Memorial Day weekend is usually packed with BBQs, picnics, fishing at the lake, the first camp-out of summer, and graduations across the country. All celebrations of life, of milestones made, of classes finished, of hard-work accomplished. But on Monday, as we gather with family and friends please keep this face of Memorial day in mind.

On this weekend I hope every American thinks about the love of his country that this handsome young boy’s father must have had. He is representative of all the children who have lost a parent to war. He represents all the family members who have felt that lose so keenly.

My own father was but a toddler when his mother received news that my grandfather’s ship had been sunk in the Pacific returning from a battle and that only a handful of survivors had been rescued. Although my grandfather was never found so that my father, grandmother and family could have a service, his loss was no less painful for them.

The young man in this photo had a father who gave up his life in a battle that we sent him to fight. He wasn’t a Marine because he needed a job and he wasn’t a hero because he needed a college degree on America’s dime. He was something more than most of us could ever hope to be…and all Americans need to be able to look this child in the eyes and tell him that we truly honor his father and we will NEVER take his sacrifice for granted.

Americans owe him nothing less.

I have been to a full military funeral for a Marine who gave his life recently in Afghanistan and I know the same scene as is in the photo above has played out many times across America.

This young boy has a long road ahead but he is holding his head up and making his father proud…now we need to make his father proud of us.

Stand up America and on this Memorial Day and remember what it is about our country that is worth dying for, and NEVER for one moment forget those who have sacraficed for it.

Memorial Day weekend usually finds me honoring our Veterans somewhere across America.

This year though, I find myself in Fort Smith, Arkansas to honor one of America’s many colorful characters that fill our history books.  Bass Reeves, slave, farmer, deputy & American hero.

So who is Bass?

Bass Reeves redefined our perception of a true American hero. Born a slave to a Texas farmer and politician, Reeves fled to Indian Territory in the 1860s to avoid the usual punishment of death for fighting with his master. Reeves lived among the Seminole and Creek Indians until the Emancipation Proclamation, freeing African-Americans from slavery and oppression. Settling in Van Bure, Arkansas, Reeves married, began a family, and tended his farm.

In 1875, Isaac C. Parker – a newly appointed federal judge – set out to tame the Indian Territory, now known as Oklahoma. James Fagan, the tenth U.S. Marshal appointed the the district, began recruitting 200 deputies to capture fugitives so that Judge Parker’s court could administer justice. Bass Reeves was a natural choice because of his intimate knowledge of Indian Territory, his skills in multiple dialects, his markmanship, and his tenacity.

By the time Reeves retired in 1907, this former slave had served 32 years as a federal peace officer, arresting more than 3,000 felons. Reeves finished his law enforcement career as a member of the Muskogee, Oklahoma Police Department. Many scholars consider Reeves to be the most outstanding frontier hero in United States history.

(Copied from the website www.deputybassreeves.com)

All of that is just a little bit of history….  but today I joined my good friends Harold (HT) Holden and his wife Edna Mae at the unveiling of the Bass Reeves Monument, “Into the Territories”.  H is the wonderful sculptor who has been working on this masterpiece for several years now and in honor of it’s completion Edna Mae and I co-wrote  a song honoring Bass that I sang at the event.

Now our song may not be as beautiful as H’s monument, but then not much is!

I know most of you weren’t able to join us today but I do hope you will stop by the Pendergraft Park in Fort Smith sometime and learn more about Bass and see this wonderful monument by my dear friend HT Holden, one of today’s finest Western artists.

Here a while back, I was invited to do a concert at the Parker County Cowboy Church, out west of ‘ol Ft. Worth.  Real nice folks, and afterwards I got to talking with a super family, Bob & Johnie and their three grown kids.  I kinda got the feeling that we’d met before.

Well, turns out that they occasionally have a vendor booth at various events and set up their Western toy store , and I’d met them in Abilene, TX at the Western Heritage Classic a few years back. I had even bought a cap pistol from them.

