. These petroglyphs were from a pre-historic time when the climate was much wetter. At one time Libya was called the Breadbasket of the Roman Empire. As I think back on our two years in Libya, and reflect on the desert assignments, I consider them a somewhat pleasant part of a hardship tour. To be honest, Vertis has a completely different view of my desert tours, and for good reasons. After the Second World War, Benghazi had an influx of residents and the electrical system couldn’t handle the load. That meant one quarter of the town would have their electricity cut off each night. Vertis had to lock her doors, bolt the windows at dark, and couldn’t leave the house. We had a short wave radio, and when President Kenney was assassinated, she sat in the dark and listened to his funeral on the BBC. One of my last desert tours was to a remote wildcat in western Libya near the Algerian border. It was 800 miles from Benghazi, and I spent 23 consecutive days on a French rig with one other American, a French roughneck crew, and a bunch of Libyan roustabouts. It was in the red sand area of the Sahara Desert, which at one time held the world record for the world’s hottest temperature, 136 degrees. The large sand dunes in the area had a soft red hue due to iron oxide in the sand, and the red sand soaked up the sun’s energy, and held it. In other parts of the Sahara, the white sand dunes reflect the sun’s rays, and it cools down at night. It was by far the most interesting of the desert tours, and since the beat-up French rig stayed broken down a lot of the time, I had plenty of time to drive the desert and see some of the Western Sahara Desert, which was more varied and different than the central and eastern Sahara. The French rig had a French chef, and outside of squid-in-its-own-ink sauce, the food was head and shoulders above the standard fare on the American rigs in the area south of Benghazi. Since we were drilling in a different geologic basin, the rock formations were different, and that made the well site sample work more interesting. I was the geologist in charge of evaluating and testing the well, and the other Americans was the drilling engineer in charge of supervising the actual drilling. The two men responsible for the drilling and evaluating a multimillion dollar Exxon wildcat had both graduated from---and you’re not going to believe this--- Norphlet High School!

