Good morning!  It’s 6:56 am in Miramar Beach, FL.  You haven’t heard much from me lately, because I’ve had nothing new to report until now.  As of this morning, we had some tarballs wash ashore.  (See the photos below taken from Sheree’s cell phone.)

I wanted to drop in with a very quick blog to let you know that I’ll be out of pocket for the next several days.  The boys and I are driving back to Arkansas today.  We’re leaving the heat of Florida–relieved by a dip in the ocean–for the heat of Calico Rock, Arkansas–relieved by . . . coming back to the ocean.  Heat or no heat, we’re terribly excited for the trip!

If you followed the infamous “Spleen Blogs,” you know that my closest friends are those I met in my Jr. High years.  One of the guys, Jason, served a few years in Afghanistan [if you click on the "Soldiers" tab of the blog, you can see Jason before he left].  While there, he made it clear to all of the guys that he wanted a “Guy’s Trip” to the woods of Calico Rock–just Dads and their boys.  It’s been far too long!  Back in our college years, we used to camp and backpack much more often.  So we’re off for hiking, spelunking, rappelling, shooting guns, drinking from a fresh spring, cooking over a fire, telling stories, and sleeping under the stars.  Normal guy stuff.

Sheree and Bella are thrilled to stay here in Florida.  Some folks are just weird–she doesn’t relish the idea of sleeping in a tent when it’s 90 degrees, 173% humidity.   She doesn’t like the idea of swimming [with a bar of soap] in a creek.  Odd, I know, but I nonetheless love her.

SO–if you’re wondering about beach conditions, or anything Beyond Photography-related, she’ll still be manning the fort.  You can check the beach updates on her Facebook page (search for Sheree Baker Ramsey if you’re not already friends or become a fan of Beyond Photography, Inc.).  Otherwise, feel free to email with anything else:  beyondphotography1@gmail.com.  If you call, and it takes a few days to reply, forgive me–it’s because I have the phone, and I’m [radically] out of service area.  I’ll get back to you, though.

Thanks again for tuning in!  I’m sure you’ll see the ugly record from the camping expedition when I return.  I’ll probably also retell some of the stories from past camping experiences.  We’ll post them under the “cautionary tales” section.

I remember reveling in the justice meted out by The Lone Ranger. There I’d sit, a pajama-clad lad at 6:30 am, watching Tonto and the man in the mask. Every morning I’d tune in to the black and white world of justice and mercy, Lone Ranger style, on a black and white TV about the size of a Hot Wheels car—before we were trying to make TV’s as small as a molecule. Years later, in a galaxy far, far away [a movie theatre in Iowa], I cheered Luke Skywalker, then Indiana Jones at the cinema 150 in Little Rock. Hours I spent reliving the adventures of these daredevils, dreaming of the day I’d have my chance to prove my mettle! I’d ignore my own personal safety, save the day, get the girl, bow to the [wildy-cheering, adoring] crowds, utter something self-depreciating and witty [I’m still having trouble finding witty things to say], and ride into a sunset crowded with other victors like me. It’s one thing to follow a hero, it’s quite another to be called a hero by someone else.

Even when we arrived at the hospital to deliver our first baby, Sheree and I didn’t know what his first name would be. I’m thankful that we don’t have to choose surnames, or we’d still be wondering—3 names for one child?! Strangely enough, we didn’t know his first name, but we’d long ago decided on his middle name:

Musteen.

There’s power in the name we’re called. That’s why it was important for Sheree and me to put a meaningful name on each of our kids.

If you read my first blog—“Remember our Soldiers,” you learned a little about Jason Musteen. Towards the end of my 8^th grade year, I met Jason. Our friendship bonded during 3 years of Odyssey of the Mind [OM] competition (think—“Brain-Olmypics” for school-age nerds; now I’m an old nerd), and we’ve maintained our friendship through the years.

It’s important to me to record the history of Jason and Carson. I want Carson to be very aware of Musteen’s influence in my life, and therefore, Carson’s life. Every boy needs a hero. So, we’ve vowed that the guys would have their portraits created at every rank, no matter where Jason is stationed. Attached you’ll see a few photos of Major Musteen and Carson from their session back in January. Every boy needs a hero–I’m blessed that my boys get to know one firsthand.