“Oh yeah,” I replied, “I remember now!” I went on to exclaim how much I enjoyed cap guns, and that they are a kid’s icon that seemed to be “going the way of the buffalo” and getting harder to find; the good quality diecast metal one’s anyway.

Well, that’s when they told me that they were the last, and one and only maker of “Made in the U.S.A.” American toy cap pistols left, and would we like to come out for a tour?

Like a chorus, the Hampton’s replied, “You bet!” in unison.

The Wild West Toys folks went on to tell us that the family makes all the guns themselves and that the molds they were using had been rescued from the scrap heap and had once belonged to the vast Gene Autry empire! Needless to say, this got my attention and was topped only by their invitation to let the two boys build their own cap pistols.

That’s when I informed them to count heads again, that there were three boys — not just two!

Next afternoon found the four of us at their self-built 1860’s style, Texas log home. We visited and drank coffee while I threw my neck out of joint looking at what amounted to a wall to wall, floor to ceiling, western museum. There were toy guns, a wonderland of Western toys, saddles, movie posters, vintage hats and boots. I could have looked forever except for the fact that my sons were chomping at the bits to get out to the shop and see where the real magic happens.

We soon found ourselves in the heart of Wild West Toys, picking out the model cap pistols we were going to build. We guys selected the Bronco 44, while Lisa chose the Maverick. Both designs are made of heavy Zinc and are finely engraved and etched.

These toy pistols have the heft, feel, and workmanship of that by-gone age when toys were made to last, and there was pride felt by both maker and owner.

We watched and (of course) helped out with the assemblage of precision pieces,

the finish work, then mounting of cylinder,

hammer, and trigger assemblies, followed by the heavy springs, arms, and levers.

For the final touch, all four of us kids individualized our weapons in the hand grip department.

Out of a huge selection of different styles and colors, I chose a classic Ivory set with raised Longhorn steer heads.

The wow factor was about as high as it gets, but went even higher when Bob handed us each our own supply of caps then said, “It’s time to load em up, make some smoke and noise!”

And so we did.

Call it magic if you will, but in that short time I had gone from a responsible, middle-aged man, who had carved out a respectable place in the Western entertainment world, to a gun-toting ten-year-old, just waiting for anyone to draw down on me.

As we stood quiet for a moment, letting our barrels cool and the smoke clear, Johnie looked up at the low, dark clouds saying she thought they could use another rain, but that it didn’t seem like it was gonna turn loose anytime soon.

At that I swaggered out into the open, pulled my brand spankin’ new Bronco 44 pistola out and emptied it into the Texas sky proclaiming that “Some well-placed holes in the clouds would do just the trick!”

I was ten-feet-tall as we walked back to the house, my shirt soaked from the rain, my powder smoke drifting away in the breeze.

This is by no means an endorsement and I’m not getting paid, but if you want more information on Wild West Toys American Made toy cap guns or their store please visit their website at www.wildwesttoys.com and tell them “Sherriff Dubbya and his posse” said “Howdy!”

Home again, home again, jiggity jig…

Whoever wrote that certainly wasn’t returning from almost THREE full months on the road with two kids.  It was more like “Home again, home again, collapse at the door…”

Yes, three (3) months.  What started as a two year commitment to travel with the kids and homeschool them has, over the past three months, turned into a true once-in-a lifetime adventure we never could have imagined.  I can say in all honesty that given the opportunity, I would do it all over again.  But, if you had showed me last fall a map and calendar of what 2012 was shaping up into, I think I probably would have chickened out. 

Maybe that’s why God doesn’t lay out everything He has in store for us all at once.  Consider all the things we would miss in life when the mountain in front of us looks too high to climb.

Well, I guess that brings me back here, home after almost three full months traveling in an SUV on the road with two very active and energetic young boys.  And where is here?  Well, it’s a state of exhaustion, amazement, enlightenment, and sheer awe at all the truly wonderful things and people we met and visited along the way. 