Angel Wings in El Dorado The Angel Wings in El Dorado Project is a visual, street art painting, which has become part of a worldwide phenomenon called “Angel Wings.” The El Dorado Project has been sponsored by Murphy Pitard Jewelers and the Downtown Guest Quarters, and was created by artist Lara Mason, a former student of the University of Texas Fine Art Department. The The El Dorado Angel Wings have just been finished and it is a major, visual art addition to downtown El Dorado. The impressive 10 foot by 22 foot angel’s wingspread has been painted on the north side of the historic 1909 Wilson Building at 209 East Elm Street. Even before the project was finished the Angel Wings painting attracted the attention of several hundred people, who stood between the large unfinished wings, to have their photos taken. These photos, which seem to make the person have huge wings, have been very popular. Lara Mason has skillfully, and in great detail, given the wings such a realistic feathering that they looked as if they could fly away. Lara is a photo realism artist, which requires painstaking detail with every stroke of the brush. Her art work is as close to a photograph as possible, but the texture and detail she puts in her work, distinguishes it from a true photo, and gives depth and emotion a photograph could never capture. After working to make a large double-wing cutout that would outline the spread of the wings on the building’s brick wall, she spent days working on a 10 foot ladder as she detailed every feather with texture and color. Feathers, such as those painted on the Angels Wings Project, have had, over the centuries, a symbolic significance and can be seen in numerous cultures, usually referring to spiritual communication. It seems the feathers and wings combine to create a visual draw as people line up to have their picture taken, which makes them part of the art. Based on the reception from cultures around the globe, the worldwide Angel Wings Project has kindled deep human emotions that draw people to become part of the display. It is almost a supernatural draw, which compels people to stand in the spread of the wings to have their picture made, and then of course to share it with friends. However, the Angel Wings aren’t just an artist’s project to add a splash of color to a blank brick building’s wall. It seems, from the attention the worldwide Angle Wings Project has generated, as people are drawn to be part of the art, it creates other benefits everywhere an Angel Wing Project has been instigated. There is something about the Angel Wings, which causes people to want to be a part of the art by standing between the wings and have a photo made. Here in El Dorado we have already seen a flood of visitors stopping to take a picture with someone between the wings, and with the social media and internet, the pictures of the El Dorado site are going nationwide and probably worldwide. This artwork is part of a nationwide Main Street Organization goal to create more downtown ambiance in not only El Dorado’s downtown, but with art projects all across the country, which are being instigated to enhance downtowns. One of the additional benefits of this outstanding artwork is to attract visitors to downtown El Dorado, America’s award-winning downtown. The handcrafted Angel Wings over El Dorado is perfect for a souvenir picture to commemorate a visit, and by standing with the wings the person becomes a part of the art work. It is expected that over the next few months several thousand photos will capture the dramatic set of Angel Wings, bringing additional publicity and more visitors to Downtown El Dorado. The Angel Wings in El Dorado Project is an offshoot of the original Angel Wings Project that started in Los Angeles. The first Angel Wings were designed with several goals in mind. The primary goal, which the original artist, Collette Miller stated, “Is to remind us that we are supposed to be angels on earth, and reflect the goodness of angels to our fellow man.” Ms. Miller started painting Angel Wings on some of the dilapidated building’s walls in a very rundown section of Los Angeles without city permission. She did this to give the residents of these neglected neighborhoods hope and to add a little interest and color to a drab part of town. The project was just supposed to be just a local art project to brighten up a neglected area in the city, but it was so popular those first Angel Wings have inspired a worldwide phenomenon, with Angel Wings murals on almost every continent. The initial Wings attracted so much attention and praise that the city of Los Angeles became a willing partner, and joined with Ms. Miller, which resulted in 30 more Angel Wings throughout the city. Today in Los Angeles, you can find the angel wings in the Arts district in downtown, at Angel City Brewer, the Regent Theatre, in Koreatown, and in Westfield Century City Mall. Though some Wings are commissioned and others gifted, the Wings themselves are free to the world. Angel Wings are never owned by anyone, not even Ms. Miller. Though the initial ones are of her provenance and work, and the painting all over the world are in response to her first ones. She decided to focus on lifting the spirits of people on the streets when she started creating beautiful, colorful, larger-than-life-sized angel wings all over the world. People seek them out, drawing encouragement, peace and inspiration from her works. Currently there are more than 150 installations around the world. The first pair was just street art, but the response was natural, immediate and spontaneous, from people of all sorts and backgrounds. Ms. Miller has painted wings globally in Kenya, Australia, England, Japan, France, Cuba, Juarez Mexico, Dubai, Taiwan, and more, and many in the USA. The original purpose of Angel wings was symbolic of encouragement that brings on soaring to new heights in life. Angel wings can also symbolize the will to do good to oneself and to others. (Taken from her website.) Downtown El Dorado’s Angel Wings are part of this world-wide people’s art project where individuals become part of the art as they stand between the wings and have their photo taken. It seems, from the worldwide success of the Angel Wings Project, there is an attraction, which draws people to not only view a work of art, but to become part of it, and to share it with their friends on social media. It’s hard to pin down why people are drawn to the art work, but from the very first Angel Wings painting they have been. Today downtown El Dorado, through the Angle Wings Project, has become part of a worldwide movement to encourage us, though the symbol of Angels Wings, to treat everyone equal. You’re invited to drop by downtown El Dorado to become part of the art, and celebrate the oneness of mankind.s

