What are Scientific Reasons We May Feel We are in the Presence of Ghosts?

If you believe in ghosts, you are far from alone. Around 45% of Americans believe in ghosts and as many as 18% of people will go so far as to say they have had contact with a ghost.

I will admit in 2007 actually seeing some type of apparition late at night during a misty rain at the downtown San Antonio, Texas headquarters of a major company I worked for (#20 in this article link) This occurance and my investigative nature intrigued me enough to study and become certified in “paranormal investigations” later in 2007.

.

I observed, participated in and wrote articles (for Examiner) from 2009-2011 regarding central Texas investigations performed by several paranormal teams.

Often, I asked others what exactly they feel like when they are “in the presence” of a supernatural spirit.

Are there possible scientific explanations for that tingling sensation you get on the back of your neck, or the sudden feeling of uneasiness with an origin you can’t quite place?

Popular San Antonio folklore picture and description:

.

Here are six potential explanations for that paranormal feeling that are rooted in science rather than the supernatural.

1. Low frequency sound

Just as the human eye can only see light at a range of frequencies—for example, we can’t see radio waves—the human ear can only hear sounds in a range of frequencies. Above ~20,000 Hertz, sounds are too high pitched for our ears to parse them, like the echolocation calls of most bats that fall in this ultrasonic range.

Similarly, human ears have trouble hearing low-frequency sounds below ~20 Hertz—known as infrasound—but such sounds do not go totally unnoticed. In a 2003 study, 22% of concert goers who were exposed to sounds at 17 Hertz reported feeling uneasy or sorrowful, getting chills, or “nervous feelings of revulsion and fear.”

So what are some of the more ordinary origins of such low frequency sounds? Weather events like earthquakes and volcanic activity or lightning, and communication between animals including elephants, whales, and hippos can all produce infrasound. And if you don’t live by any volcanoes or hippos but still think your house may be haunted? Humans also create low frequency sound via diesel engines, wind turbines, and some loud speakers or chemical explosions.

2. Mold

Breathing in toxic mold can be bad for your respiratory system, but it can also be bad for your brain. In several houses and buildings where I was involved in “ghost hunting” I noticed and documented mold.

Exposure to mold is known to cause neurologic symptoms like delirium, dementia, or irrational fears. So is it a coincidence that the houses we suspect are haunted also tend to be in disrepair and so quite possibly full of toxic mold?

Scientists have worked to draw a firm link between the presence of mold and reported ghost sightings, but so far the evidence is mostly anecdotal.

3. Carbon monoxide

Just as breathing in mold could lead us to see, hear, and feel things that aren’t really there, so too can breathing in too much carbon monoxide. We have carbon monoxide detectors in our homes to make sure we are not breathing in this odorless, colorless gas that slowly poisons us while going undetected by our senses.

During a significant effort to investigate and record any paranormal activity in a historically significant crime scene off of Main Street between downtown and San Antonio College, I noted the investigative team’s remote bus was emitting exhaust fumes where some of the members were resting against a fence near the street curb.

Bus command center

.

Some were reporting light headedness and other symptoms. I mentioned it to the lead investigator who promptly had the mobile control center moved away to a safer location.

It is important to note that before a carbon monoxide gas leak poisons us, it can cause auditory hallucinations, a feeling of pressure on your chest, and an “unexplained feeling of dread.”

My father, a homicide detective for SAPD told me about a family in the 1960s who moved into a new house only to hear footsteps, see apparitions, and feel malicious paranormal presences. It turned out to be the result of carbon monoxide poisoning from a broken furnace.

4. The power of suggestion

Studies suggest that we are more likely to believe in a paranormal experience if someone else who was there can back up our belief. So while we might be able to convince ourselves that we were somehow mistaken about what we saw or heard, we tend to put more credence into someone else’s eye witness account if it also backs our suspicions. So our belief in ghosts can be catching.

5. Drafts

When I was young (in the 1960s) we didn’t have air conditioning in our schools and at home. We relied on fans, water coolers, and opened windows. I suspect as days get hotter and air conditioning becomes more expensive, some of us still rely on opening windows. Opening windows on opposite ends of a room can create a nice breeze, but it can also create cold spots as air flow outside changes, causing cooler air to enter a warmer room. Drafts can also sneak in through chimneys and cause doors to slam or door knobs to rattle. So before you schedule a séance, try closing a few windows.

