Tonight I had the privilege and opportunity to meet with a young man who is going through some painful times that I went through in my life.  We had a great dinner with his family and then went off by ourselves to talk.  It matters not what we talked about because it is no ones business but ours; however, it was a moving conversation.  I relayed two stories from my past that will be two stories in my memoirs.  Both of them have to do with life and death, survival, holy intervention and understanding why I am still alive.  This young man is extremely intelligent, articulate, educated and somewhat street savvy.  His future is as bright as the stars on a cold Wyoming night.  The world is awaiting at his feet and I firmly believe he will conquer this world and many others.  God has allowed me to stay around a bit longer so that I may have the opportunity to work with young people such as this fine young man.  Tonight I gave him my solemn promise that he can count of me, anytime, anyplace, matters not.  As I was telling him this I could see his eyes swell up with tears.  I could see that he was trying to hold back, but they flowed down his cheeks.  As he wiped his face my heart just sank because I started thinking back when I was his age wishing someone would have sat down and talked with me about my troubles as a young man.  His courage to do this, not just shed tears to a person he just met an hour earlier, but to open himself up and to allow me in was extraordinary.  A new friendship was made tonight.  There is no way I can fail this young man.  The pressure is on and I wouldn't have it any other way.  He wants to go watch what goes on in my world, so we are going out to the bull pen in a couple of weeks and come with me while I work the horses.  I am so looking forward to spending time with this young man and hopefully can help him make the right decisions in life and not go down the dark roads I did.  I would encourage anyone who reads this blog to go out of your way tomorrow, reach out to someone, lend a hand, offer a compliment, or maybe just say hello to a stranger.  We are all in this together.  It's not about you, it's not about me, it's about us.
Goodnight.  Going to hit the hay for I have a long hard week in front of me and need a bit of rest tonight.

The importance of a handshake

As I lay here tonight I can't help but look at my hands.  It's said that women can do whatever they wish to their face, breasts, stomachs, butts, lips and hair to make themselves look younger but the hands always give their age away.  I don't know if this is true for men, but when I look at mine, they appear to me to be much older than I am.  They're scarred, weathered, every finger has been broken, one finger is forever bent, callouses and wrinkles.  They're downright ugly, but they tell a lot of stories.  These hands have done many things and if I had to pick a body part to tell my life's stories it would be my hands.  They have helped bring life into this world, yet, they have been responsible for taking life away.   They have dug ditches, roped wild horses, branded cattle, ridden bulls and broncs, lifted weights, driven tractors, planted crops, and hunted game.  They have been in fights, broken glass, shattered jaws, opened whiskey bottles, and been involved in irreparable damage.  They have felt the smoothness of a babies bottom, the softness of a woman's skin and wiped tears away from women and children, as well as my own.  Everything that these hands have done, from shaking the hands of a president, professional athletes, rock and country stars, do not remotely compare to the shaking hands of a friend.  That simple gesture that seems to be fading among this generation is crucial in the development of a relationship.  I have stated this before but it seems fitting to state it again.  My Uncle Pudge, as strong a man as I have ever known, taught me many lessons in life, but none as important as this.  When you shake a man's hand, or woman's for that matter, give them a firm handshake and look them in the eye when you do.  Don't look away from their eyes and don't be the first one to let go of the handshake.  He taught me that a person's handshake was their signature.  If they look away from you or don't have a firm handshake, walk away from them for they are not to be trusted.  To this day, that simple gesture determines whether or not I will have much to do with a person.  Tonight, I met four young United States Marines, fellow bull riders in Norco before we headed over to Mira Loma for bull riding.  We met up in a parking lot at the Boot Barn.  When I pulled my rig into the parking lot they were already waiting for me.  We all exited our rigs, walked up to each other and shook hands.  Not one of us looked away.  Not one of us extended some dead fish for a hand.  Each one of us knows that through this simple gesture that we are not only friends, we are brothers in arms.  We have each others back at any time.  We all decided to go grab a quick burger before bull riding, sat and talked for a bit, and then headed out to the bull pen.  Maybe it's a cowboy thing, I don't really know, but every cowboy out there has the same handshake with the stare in the eyes.  When the night was over and the bulls were fed and put away, we all sat around our rigs talking about everything under the sun.  When it was time to go, we shook hands again to say goodbye.  What was touching about his evening however was one of the young marines shook my hand again and said thank you.  Neither one of us let go and neither one of us look away during this final conversation of the night.  He thanked me for all the help that I have given him, not only in bull riding, but life.  Wow!  He went on to say that I have taught him more than his own father.  What do you say to that?  I was at a loss for words.  I told him thank you for the kind words and guaranteed him that I would always be there for him.  I told him that he was like a son to me, just like the others, and there was nothing I wouldn't do for any of them.  Since we first met a while back, our relationships just keep growing and growing, becoming stronger and stronger.  Now I am not relaying this story because I am anything special, for I am not.  I am just a man whose hands have done so many things, bad and good, but it's nice to hear someone from this younger generation offer appreciation for what you have tried to teach them.  His last words tonight before we said goodbye were, "I am going to pass along what you have taught me to my children."  I was more than honored when he told me that.  It all started a while back when I rolled in early for bull riding and these four young men were there before anyone.  I had never seen them before, but I walked up with my rodeo gear and introduced myself to them.  They all shook my hand when introduced and it's because of that moment, that simple gesture, that five cowboys have bonded and friendships are being nurtured and impressions are being set.
Don't take a handshake for granted.  It is your signature.  What kind of signature do you have?  Is it valid?  Is is trustworthy?  Is it real?
Nothing to report on the health issues tonight.  Although I didn't ride bulls tonight, working them in the arena takes a lot out of you and tonight, they kicked my butt.  Going to hit the hay, rest my tired body and sleep.
Goodnight y'all.  May the rode rise up to meet you, the sun shine on your face and the wind at your back.