California Dreaming: My apologies to the Mamas and the Papas for using their song title for my column title. Most Arkansas folks have an opinion about California, and whether it’s good or bad, it probably has to do with either Disneyland or politics. I would guess more folks recognize Nancy Pelosi’s name than they do old, uh, what’s his name, our old senior senator? But we would be doing California a disservice, if we based our opinion on one political figure or a theme park. I have visited California numerous times. Played tennis matches at the John Wayne Tennis Center in San Bernardino, where you must wear all whites, which brings back an interesting tennis story. The match was set up by the Center, and when I met my opponent, who was a good 20 years younger, and told him I was from Arkansas, he reacted as if Arkansas didn’t have tennis courts, and he casually said, “I’m ranked in California.” It was a “tennis snob” attitude I would call “looking down his nose” at just playing me. I nodded. I could tell he thought he was doing me a favor by playing a backwoods, novice player. We started warming up, and I sized him up as a good player but not great. His backhand was suspect. Of course, I hit everything to his backhand, and I won the match in straight sets. We walked over to rest, and Mr. I’m Ranked in California commented, “I can’t believe you just kept getting everything back. You know I’m a ranked player in California!” “Well, I’m also ranked…in Arkansas…and you need to work on your backhand,” I said as I put my racket in its case and walked off. Yeah, that was tacky, but he deserved it. Yes, I’ve visited Disneyland, spent a vacation at La Costa Spa, listened to the Kingston Trio play in a San Francisco park, took a balloon ride over the vineyards in the Napa Valley, so I do have a feeling about the state, and let me describe it this way. Several years back we took a family vacation to New York City and our son Ashley had to go from a Scout float trip on the Buffalo National River directly to New York City. Later that day, as Ashley and I were standing on 5th Avenue looking down at a street milling with cars and shoulder to shoulder people, while fire sirens blared. He shook his head and said, “Dad, I think New York is a visiting place not a living place.” Wisdom from an observant 14 year old, and it fits my opinion of California to a T. Of course, I do miss a few amenities by living in El Dorado, but I’ll take the 5 minutes from everywhere in town, the fishing or hunting in 10 minutes from my house, and I’ll give up dining 3 star restaurants, attending pro ball games, big shopping malls and having to commute two or more hours.. But let’s look a little deeper into what is certainly a complex state with an unbelievable diverse landscape, people, and businesses. The state gave Hillary an overwhelming several million vote majority, and even some old Republican strongholds such as Orange County went Democratic in the mid-term elections. Governor Brown, before he left office, signed into law the first law in the Nation, which would ban gender discrimination on corporate boards. Corporate boards in California are now required to place women on their boards. That’s not just throwing a bone to the ladies. Numerous studies have shown a board with women on it is more productive than a male only board. California usually leads the Nation, and just as cellphones swept the country, we will follow suite, and in a decade or two the thousands of all male boards and commissions in our state and the country will have not just a woman on them, but an equal number of women. Not everything starts in California, but the state dominates the issuance of patents, and if you want to see the latest innovations, go to California. Of course, you would figure, with Democrats running the state, the average citizen’s health coverage would be top notch. But hey, that’s just California, and you might think the state is about to turn into a socialist commune, and have a huge over budget debt....but you’d be wrong. The state actually had a 21 billion budget surplus before the pandemic. The Silicon Valley companies have produced so many of our lifestyle items that I couldn’t possible list them all. Let’s face it folks, we’re actually jealous of California’s success and high standard of living. Their average medium wage is $77,252, and their longevity is 80.9 years. Arkansas average is $45,726 and our longevity is 74.5 years. That might have something to do with the number of people smoking. In California its 10.5% and in Arkansas it’s 22%. Maybe we could learn a few things from California. It’s easy to understand why California is such a dominate state. If California were an independent country its annual gross national product would place it number 5 in the world. The state is a hotbed for entrepreneurs with success stories that have influenced consumer habits around the world. Of course I’m, writing about companies such as Apple, Intel, Microsoft, and multiple more. It seem the creative atmosphere in the state combined with a huge amount of startup money from venture capitalists equals the best place in the world to start a new company. Yes, California is the home of Nancy Pelosi, known in some circles, as the wicked witch of the west. Of course, she is definitely against the border wall, but she is for mandatory health coverage for preexisting conditions, is in favor of increasing the minimum wage, has worked to keep veteran’s benefits from being reduced, is a strong promoter of increasing teachers’ salaries and for providing all graduating high school two years of free tuition. That is just a sample of the foxy, 76 year old, devout Catholic lady who looks 55, who has 6 kids and a bunch of grandkids. Well, maybe she has had a little touch up. Of course, if you’re in the market for a little perk to a sagging face, you might book a flight to L. A. and that ain’t Lower Arkansas. As much as we hate to admit it, we spend a huge amount of time and money trying to emulate California. After all, if you look at modern technology, and you don’t want to live in the 50s, you want what California has had for several years. But don’t get me wrong. I’m not even thinking about moving, because we can have it both ways...if we will just pull our heads out of the sand, and instead of trying to lure in another polluting plant or low rent business or hog farm or spray with Dicamba, we will take the best of California and add it to the Natural State where not only will we have our natural wonders, but we will actually have a state where the 21st century is not something we only see on movie screens.

A Bangs Slough Shockerroo

                 A Bangs Slough Shockerroo

I’ve had a few folks question some of my tales about growing up in South Arkansas, and I have seen some heads shaking in disbelief. But this story and those tales aren’t fiction. They are as close as I can remember to being exactly as they happened.