We began the adventure at the end of January with a trip back to the annual National Cowboy Poetry & Music Festival in Elko, Nevada.  Neither of these boys had been to Elko and I hadn’t been back with R.W. in years.  The best thing about Elko and its legendary gathering – it never changes.  It is pure “cowboy” in so many ways and yet it constantly seeks to show how our culture is so connected to similar cultures and people from around the world who are so very different but have much in common.  The artistry displayed, heard and shared at Elko is like nowhere else; a venerable feast for the cowboy (or cowgirl) spirit.  Buckaroos, cowpunchers, vaqueros, ranchers, friends, fans, family – they all gather for one week to experience the expression of that spirit and to feed their own souls with music, poetry, stories, art, culture, and friends.

Two days up to Elko through Colorado, Wyoming, Utah and Nevada, a four day stay for the gathering, then another two days back home.  The following week at home flew by with doctor appointments, business meetings, church meetings, a Boy Scout banquet that required a cake and table center-piece, car tune up and oil change, surgery on a sick horse, and setting up everything for the five-week trip we were about to embark upon. Not to mention the usual stuff that goes on like home-school, music business, ranch chores, and dealing with a winter storm.

Then it was off to the East! With the excitement of a new adventure we loaded up and pointed the SUV towards Texas. And then Oklahoma, Arkansas, and Tennessee where we started out the musical portion of the trip in Nashville with R.W. filming a couple of music videos right down on Music Row.  The next day R.W. was invited to a singer-songwriter night at Douglas Cafe and connecting with both new friends (including the up-and-coming new group The Henningsens (who have written several top hits for The Band Perry), and old friends (like cowboy partner Dave C. who manages Charlie Daniels, and fellow Savannah Music artist, Michelle Wright).  No matter what industry you are in, it is always great re-connecting with the folks you hope to work with in the future. 

From Nashville it was off to Pigeon Forge for a four day festival called Saddle Up (one of our personal favorites!), then down to Chattanooga, farther south to Georgia, back up to Chattanooga, over to South Carolina, up to North Carolina, and then Virginia for over a week at the Williamsburg Film Festival. From there we headed back West through West Virginia, Kentucky, Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, Kansas and Oklahoma… You get the picture.

Along the way we went caving in Chattanooga, had a blast at Rock City, visited Wade Hampton III’s homes in Columbia, SC.

We toured historic Jamestown and Williamsburg, where we all spent some time in the stocks.  The boys and I spent an afternoon at the beach on the Atlantic side of America and even got to watch the regal USS Enterprise ship out on her final deployment before she is decommissioned.

Somewhere along the way we toured the Great Smoky Mountains, Monticello, Greenbrier Resort, Churchill Downs and the majestic Gateway Arch in St Louis, Mo among other things.

You might think that after those five weeks a little rest was in order, but no, thankfully R.W. had another job waiting for him in Texas the next weekend to help pay for all our fun!  So after five days of “rest” and unpacking, repacking, ranch repairs, another car tune-up, and several kids’ activities it was time to load up and head back to Northeast Texas for another five days on the road.  (Thankfully for me, this was an “all male event” so I was able to stay home and at least get the laundry caught up!)

Home again, home again, jiggity jig… for another five day stretch of rest, repairs, and repacking then off to West Texas to our daughter’s hometown to celebrate  Easter with her, her husband, their two boys, and a bunch of his side of the family.  Not a bad little trip at all but we were starting to feel the miles each time we clicked those seatbelts on.

After a big four day rest it was off again! Destination: Kansas… in tornado season no less.  As the weather reports started warning of one of the biggest storm systems in current history R.W. and one of the boys loaded back up for what our son was convinced was going to be a “really exciting” trip to see a tornado.  Fortunately for me, as I was a nervous wreck waiting at home, the excitement didn’t turn out like he had hoped and the event which was to be held outdoors at a local riding arena was moved to a theater downtown that also doubled as a storm-shelter.  Unfortunately, for the good folks putting on the event, the attraction of holding the concert in a location that doubled as a storm shelter still wasn’t enough to convince a good portion of those who had planned on attending to leave their homes and brave the unknown forecasted weather.