Jason is now in Afghanistan. As you read this, I’d appreciate you mentioning a prayer for him, his wife, and 2 kids. Godspeed, Jason.

Godspeed to Josh Bartlett. Josh is with the 688 Engineer Company; 489^th Engineer Battalion. He is attached to the 3^rd Infantry Division, deploying to Iraq.

Probably 60% of our year’s business happens between October through December. For the past few years, I’ve worked 90+ hours per week, 7 days a week. By the time Christmas break arrives, I am ready to be done!!! The final session of last year really put things in perspective for me. Let me take you back . . .

I can finally see the light at the end of the insanely-busy tunnel: in 15 minutes we’re closing the studio for the Christmas holiday! I can’t wait to leave town. The phone rings, Alana answers.

“Yes, we do,” I hear her reply. “I see. Can you be here right now? We’re about to close for the holidays. Oh, yeah–Bill can work you in. No, his camera isn’t packed up. He can do it.”

I cannot believe my ears: what is she doing?!!

“No problem, we’re glad to help,” she continues. “I’ll see you in five minutes.”

Alana looks up at my incredulous expression. Apparently she doesn’t quite understand how badly I want to get out, and get out of town! She laughs. She actually laughs!!

“It’s okay,” she begins. “He’s a soldier.” Now I’m not as upset.

“He’s in uniform right now. They want a portrait of him in front of the Flag, they’re panicked because they can’t find someone who can do it for them. He and his Mom are in the car right now, on the interstate. They’ll be here in five minutes.”

Now I’m calm, glad that I can do it. It will only take about 10 minutes, I think to myself. I am about to leave town for a trip to Missouri, then Alabama. We’ll see dear family members, eat too much amazing food, drink to family and good health and our prosperity. . . if only I could get out of town.

Then Alana shakes me out of my selfishness. “He’s shipping out to Iraq. If they can’t get the photo today, then they won’t be able to get one before he leaves.”

Shame on me.

Bartlett is leaving town, too. Thanks to men and women like him, I’ll celebrate holidays with family, eat amazing food, and drink to our prosperity. When I raise a toast to prosperity, it’s raised to our peacekeepers. Our thanks and prayers go with you, Josh.

Jason soon leaves for Afghanistan. He’ll be stationed in Bagram, Afghanistan, where he’ll serve as the Chief of Training for the 101st Airborne Division. Remember him, his wife, and two kids in your prayers.

Jason and I share a long history. We’re finally old enough to tell young people, “I’ve known him over half of my life!” [Soon thereafter, we’d probably yell something like, "get off my lawn, kid!"]

We first met in the hallowed halls of Bryant Jr. High–in 1987. Since then, I’ve pulled him from jaws of death (as he dangled by one hand from a cliff), we’ve backpacked oodles of miles, we’ve shared a tent in sub-freezing temperatures (have you ever watched a guy thaw a frozen twinkie-on-a-stick over a fire?). We endured a “survival” camping weekend (we finally drove for pizza, ended up sleeping outdoors, rolled up in rotten carpet like a big “idiot enchilada”). We were nearly suspended from High School for not rolling a teacher’s home. Each was a Groomsman in the others’ wedding. He’s seen me slide, bare-chested, down the ice on Mt. Ranier, and vomit after a really, really bad Cuban cigar. Jason is exactly six months older than me. I remember our circle of buddies celebrating his 16th birthday party at McDonald’s [we even watched the video of Ronald, Grimace, and the Gang].

When I review my history, I know that I’m blessed. I am one of the few people that I know whose closest friends today are the friends he made in Jr. High. As I remember the biggest moments in my life, almost all of them have at least one of 7 people there with me. You’ll hear much more about the others in ensuing blogs.

Jason is the kind of guy that every kid should know–ridiculously funny, devoted, adventuresome, with a clear moral compass. If you want to know more, and why my firstborn has such a unique middle-name, make sure you follow the blogs.

To all of our soldiers: Godspeed.