During my high school years, Buddy Henley and I were hunting and fishing buddies, and whatever season it was, hunting or fishing, we were doing one or the other every weekend, and even after school. It was early June when school was out and the lakes, creeks, and river were full of spring rain water. The fishing trip was an overnighter to Buddy’s folk’s cabin on the Ouachita River where we would set trot lines and fish in the River and in Bangs Slough. The cabin wasn’t a luxury cabin, but for 15 and 17 years old boys, it was just perfect, and where it was located made it a great place for an overnight fishing trip. The cabin was up river about a mile from Lock 8 on the Ouachita River, and about a half mile from the mouth of Bangs Slough. Actually, Bangs Slough is really just a big creek, but creek or slough, it was a top spot to fish. Of course, since it was early June and the water was flowing out of the slough at a pretty good rate, the mouth of the slough, where it flowed into the river, was a top spot to catch big bream.

            So that early June Friday afternoon, we loaded my Jeep and headed down to the river. Going in off the main road before coming to Lock 8 was always a little iffy. However, a few dry days had made the road passable and pretty soon we were getting our trot lines ready to set out. We had two lines that went across the river, and after a couple of hours work, we had both of them strung out with hooks about four to six feet apart. It was time to catch little sunfish and small bream to use as bait. We had some red wigglers, and fishing under the willow trees along the river bank, we managed to catch forty or fifty little fish about three fingers wide. It was time to bait the hooks. It was nearly dark when we finished, and after a long day we were ready to sack out knowing we’d be up at first light to run the trot lines.

            In only a few minutes we were both sound asleep, and it seemed I had just dozed off when I noticed the room was getting a little brighter and that meant the sun was peeking through the trees. After a quick breakfast of stale bread baloney sandwiches, we got in the old flat bottom wooden boat, cranked up the Evinrude motor, and ran the trot lines. Most of the bait was gone, but we did have several small blue cats, and one pretty good size flathead. After taking the trot line catch back to the cabin and putting them in an ice chest to skin later, we headed to Bangs Slough to fish for bream and maybe a bass or two. Crickets were our bait, and we started by fishing in the mouth of the slough where it ran into the river. It was about nine o’clock when we tossed in our first cricket baited hook, and in less than an hour, we had caught half an ice chest full of good size bream. Our fishing trip was turning out great. However, as the sun beamed down, sometime around eleven o’clock, we decided to paddle up Bangs Slough, partly to get out of the sun.

 We always enjoyed easing along with one of us sitting in the back of the boat just paddling enough to slowly move through the water and around the big cypress trees that lined the creek or were out in the middle of the creek. Easing along fishing as we slowly moved up Bangs Slough or Champanolle Creek is etched in my mind as one of the more pleasurable times of growing up in South Arkansas. After about an hour, we had caught a variety of fish. One of the more interesting parts of fishing up one of the major creeks that flow into the Ouachita Rives is not ever knowing what you were going to catch when you tossed your cricket beside one of the big cypress trees. Over the past few years, we had caught small alligator gar, grinnell, bass, crappie, and bream.

            It was toward the end of our fishing trip, when we were about to turn back down the slough and head for the cabin, when the front of the boat bumped up against an old treetop that had fallen in the water. The treetop was mostly just bare limbs with driftwood stacked up on the limbs, and I was about to push back from the tangle of limbs, which were almost hanging over the front of the boat when I saw something. It was the biggest cottonmouth water moccasin I have ever seen, and it was about to slide off a tree limb and into our flat bottom boat. We always took a 22 rifle with us when we went fishing, and since a deadly snake was about to join us in the boat, I grabbed the 22 and quickly shot the snake in the head. It killed the snake, but as we looked at it, remarking how big it was, we noticed something: there was a large very noticeable bulge about halfway down the middle of the snake.

            We started talking about what it could be, and I said, “Some poisonous snakes have live births and some lay eggs. It could be little snakes or eggs.” Well, after a few more comments, we decided to get the snake and cut it open to see what was causing the big bulge. It took a few minute, but pretty soon we had it lying on the boat seat belly up, and Buddy pulled out his hunting knife. It was super sharp, and as I held the snake stretched out, Buddy made a long cut right where the bulge was.

            Buddy, who was looking down hanging over the snake, said “I see something…Ahaaaa!” He jumped back as something hit him in the chest, and so did I. Then we looked down in the bottom of the boat to see what had come out of that big snake. It was a large bullfrog. It took a couple of hops, and then jumped out of the boat into the water…a bullfrog Jonah.