With the excitement behind them the boys returned home with a little less jiggity jig for a whopping two day rest.  With over twenty states covered in less than 2 1/2 months it was time to complete the circle of the Central United States by heading west again, this time to Santa Clarita, California just north of Los Angles.

As we once again loaded suitcases, CDs, a plastic crate of our school books & lesson plans, R.W.’s guitar, hats, boots, a few toys, a box of office work I hoped to finish, and assorted drinks, snacks and cell phones I had to laugh at how we had managed to perfect our use of space. Even our five year old knew the drill by heart and loaded without complaint.  (Of course it didn’t hurt that there were a few days set aside for family fun at Disneyland ahead either!)

The next 13 days included travel days across New Mexico, Arizona and Southern California; a quick visit to one of our sons who is stationed at the Twenty-Nine Palms Marine Base; several days at the annual Santa Clarita Cowboy Music Festival, two days in the recording studio working on some new songs, a visit to Disneyland with four generations of our family present, an afternoon visiting the Grand Canyon, and the drive back across Arizona and New Mexico. 

Yes, by the time we got back late last Monday night our jiggity jig was completely gone.  But can you imagine missing all or any of that?  What an adventure! What a great experience for our boys!  What memories we have made!  What fantastic things they have learned and people they have met!

So, another week at home and although it was full of unpacking, repacking, shipping orders, homeschool, cleaning house, cleaning up the yard, and end of the school year activities we seem to have gotten our jiggity jig back so we head out again for Texas this afternoon.  Each time it’s been a little harder to load up and drive off, but we won’t ever have the chance to make those miles and memories again, so why not? 

Our travel times with our youngest boys won’t last forever so we cherish these trips plus it’s even more fun having you along for the ride. And, essentially we owe it all to you, because without you and your support we wouldn’t have the chance to share this wonderful country without children this way. Without you, R.W. would just be a great voice singing around the campfire in some remote cow-camp.  I can’t imagine our life without you, so I’m so glad you have not only joined us on our adventure – but you are the whole reason for it!

Thanks!  The Hamptons, Lisa, R.W., and of course, “the boys”

Well, you don’t. 

You see, there really is no way to do it all. Something has to give.  In my case, several somethings.

Yes, we did the travel.  Yes, we learned a ton.  Yes, we met interesting people and saw our nation’s landmarks.  Yes, we combined our business with fun.  Yes, we are behind in everything else.

Ahhh, there it is. I’ve admitted it.  I am not super mom. 

You see, week 33 in our school year just ended and my 5th grader is somewhere between week 27 and 32 on his lessons depending on the subject, and the kindergartener, well, he hasn’t fared as well – we are still slogging through week 26 with the hopes that we will finish it today and then cram a shortened version of weeks 27 and 28′s lessons into these next few days as we hit the road again.  Am I worried? No, not really.  He can read over 100 words, adds numbers like 63 plus 5, has almost finished his first handwriting book and is soaking up facts about history, science, and geography from his older brother and our travels so I think he will be just fine.

Oh, but my house?  The dining room resembles a holiday shop in the middle of a “Going Out of Business Sale”  more than a place to eat meals.  The decorations are stacked up on the table and the buffet from various holidays all the way back to Christmas.  It’s a jumble of Snowmen, Valentine’s Hearts, and Easter Rabbits all collecting dust and waiting for their turn to make the annual trip to the attic.

My yard is in various stages of chaos; dead, almost dead, terribly in need of pruning, in full bloom, desperately in need of water, and “Wow! Where did all those weeds come from?”.  And I have to wonder every time I go outside, “Do I start with the weeds, the water or the winter dead stuff?” 

Ranch work, well, let’s just say that it’s a really good thing R.W. does most of this or it would be in the same fix as my yard.  But I still have a few mares that need to be bred, a filly that needs handling and spring is quickly getting away from me.  The desire to go ride with the kids and R.W. is certainly there, but do I really have the time?

Business; well there are CDs to ship, bills to pay, invoices to create and send out, bookwork to balance, blogs to write, new projects to work on and papers to file… the list never ends, even without the travel.  Eventually it will all get done, unfortunately not as quickly as I would like.