Been a rough couple of days since I was released from the hospital.  Having dealt with this cancer bug for two and half years now I know how my body feels when my white blood cell count is back on the rise, and on the rise it is.  Monday, I will call my oncologist and get in to see her next week if possible.  Today, I was in another world.  Drove to my mother in laws place to take a load of plants to their new place, stopped to get my mail, put some fuel in the rig, went to the bank, came home and collapsed for a four hour nap.  This is after having a twelve hour sleep the night before.  Every time my white blood cell count goes on the warpath, the tiredness sets in and so does the pain.  I pray every night that my screams don't wake up others.  It feels like someone is taking a red hot branding iron to my bones.  I can't take enough pain medication and so I don't.  Just have to cowboy up.
I missed riding Cody today, just didn't have it in me, but tomorrow we shall ride.  Afterwards, I hope to grab some cheap grub, go see some friends in Norco, head over to the horse auction in Mira Loma at five and then go bull riding up the street at 7.
There are a couple of things on my mind tonight that I just need to get off.  Hopefully, I won't upset anyone, but if I do, well it was just meant to be.
I was invited to a writers club meeting the other night by a wonderful woman by the name of Christine.  She was the one who originally put the group together years ago and was kind enough to invite me.  I am not sure how she came to know me or why she thought I was a writer but regardless I accepted her invitation and we headed over to old town Pomona to an art gallery where this meeting was to take place.  Now, most of you know me well enough that I don't go anywhere without my hat, buckle, Wrangler's and boots.  I don't clean my hat and I don't clean my boots.  When we parked and got out of her car I felt I was in another country.  Nothing to do with other ethnic groups, but the way people dressed.  No one dresses like me, not even in Chino Hills!  I have to go to Norco to fit in around here and even there I get people that stare.  The meeting was interesting to say the least.  I was asked to read one of my stories that most of you have read in the past.  I chose to read the story of when I was in law enforcement and found the baby boy stabbed in his crib.  As I was reading my story I started to get a bit choked up at times because it is a memory that I wish I could forget, but I can't.  After I read my story the group, one at a time, nine people in all, began to offer their critiques.  Keep in mind that these people are on a whole different level of writing than I am.  I am not a writer.  I am terrible at English, the use of punctuation, grammar, pronouns, verbs, etc, etc.  I don't even know what a pronoun is.  One gentleman shared a play that he wrote.  A play!  Another shared a Sci-Fi story he wrote that was so over my head and ability to comprehend, I just pretended to know what the hell he was talking about.  One gentleman study writing at Harvard while another was an ex-college professor.  Talk about a fish being out of water.  They opened up my story like a can of tuna and scrapped out every last piece of fish and then rinsed the can in hot water before throwing it away.  I will admit, it is hard for me to take criticisms, especially by strangers, but I sat there and listened.  Didn't pull my knife or throw my fists but for a few moments I thought it would be best if I just got up and walked out.  However, I stuck it out and soon it was time to move on to the next story from someone else.  Then I was asked to critique and I just had to pass.  Who the hell am I to critique anything, especially some writing by folks that do this for a living.  I am just a simple Joe trying to put down on paper some life experiences so that my children may want to read them one day.  It's been a long time since I felt like a small fish in a big pond.  Now not get me wrong, these folks were good people.  I thoroughly enjoyed their company and their critiques were well received in the end.  They opened my eyes to just how terrible a writer I am and how much more I need to improve if I ever want to think about publishing my memoirs.  When I got home that night, I felt like I had just been on Bushwacker or Bodacious.  I now need to go back through my stories and dissect them, beef them up, and then one day maybe I will share them again.  I would like to thank Christine for allowing me into the group and hope to go back for another butt whooping.
For years I stayed away from going to church.  I was raised in the Mormon religion from the age of 5 to 16 when I left home.  It was all I knew and to this day, it is what I believe.  Now, I may not practice it well, for I fall on my face all the time, but it is my belief.  I don't go around putting other people down for what they believe in and I sure don't appreciate people doing it to me.  I have had folks say some mighty bad things, promoting their beliefs or church saying that I am wrong and they are right.  Why can't people just be happy that you believe in Jesus?  Why can't that just be enough?  I don't need any crusaders trying to get me to change.  I am 62 years of age and I am not going to change.  I like the way I am.  If you really knew me, really knew my life, you would be happy for me to be where I am today.
I haven't been to church in a while, mostly due to lack of attire and not feeling well, along with being in and out of the hospital.  One thing I have noticed, when you don't go, people tend to forget about you.  They don't talk to you anymore, send you Facebook messages or even give to cents on how your doing.  I guess it's out of sight, out of mind mentality.  Same goes for some of my "friends" that I have.  Honestly, I am moving on in my life and most likely will be moving on one day to where I belong.
Last but not least.  If you have something to say about me and aren't a big enough person to say it to me, then don't say anything at all.  This is a very small town and I know a tremendous amount of people, so when something is said, I hear eventually hear it and at times, it's just plain disappointing.  I am an open book.  You all have read it or heard it.  There is nothing that I hide from.  Doesn't matter what the past held.  I have put my life out there so maybe, just maybe, someone who is going through a rough stretch in their road might know the choices I made and repercussions that followed and help them make a better choice.  I am not looking for glorification, sympathy, pity or anything else, just like helping people, especially young people.  I didn't have anyone to direct me when I was young.  There was no one to help me out of trouble or counsel me.  I learned it the hard way and though I am damn proud of making it this far in life, there is a whole world of young people who need help.
Well, enough of my two cents.  Going to take my medications and try to feel better.  To those of you that contributed to my cause, I will not let you down.  I will win!  I always do, always have and always will.
May the good Lord shine his light on you.