6. We enjoy being afraid.

Neurologists have found that our brains release dopamine, a chemical associated with pleasure, when we are afraid. Exactly how much dopamine and how many receptors we have for receiving it can influence whether you are a person that enjoys being frightened or someone who would rather avoid scary movies or rides altogether. So for some, letting our imaginations run wild with the possibilities of cohabitating with ghosts, athough scary, may also produce a bonus euphoric high.

Of course, believing in ghosts also allows us to believe in an existence after death, which ultimately can be comforting. That is, if you can get past the feeling that someone is standing just behind you as you read this.

Here are some other articles on the subject:

Murder at the Gunter Hotel

The Donkey Lady

_________________________

In God We Trust

Thanks for supporting independent true journalism with a small tip. Dodie & Jack

We are thankful to our incredible sponsors!

Please Support These American Owned Businesses

___________________________

Get Your Natural Vitamins A & D from the Sea!

CLICK HERE for GOOD HEALTH!

For Information

Now Available CLICK Here!

History, Texas, Pioneers, Genealogy

From award-winning Texas author Cynthia Leal Massey.

_________________________

CLICK: PARK LANE by Rebecca Taylor

Three Fingers and a Bird

The True Story of the Profound Lesson I Learned in 1963 on a Barber’s Chair

Just eight miles south-southwest of where I thought John Wayne fought at the Alamo was a spot in San Antonio where serious thinking and deciphering came into my life.

Slightly west of the halfway point along the street I saw President Kennedy on the day before his assassination–between the San Jose Mission and Kelly Air Force Base–is a region where my father was considered “patron.”

Starting on the Southeast corner of Southwest Military Drive, and heading south for eleven blocks on Commercial Street, was the first of five business pillars of our community.

Three proprietors were the foundation of commerce on Commercial Avenue and gaining the kind of momentum two others, Joe Barry and Mr. Stacey had held for a number of years. 

The first was Raymond “Bud” Jones of the “Meal A Minute” 89 cent All-You-Can-Eat -Fish fame. Bud, who passed away in October 2018, opened his legendary restaurant in 1959 at the Military Drive/Commercial southeast corner. Today, this South Side institution still serves the All-You-Can-Eat-Fish for $9.75 with his daughter Cathy and family running it.

Joe Barry owned the Terrell Wells grocery and gas store that eventually became the original VFW Post 8541. My daddy, Walter “Corky” Dennis, would go in to buy a pack of Camels (later on, he graduated to Salem’s) as I would sit in the car and look at the screen on a front door. It was painted yellow and blue with a gingham dressed girl smiling with bread in her hands proclaiming that we should “Reach for Sunbeam Bread.” 

Mercy, did I have a crush on that pretty blond haired-blue eyed beauty! I wondered often if she was kin to Dorothy of Kansas and Toto fame. Perhaps a blond cousin?

Later on, when I became at least as good at ‘cipherin’ as Jethro Bodine, I figured her out. I deduced she was the older sister of another girl and her dog– the little tan one on Coppertone signs who was embarrassed about having her panties almost torn off.

Across the street from Terrell Wells Grocery was Stacey’s Barber Shop. With a prominent barber pole on the south front lawn, Mr. and Mrs. Stacey lived on the north half of their shop in a small white wood framed house.

It was a matter of honor, but mostly courage, to sit up high on the board placed on the white arms of the barber chair of Mr. Stacey. I proudly received my trims from the same man who had cut my great grandfather John’s, grandpa Jack’s and father Corky’s hair.

I liked to go there with Daddy. But Mom, not so much. Momma would always make me sit close to the front door as we walked in. It just did not seem quite right for a girl like Momma, to be in a barber shop. There was nothing really wrong with it. Other mothers and even Mrs. Stacey came in. But a guy could not really appreciate the “feel” of the place with women in there.

There seemed to be more laughter and the men could talk about men’s things like “baseball,” or “a missile crisis” when the women were away.