So how will I ever get caught up?  I probably won’t.  I will work at what I can, I will stay up late and get up early, I will try to put my family first and my house last and somewhere in between I will attempt to get to all of the rest.  We may have to do some of our school lessons over the summer or even try a “year-around” system, especially if we decide to homeschool again next year.  I am probably going to have to look for help with the office work or with my yard, or I may have to just skip some of it altogether.

But, what I HOPE I won’t do is drive myself crazy with guilt about not being super-mom and worrying about what I haven’t finished, because in reality we have done a lot and the weeds will grow and the dust will gather whether I’m here or out on the road with my family.

So I am curious, how do you fight the “super-mom” guilt trip?  Do you have any secrets about how to “get it all done” without losing your mind?

Last night as a full moon rose and a dying sun fell behind the Sangre De Christo’s, Calvin Danner Hampton made his “Crossing Over”.

This “Crossing” was on a narrow footbridge spanning the tiny but fast Rayado River on the Philmont Scout Ranch.  Our Calvin, along with his fellow “Cubs” had received their Arrow of Light Awards earlier in the evening. 

When they stepped foot on this bridge made of telephone poles & 2×12’s they were Cub Scouts.  As they joined their peers, leaders & families waiting on the other side, these lads had made the “Cross-Over” and fulfilled the requirements and earned the honor to be called Boy Scouts!

Take two adults, they get married and they (sometimes) have children who then meet other children from other marriages and they get married and they have children, who get married and have more children….

Okay, sometimes it’s not so simple.  And sometimes we get things out of God’s order. But you understand the basic principle, right?

You see, these two people met and married and produced R.W., his younger brother and his little sister.

 And my parents met and married and produced me (Lisa) and my little brother.

Then back in 1998 (we will leave out the boring details…) R.W. and I married and we combined our two families.

So here’s where you don’t want to get lost… My two (parents) plus R.W.’s two (parents) now equal twenty-three….

That’s four (4) parents, five(5) kids, plus three(3) additional kid-spouses, plus eight(8) grandkids, and now three (3) great-grandkids…

Isn’t love great. 

Isn’t math fun when you learn to add like this? 

2011 was a big year for the Hamptons, we added 3 new members with another on the way.  This is the most current photo of our part of the equation. It was way too hard to get all the other parties togther for the full effect, but we sure do like this bunch and really loved having them all here in New Mexico for the Christmas holidays! 

So here’s to families and how they grow and expand.  We hope ours just keeps getting bigger and we consider ourselves so blessed to have so many of our members still with us.   

 How about your math?  I bet some of your two plus two’s equal a lot more than our twenty-three!  Let us know about your families & how you spend time together.

Can you believe spring is upon us? It’s been a unique year with unseasonably warm weather across the country, even here at 6,500′ elevation it’s starting to look like spring.  Of course the 8 to 10″ of snow we got last week sure didn’t hurt as it was a heavy wet snow, preceded by a nice rain shower and followed up by another a few days later.  Yes, even we have a little green grass growing, the trees have budded out and you can even find the occasional flower blooming.  All this springtime blooming has taken me down memory lane to this time last year. It was a Texas springtime, ranch-country wedding. There was magic in the air.

Springtime in Texas is like that anyway – what with the Bluebonnets, Indian Paintbrush, Prickly Pear blooms and all. Then add a ranch country wedding to that already potent mix and mister, you’ve got some strong medicine!

We had gathered in Palo Pinto County, TX for the wedding of a long tall cowboy (one Colter Hampton) to his Brazos River rose (Miss Cortni Clower). There, in a leafy glade surrounded by family and friends, in just a matter of a few moments, a miracle of love was witnessed and the world became a better place.

As I looked around me, a lump as big as Dallas grew in my throat. For not only had the boy found his True Love, but older brother Cooper was home safe from the war and in attendance, younger brother Denver was in from college, and littlest brothers Calvin and Ethan were behaving themselves. Big sister Gina, along with her husband Corby (my son-in-law), and their sons Barrett and Gus were able to make a rare getaway from their ranch to be here, too.