Just arrived home today after spending three days at Chino Valley Hospital.  Monday, I was experiencing some chest pains and breathing difficulties.  At the request of my ex, I went to the urgent care in Chino Hills.  They immediately took me in and completed an EKG.  They told me that there were irregularities with EKG and called 911.  They asked me where I wanted to go and I said, "Pomona Valley Hospital."  They told me that Pomona Valley was saturated and I would be seen in a more expedient manner at Chino Valley.  Reluctantly, I agreed.  Although Chino Valley has stepped up their game over the years, it's still not close to being on the level of a larger hospital.  With that being said, I was admitted to Chino Valley where they check out my heart with a fine toothed comb and everything was fine.  They did not have any answers as to what was causing the pain, nor did they determine why I am having these breathing episodes.  Finally, this afternoon, a doctor came in and suggested that it was when I had broke my sternum many, many years ago, and that it was causing muscular spasms which leads to the pain and causing me to breath hard at times.  Now, I am by no means a doctor, and though I have experienced more broken bones, surgeries and other traumas, more than ten people put together would have experienced, I also know when smoke is being blown up my rear end.  I simply smiled, thanked her, and got out.  She did tell me however that nothing that I was experiencing would prohibit me from having a bone marrow transplant in the near future.  I will let my oncologist at UCLA tell me that I think.
Anyway, I back at the apartment and trying to catch up on my blog and other activities being as there was no WiFi at Chino Valley.  It is good to be home and am looking forward to working with a couple of horses in the morning, meeting a good friend for some mud late morning and start getting some things together for my trip to UCLA.  I was told by the nurse coordinator that I would most likely be going in within the next three to four weeks.  Need to go to the Social Security office in Ontario, always a real pleasure, right up there with the DMV or Medi-cal office, and get a new Social Security card being as I had mine in my day runner when it was stolen.  I shall never carry it with me again, lesson learned.
I would like to thank John, Darlene, Tandi and Debi for taking time out of their busy days to come visit me while I was in the hospital.  When you're down in a hospital bed there is nothing in the world as good as when friends or family come visit you.
Tonight I was reading a Facebook post from someone who is battling the same cancer that I have.  This led me to read some other post, kind of like going on YouTube and listening to musical artists.  Before you know it you started out listening to Waylon Jennings and somehow you finish up listening to Social Distortion.  As I read some of the comments I was amazed of how many people are really afraid of what they have.  Maybe I should be too, I don't know, but I am not.  Granted, I had a melt down a few weeks ago, where I felt as though I just didn't care anymore because this cancer had beat me down, but with the help of my fellow crusaders, I dusted myself off and got back in the saddle.  However, it wasn't because I was afraid.  Now, I am no tough guy anymore, those days are behind me, but I feel if you're afraid of your disease, whatever it is, you're letting it win.  You're letting the Devil beat you because fear and doubt are some of his best weapons.  I know this because I let him use them against me years ago.  In fact, years ago, I sold my soul to him but guess what, I stole it back.  I am no special when it come to courage or standing tall, just a old man who has walked to hell and back a couple of times in his life.  I am looking forward to finishing my memoirs so people out there that think they know me, but really don't, can appreciate where I have been and what I have done.  It's through this experiences, good and bad, wrong and right, that have brought me to the point in life where I am currently standing.  Not once have I blamed anyone, God, myself or anyone I know for having contracted this cancer.  Not once have I bitched about it.  Yes, I have moaned a time or two when the pain gets bad, but I always tough it out and most of the time I am not alone when I do.
During the summer of 2013, when I came home from a 9 week hospital/nursing home trip, my 21 year old daughter, Brittany, took ten weeks off of college to nurse me back to health.  I was down to 145 pounds, going through serious morphine withdrawals, and seriously near death.  She sacrificed graduating with her class so she could bring me back to life.  You had to had been there to understand just where I was at physically and how frail I was.  With her help, and the help of friends, I came back from a would be grave and am laying here tonight because of them.  I am not doing this alone, so please, don't think I am something special, for I am not.  What I am is this.  Resilient, stubborn, and ornery.  Don't tell me I can't do something.  If you do, expect it to be done.  Just like my first oncologist who told me I had six to eight months to live when first diagnosed I walked out of his office with defiance.  I like the challenge and I am going to relinquish the day when I walk out of UCLA with a clean bill of health, shake hands and hug all those who helped me get through it, have my farewell bull ride and smile at all those who were not supportive.  Yes, unfortunately there are those people, but it is those people that give me the greatest support. because it is those who wish ill, are jealous for whatever dumb reason, or wish to be judgmental that put fuel on my fire.  I will beat this!  If anyone can, it'll be me!  I have a lot left to do in this world.  I have beautiful children, a grand daughter that I hope to know, young people that need some help, and friend and family that want me around for a bit longer.  For the first time in my life I can really see my potential.  I wish it hadn't come down to dealing with cancer to wake me up, but the Lord has his ways of doing things.  If you ever have the chance to listen to a song that is so me, listen to "The Master's Call" by Marty Robbins.  As always, thanks to those who really have my back, who have stuck with me honestly, and who really are my friends.  You will never be forgotten.  That is my promise.  Goodnight all.