In early December, Dad took me in. Grandpa Dennis was in one of the waiting chairs at the far right end facing the barber chairs on the left.

Without Momma around I could penetrate farther in and get away from the front door where the Porky Pig, Zorro or Superman books were. Sitting between Daddy and Grandpa I could scan the cover of nearby True Detective magazines. Mr. and Mrs. Stacey would never allow anything more manly than that. But to a guy just about to turn eight, True Detective was very mannish. (Note: The word “Macho” had not been invented yet as far as I know).

As each customer walked in, they were passed an 8 x 10 black and white glossy of what was purported to be the “last picture of JFK before he was shot.” One of the barbers had bought it for a dollar at the drug store located next to St. Leo’s Church on South Flores Street during their 1963 Fall Festival and Tamale Sale. Dad let me look at it and I felt important.

“Okay, Jack, you are next,” said one of the barbers. He was talking to Grandpa, who got up and sat down in a man’s size barber’s chair.

I did not notice who just walked in. I was determining if Daddy would let me go next, after Grandpa, instead of him. If so, Mr. Stacey would cut my hair. Then my odds for getting a sucker were better. Some of the other barbers did not always remember to pass out the suckers. Mr. Stacey never forgot, plus he would let me choose the color. I would leave the yellows or browns for the poor kids that were stuck with the other barbers.

Richard Floyd, my step grandfather sat down beside me grinning.

“Paw Paw,” I grinned back. We hugged.

Paw Paw was a tall human being.   With only one good eye and a few good teeth, he was not much for the world to see, but to me he walked on water.

“What are you doing, gettin’ your ears lowered, Booger?” He waved his hand from front to back over his head.

“They only charge Paw Paw half price, because I only have half my hair.”

What a treat it was to have two grandfathers and a father in the same barber shop all at the same time.

“Are you ready for your birthday?” Paw Paw asked.

When Grandpa Dennis heard that, he called me up and reached in his wallet. He handed me a dollar bill.

“Grandpa didn’t forget your birthday,” he said. “You tell your daddy to get you something with this.”

Paw Paw saw what was going on and he pulled TWO dollars out of his billfold and handed it to me with Happy Birthday instructions to tell my Mom to get me something with them.

Three whole dollars in a matter of seconds and it was the most money I had up to that point in my life. (Note: That amount in 1963 is worth $25.36 today).

When I sat back down, secretly enjoying the $3 in my pocket, my mind immediately jumped to disenchantment. Suddenly, my brain realized what people meant when they said “bad luck or trouble comes in threes.” And it had nothing to do with the money.

I had been waiting for the third calamity to reveal itself ever since my beloved cockerspaniel Blackie died on November 4th and John F. Kennedy on the 22nd.  Within a little over a month’s time, there I was, in the middle of the prohibited end of the barber shop and suddenly going through trauma numero tres!

It was at this moment I discovered that BOTH of my grandfathers had three fingers missing from their left hands.

What was this? Why hadn’t I really noticed their left hands before? Or maybe I did, but it did not register until I saw them both in the same room. Or was it because I was almost eight and noticing more adult things? After all, I had just scanned the covers of two True Detectives.

For at least the next few weeks I was terrified of everything my hands touched. Perhaps this was some kind of omen or family curse? What were the odds? Two grandfathers with the same hands missing three fingers!

My Daddy, policeman Walter “Corky” Dennis, was one of the motorcycle escorts next to the President’s car on the Kennedy motorcade during his San Antonio visit the day before his assassination in Dallas.

Just in time for Christmas, Daddy explained that Paw Paw was only my step-grandfather, so it really did not count—-there was no family curse.

“You do not have to worry about it any more.”

Thank God for Daddy’s explanation. I didn’t know how much longer I could have held out keeping my left hand in my pocket everywhere I went. Each morning when I awoke, I would look to see if those fingers on that hand were still there. Somehow it would sneak out from under the pillow during my sleep.

Definitely, I would not dare do what the other boys were inventing in the cafeteria.   By placing a pencil on top of their middle finger and bending the adjacent fingers over the pencil, they could “shoot the bird.”