Good morning.  Just woke up but still feeling pretty bad, in fact, I feel like death warmed over.    I don't know what I caught but it's kicking my butt.  Just don't have an ounce of energy to even get out of bed, but I need to.  Need to go to the store and get a few things, cup of mud maybe, and come home and collapse.
My doctor called back and is worried my white blood cell count is going up again.  Honestly, I am fed up with this cancer and what it does.  Every time I just start to feel good it raises it's ugly head and tries to knock me down again, but it hasn't knocked me out because I still keep getting back up.  Tuesday I will hear from the stem cell coordinator to find out what is being done and how long it will be before I am admitted for the transplant.
I have just read that Katie Cunningham's sister, who has once beaten leukemia, has been diagnosed with it again.  Yes, it is financially draining in ways that people who don't have it, don't understand, so I encourage you to visit her donation site and help this beautiful young lady.  There seems to be so many people that are fighting various cancers and other illnesses these days.  Just my two cents, but I strongly feel the culprit is our food and water sources.
This past week has been one of ups and downs, but when my youngest daughter showed me her Silver Honor Roll Award, an award for bringing her grades up, and an award for civic service, all the negative was quickly washed away into the gutter where it belongs and my baby's achievements let the sun in.  I am so very proud of her.  If you knew what she has gone through the past year, these achievements have even greater meaning.  I love you Berlyn!
Not much going on this week so I am going to work diligently on my book and hopefully spend more time with my homeless friend.  There is a reason that we have crossed paths.  Don't know what that reason is but I am excited to find out where this relationship goes.
Hoping to do some serious horseback riding as well.  Nothing as soothing and relaxing as riding a horse.  They're such majestic creatures and when you're riding them your mind just relaxes.
Just like bull riding but without the danger.
May y'all have a great Sunday, be safe, and I will see you later.  Take care.

Well, after being up for 36 hours with no sleep I finally passed out and slept for 13 hours.  Won't be doing that again any time soon.  Just couldn't sleep that night, had a lot on my mind, and got caught up on computer stuff.....Today, I got off to a late start, but made it out to work with Cody.  He was a big pain in the butt today, broke the lead rope while I was trying to wipe some FlyOff on him, got into the enclosed field and ran around, bucking and snorting.  I enticed him over with an orange, put another lead rope on him and walked him over to his stall.  He got a good rub down, was able to clean his hooves and that about did me in.  There is another horse next to him and I curry combed him, brushed him down good and cleaned his hooves as well.  Then Debi, she owns the horses, and I went to the house next door and talked to the owner of another horse that needs a little work.  Got my hands full but my strength seems to weaken each day.  Now I am lying in bed with a sore throat, hot and runny nose, headache and feeling just plain lousy.  Called my oncologist and told her and she wants me into the clinic on Monday.  She said she would have them call me with a time.  I am looking for a ride into Westwood on Monday if anyone cares to make the drive with me.  Just going to put a movie in a try to feel better.\
I saw the homeless young man I met the other day at Starbucks.  He walked up and said, "Howdy."  I asked him to have a seat and we talked for a bit.  I was trying to upload some photos from my cell phone to my laptop but had no idea what I was doing.  He said, "If you don't mind me taking over your phone and laptop, I think I can do it."  So, I let him and sure enough he had cord with him that hooked my phone up to my laptop and he downloaded the photos.  I am hoping that somehow I can help this young man out, get his life back, and clean him up.  I suppose if the good Lord wishes for that to happen he will.
After working with the horses I went to visit a friend and had the opportunity and pleasure of meeting her for the first time as well as her husband and son.  Very nice folks.  She has been a follower of my journey and has had a little surgery of her own just recently.  It's always nice to put a face with a name and today I did just that.
I really feel bad right now and am going to make this short.  Thank y'all for reading, for caring, and for being with me as I go through this battle and especially the war that is about to erupt in a few weeks, meaning the bone marrow transplant.
Goodnight and may God bless you all.

This is now the twelfth blog of the night.  Today, I was shown some texts from people in the community that have taken it upon themselves to be mean, cowardly, and backstabbing.  These people will not be at my fire any more.  I thought about defending myself, opening up my life on a blog, but I don't think I will.  Yes, mistakes are made and I have made plenty, but like Jesus and the whore, who hasn't?  Some people have to go out of their way to be hurtful and spiteful.  Their lives are so miserable and lonely that they have to try and make themselves feel better because their either jealous, upset, or otherwise have nothing going on.  My friends, my true friends, know me.  The ones that are so easily persuaded because they have heard something and don't confront me before deciding whether they wish to know me, are not my friends and never will be.

Today, I had the pleasure of meeting a woman in the Albertson's parking lot who follows my journey and wrote a very nice response regarding our meeting.  I had the pleasure of talking to a homeless young man only to be called by someone who knows him very well and after telling this person about my day said, don't worry about those people.  Katie, always a support and also gave me good words about her experience when she went in for her bone marrow transplant.  She said some people were mean and cruel but to stay focused on what is coming up.  I have enough on my plate without having to deal with a bunch of people that wish to say and spread hateful words.  However, there are so many of you that have stuck with me, know me, and for you, I am eternally grateful.

There are two sides to every fence.  Make sure you look at the ground on both sides before you decide to jump off.  Usually, one side is green and the other one is full of dung.  This will be my last blog regarding this subject.  I apologize for this one being so negative but I am not one to let people walk on me.   From now on, it will be about my journey.  Time to move on!