Not quite understanding what that meant, as far as I was concerned if I shot that bird it was sure to be a recipe for the family curse. I knew that bird had wings for a reason. Around me it was going to just have to fly away. I did not intend to lose my three fingers over a bird.
     

We are thankful to our incredible sponsors!

Please Support These American Owned Businesses

___________________________

Get Your Natural Vitamins A & D from the Sea!

CLICK HERE for GOOD HEALTH!
CLICK HERE for GOOD HEALTH!

___________________________

Now Available CLICK Here!
From award-winning Texas author Cynthia Leal Massey.

Happy 82 Birthday Sir Tom Jones, From My Mom in Heaven

Knowing I’m an advid autograph collector, my mother, Geraldine Dennis was always on the lookout and obtained several signatures for me.

In April 1969, she took me to a Tom Jones concert with my cousins Carolyn Sanders Gerland and James Johnson at the Hemisfair Arena in San Antonio, Texas. Gladys Knight and the Pips and comedian Norm Crosby also appeared.

They performed on a stage, in the center of the arena, with an amazing orchestra on one side. I was only 13 and the entire show was incredible. Tom Jones sang such hits as “It’s Not Unusual,” “Delilah,” and “Help Yourself.”

I was mesmerized by the strength in his voice and boldness of his showmanship. (It would be three years later, in April 1972, when I would see Elvis Presley for the first time at that same arena…and up until that concert, never did I believe Tom Jones could be beat. LOL.)

Elvis & Tom, 1969

For years Mom would laugh and say, “When I die I want to come back reincarnated as a gospel backup singer so I can stand behind Tom Jones and watch him work on stage.”

She meant it.

On her 50th birthday we took her to the Magic Time Machine restaurant. It first opened in 1973, the year I graduated from high school, and continues to be a fun favorite in San Antonio.

 The Time Machine is like no other restaurant I’ve ever seen, with no two seating areas alike. In San Antonio, you can sit at the Sweethearts Table, in The Attic, a Thatched Hut or even an old Refrigerator. Mom loved the salad bar, a shiny red 1952 MG-TD Roadster modified to serve as a soup and salad vegetables.

“The thing that sets The Magic Time Machine apart is our zany cast of characters who transport our guests into another point in time,” their website bills themselves. “Our servers dress in costumes representing popular pop culture icons from the past, present, and future. The entertainment comes from the humorous interaction with your server in a family friendly environment. Pirate or Princess? Hero or Villain? We have characters for every occasion and group. At The Magic Time Machine, ‘Laughing Aloud is Allowed’!”

It was a fun night that January 17, 1988. Elvis was in the house and Mom told her friends Wayne and Betty Lewis, “I wished Tom Jones would make an appearance too” and explained her reincarnation wish.

We had great laughs but it was especially joyful to see her open my present to her—an 8×10″ glossy personally autographed picture of Tom Jones. The smile and happy tears on her face endure in my thoughts even today.

I took mom to see Tom Jones two more times (she had even seen him in Las Vegas) both in San Antonio’s Majestic Theater and the Laurie Auditorium. Each time she repeated her reincarnation wish–“gospel singer behind Tom Jones.”

When Mom died in September 2006, the funeral at First Baptist Church in Boerne, Texas was full. My sister Bobbi Shipman and I both addressed our dear family and friends, some we hadn’t seen in decades. Of course, there was great emotion and sadness.

To end it all, a gospel group from a Black San Antonio church led by Janet Givens (she has sang to royalty and backed up Michael Bolton) practically blew the stained glass windows out of the church with their songs. They concluded with “Oh Happy Day!”

Mom’s funeral was appropriately uplifting…just like her.

Happy Birthday Sir Tom Jones

I imagine that as Sir Tom Jones celebrates his 82nd birthday here on Earth June 7th, Mom will be wishing him good will and happiness from Heaven–and looking at his behind.

We are thankful to our incredible sponsors!

Please Support These American Owned Businesses

___________________________

Get Your Natural Vitamins A & D from the Sea!

CLICK HERE for GOOD HEALTH!
CLICK HERE for GOOD HEALTH!

___________________________

Now Available CLICK Here!
From award-winning Texas author Cynthia Leal Massey.

We Must Honor Veterans For Their Service to Protect Our Freedoms

A very dear friend, 95-year old World War II Veteran, Ralph Watkins passed away on Oct. 28, 2020. For several years we were Whataburger breakfast buddies and I enjoyed his tales of service in the Pacific during the war.

Ralph & me celebrating his 93rd birthday.

Virtually every morning diners would stop by to shake his hand and thank him for his service. He was humbled but honored they would see his veterans cap and acknowledge him.

Dodie and I would also visit him at his home and towards the end through a window outside his hospice bedroom. Among the last things he smiled and said was “tell them I didn’t die of that damn COVID!”

With this article, I’m making good on his request.

Read Whataburger With Ralph” by clicking here.

Earler today I ran across this picture:

It reminded me of Ralph, my own grandfather, other friends and brave family members and all of our veterans. We owe so much to their service and sacrifice to protect and save our precious freedoms.

A few years ago I was changing planes at Dallas Love Field when I saw a crowd of people, some visibly crying and emotional, walking away from windows overlooking some sort of ceremony at the Southwest Airlines gates down below.

I was in a hurry, but asked a bystander what was going on.

“A Vietnam veteran is coming home,” the kind lady said, gently waving a small American flag towards me.

I gave a quick salute and hurried on to my connecting flight.

Last week, going through some old files, I found a note to remind myself of the “Vietnam veteran coming home.” Here are the results:

The Veteran was Col. Roy Abner Knight Jr. who as a pilot in 1967 was shot down and his body had only been recently found and identified.

A notable part of this story was Col. Knight said goodbye to his family at Love Field 52 years prior. His son, Bryan, was  only 5 years old when he left to serve our country in Vietnam.

Bryan Knight grew up to  be a Captain for Southwest Airlines.  It was he who flew the plane that brought his father’s remains home back to the same airport where they said what would be their final farewells.

Capt. Knight touched down on the tarmac while a crowd of onlookers, who had been informed about the powerful moment over airport intercom, watched in awe from the terminal.

Right before my plane arrived, hundreds of people were watching in silence as the flag-draped casket of the fallen airman was taken off the jet.

Col. Knight served as a clerk typist in the Philippines, Japan and Korea before attending Officer Candidate School in 1953. He married his wife, Patricia, after being commissioned a 2nd Lt., and the pair had three children together, Roy III, Gayann and Bryan.

Col. Knight then served as a fighter pilot in Germany and France before returning to Texas with his family in 1963 to become an instructor pilot. He was called to serve in the 602nd Tactical Fighter Squadron during the Vietnam War in 1966 and reported to Southeast Asia in January 1967. There, he flew combat missions almost daily until being shot down in Laos on May 19 of the same year.

Col. Knight’s body was not recovered because of the hostile location where his plane crashed, and he was declared dead by the Air Force in 1974.

He was posthumously awarded the Air Force Cross, Silver Star, Distinguished Flying Cross, Purple Heart and six Air Medals for his actions, his obituary states.

Col. Knight’s family remained without closure until February 2019, when his remains were recovered by personnel assigned to the Defense POW/MIA Accounting Agency and identified with the help of dental records.

The veteran’s casket was flown home by his youngest son to be buried with full military honors in Weatherford, Texas.

One article reported Southwest Airlines said they were “honored to support [the veteran’s] long-hoped homecoming and join in tribute to Col. Knight as well as every other military hero who has paid the ultimate sacrifice while serving in the armed forces.”

“Earlier this year, Captain Knight learned that his father’s remains were positively identified which began the mission of returning Col. Knight to his home in North Texas,” the company explained. “Today, his son flew his father home to Love Field where he was received with full military honors to express a nation’s thanks for his Dad’s service to our country.”

We are thankful to our incredible sponsors!

Please Support These American Owned Businesses

___________________________

Get Your Natural Vitamins A & D from the Sea!

CLICK HERE for GOOD HEALTH!
CLICK HERE for GOOD HEALTH!

___________________________

Now Available CLICK Here!
From award-winning Texas author Cynthia Leal Massey.

The Most I Ever Laughed in a Cemetery was an Unexpected Roar

How Rodney Dangerfield Got Some Respect

A Hollywood Visit

The most I ever laughed in a cemetery was in December 2011. I remember it well because a few days later my father died.

The eccentric oddball that I am, on a Disneyland vacation with my two youngest sons, Jack and Brady, I took them to Hollywood first. Talk about weirdos, they were all out on the Hollywood Walk of Fame between Grauman’s Chinese Theater and the Wax Museum.

Batman, The Flash, a John Wayne Gacy Clown, a Dracula, and a Pokemon character I’d never heard of, were hustling to pose for cameras and pandering for dollars.

Then we went by the Westwood Mann Theater where in 2007, I interviewed Justin Timberlake, Mike Meyers, Cameron Diaz, Eddie Murphy, Julie Andrews, Tippi Hedron, Antonio Banderas, Selena Gomez, and others at the red carpet premiere of the Shrek the Third movie.

After a bite nearby, I drove us to one of my favorite LA destinations, the Pierce Brothers Westwood Village Memorial Park and Mortuary. 

The intent was to show reverence and respect for entertainment history. I explained who baseball great Joe DiMaggio was and how each week, until he died, had red roses sent to Marilyn Monroe’s resting place.

It was DiMaggio, her ex-husband, who was responsible for Monroe’s funeral arrangements in 1962. He selected Westwood Cemetery because it was the gravesites location of her mother’s friend, Grace Goddard, and Goddard’s aunt, Ana Lower, both of whom had cared for Monroe as a child.

Near her crypt was Dean Martin’s, who I vividly recalled seeing perform at the Las Vegas MGM (now Ballys) Hotel Celebrity Theater in 1986.

One of the primary reasons I want to visit this cemetery is to pay respects to one of my favorite singers Roy Orbison. On this occasion I was upset because after 23 years since his death, there was still not a headstone. Because there was none before, I made a note to identify his site beforehand. Beside his grave was a newly buried site that I found out later was his wife Barbara Orbison, who passed away just two weeks before. I wonder if there’s a tombstone now?

Both sons were unexpectedly intrigued as we walked among the gravesites of television stars like Don Knotts (they knew who he was), Carroll O’Connor, Robert Stack, Bob Crane, Brian Keith, Farrah Fawcett, Sebastian Cabot, Jack Klugman, Merv Griffin, Peter Falk, Eddie Albert, Jonathan Harris and Jim Backus.

Movie stars Burt Lancaster, George C. Scott, Jack Lemmon, Walter Matthau, Donna Reed, Janet Leigh, Karl Maldin, Eva Gabor and James Coburn.

They were especially curious about the tragic deaths of Natalie Wood, Dorothy Stratten, Heather O’Rourke, Dominique Dunne, and Victor Kilian.

Music entertainers are Beachboy Carl Wilson, Janis Joplin, Mel Torme, Minnie Riperton, Frank Zappa, Buddy Rich, Peggy Lee, Ray Conniff, and Les Brown.

Notable authors and writers included Truman Capote, Ray Bradbury, Robert Block, Jackie Collins, Harry Essex, Ariel and Will Durant.

Seeing the marker for comedian
Fanny Brice (later, Tim Conway would be laid there) made me smile.

We remained respectful and solemn until we walked by the gravesite of the man born Jacob Cohen, who later legally changed his name to Jack Roy.

The tombstone was etched “RODNEY DANGERFIELD.” The epitaph reads:

THERE GOES THE NEIGHBORHOOD

Amongst the peaceful chirping of birds in gently waving trees, amid the serenity and beauty of that well manicured cemetery, I roared with laughter.

Hilariously funny in life, Rodney remains funny after death. Rodney passed away on October 5, 2004 in Los Angeles.

Here are some of Rodney Dangerfield’s memorable one-liners:

🔹My wife and I were happy for twenty years. Then we met.

🔹I haven’t spoken to my wife in years. I didn’t want to interrupt her.

🔹I looked up my family tree and found three dogs using it.

🔹I told my psychiatrist that everyone hates me. He said I was being ridiculous – everyone hasn’t met me yet.

🔹When I played in the sandbox, the cat kept covering me up.

🔹I could tell that my parents hated me. My bath toys were a toaster and a radio.

🔹My mother had morning sickness after I was born.

🔹What a dog I got, his favorite bone is in my arm.

🔹When I was a kid my parents moved a lot, but I always found them.

🔹My father carries around the picture of the kid who came with his wallet.


🔹A bike in town keeps running me over….

….It’s a vicious cycle.

🔹Is a cow that won’t give milk a milk dud….
….or an udder failure?

🔹I’m so good at sleeping….
….I can do it with my eyes closed.

Dangerfield with Jackie Gleason.

🔹I took a video of my shoe yesterday….
….It has some great footage.

🔹Today at the bank, an old woman asked me to check her balance….
….so I pushed her over.

🔹My wife says I’m absolutely useless at fixing appliances….
….Well, she’s in for a shock.

🔹How many lawyers does it take to fill an ambulance?….
….I don’t know. No-one’s ever tried to save one.

🔹A horse walks into a bar….
….The bartender says, ”Hey.”….
….The horse replies, “Sure.”

🔹To improve my sex life I took Viagra and a bit of cannabis….

….I just ended up with stiff joints.

🔹Two guys walk into a bar….
….The third one ducked

🔹I’ve been watching women’s beach volleyball, and there was a wrist injury….
….but I should be okay by tomorrow

R.I.P. Rodney Dangerfield.
(November 22, 1921 – October 5, 2004)

We are thankful to our incredible sponsors!

Please Support These American Owned Businesses

___________________________

Get Your Natural Vitamins A & D from the Sea!

CLICK HERE for GOOD HEALTH!
CLICK HERE for GOOD HEALTH!

___________________________

Now Available CLICK Here!
From award-winning Texas author Cynthia Leal Massey.

Grandpa Arthur’s Macaroni Salad

Our grandfather, Bassett Arthur was a cook in the Navy Seabees primarily in the Philippines in World War II. After the war he remained a chef and cook at restaurants in Brady and Abilene, Texas.

WWII Navy Seabee

He just happened to be the great nephew of Charlie Bassett, the legendary first sheriff/marshal of Dodge City. Kansas (The fictional one was more famous: Marshal Matt Dillion of TV’s Gunsmoke).

I was mesmerized as a young boy, having the honor sitting on a red Naugahyde bar stool peering over the counter of the Bell Diner watching his magic.

Like the conductor of a symphony orchestra, Grandpa would twirl, wave, and manipulate his spatulas across his grill and pans like no other.

He left me several of his cook books and handwritten recipes, many I’ve enjoyed over the years. (Check out his Green Beans Salad here.)One of my favorites is his macaroni salad. Here’s my version that I’ve modified to near perfection and have received many compliments for. Enjoy.

Ingredients

One 16-ounce package salad macaroni pasta

1 cup red onion, diced

1 cup yellow or white onion, diced

1 cup celery, diced

1 cup medium Cheddar, diced

1 cup Swiss cheese, diced

1/2 cup Parmesan, grated

1 cup salami, diced or bacon, crumbled

1 cup dill pickles, diced

1 cup diced or sliced black olives

1 tablespoon H-E-B garlic salt

1 tablespoon fresh minced garlic

1/2 teaspoon ground white pepper

2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper

1/2 to 1 teaspoon cayenne pepper (to  heat preference. I like more, but this is a key secret ingredient).

1/2 teaspoon dry mustard

1/2 teaspoon celery salt

1 1/2 cups mayonnaise

Directions

1. Add 2 quarts of water to a medium stockpot and bring to a boil. Add macaroni and cook about 9 minutes (or according to package directions. Don’t overcook to prevent it from falling apart when tossing. Rinse until cool. Drain well and let it dry out a little bit.

2. Add pasta to a large bowl.  Gently fold in onion,  celery, cheeses ,salami (or bacon) dill pickles, and black olives. Refrigerate uncovered, overnight (or at the very least 2 hours).

3. Mix the garlic salt, minced garlic, white pepper, black pepper, cayenne pepper, dry mustard and celery salt together. Add to salad. Fold in the pimentos. Fold in 1/2 cup of mayonnaise at a time. Refrigerate again for at least 30 minutes to 1 hour.