Long lost cousin Barbara, from way up in Maryland, made the long trip to reestablish her Texas Hampton roots.

My brother, Jeff, and his soon-to-be bride, LeAnn, were there holding hands like love-struck teens.

I knew that my long time best friend, Don, and his wife, Cindi (who’s like a sister to me), wanted to be there, but I wouldn’t have bet a plugged nickel that they would really make it, ’cause real life often gets in the way when your real life has to do with agriculture. But, by God, they made it, too!

So did Lisa’s brother, Ted, and his wife and both of their boys. All the way down from Central Oregon on their spring break.

And then there were all the Grand-folks! There were Hamptons, Moores, Lysters, Clowers and Rices, not to mention all the rest of Cortni’s side of the family – which was certainly abundant! The hall was full to over-flowing with cousins, aunts, uncles, neices, nephews, friends and even the occasional person that no one seemed to know.

All these smiling faces. All this history. All this love.

Even now, months later I find myself wondering if it may well be that not this side of heaven will we all be together again like this. No, surely not, but where else besides Texas in the springtime could it happen even once – like this?

After the “I dos” and all the pictures were taken, we all gathered in the reception hall to eat, drink and watch the newest Mr. and Mrs. Hampton cut their cake and drink Dr. Pepper toasts.

As the couple took to the dance floor, as the children played in the growing shadows, as the Texas sun made its way west, I stood alone trying to memorize every face and every scene of one of life’s few perfect days.

And amidst my memories of new love I find another. There I was, taking it all in, afraid to even blink, lest it all go away, my attention was finally stolen by a woman across the room. This lovely creature, although unaware I was watching, was working at the drink table filling cups with iced tea. I was taken not only by her obvious beauty, but by the look of total contentment she wore as she made an art out of this simple task.

Captivated and dumb-struck, I wondered how this could happen. What were the chances of a middle aged man falling in love at his son’s wedding? This kind of foolishness could get a man in big trouble. But no, not that day, because this angelic vision across the crowded room is the mother of my children, my sweetheart, my partner and my wife.

I smiled as I reached down and felt the gold band on my left hand.

Now why should old love born anew surprise me – or anyone, for that matter? After all, it was a Texas springtime ranch-country wedding, and there was magic in the air! 

Do you have a favorite springtime memory?  Is there really such a thing as “love in the air”?

Yes, Mr. Titanic himself reminded me during our homeschool studies that this week was the big 100 year anniversary. 

Now what, you might ask, is a five-year-old doing with that tid-bit of knowledge rolling around in his little brain? 

Well, let me tell you, he not only knows the date but also can spell the ship’s name, tell you whether it hit the iceberg on the bow or stern, tell you about how many people were on the ship and how many survived, how many dogs were on the ship, how many smoke stacks it had, what colors it was, why they didn’t have enough life boats, and a million other facts that would have slipped my mind long ago.

It all started a couple of years ago with his big brother’s fascination with the movie soundtrack and the creation of a “garage band” of several four to nine-year-old cousins who aptly named their band “The Titanic”.  The adults who were subjected to their performances couldn’t have been happier than when the act prophetically sunk.  But the fascination must have floated around in their minds because the Titanic was the first thing they wanted to visit on our trip back East.

Visit the Titanic, you might ask?  Well, yes, sort of. 

You see in February one of our first stops on our big trip to the Mid-Atlantic States was in Pigeon Forge for the city’s ”Saddle Up” event.  The folks there at the City of Pigeon Forge treated us with VIP passes to the gigantic Titanic Museum/Exhibit that really looks like the ship, complete with iceberg.  After spending an afternoon as four of her passengers (complete with their names and histories) we were submerged in little known facts, overwhelmed with actual artifacts retrieved from the ship’s underwater grave, and drowned by the sheer magnitude of the tragedy.  Ethan on the other hand became obsessed; the character he played not only survived but exploded in his mind, carrying him into a world of over-sized ships, Captains, Skippers, ice-bergs, and sunken treasure. 

After leaving Pigeon Forge, TN we traveled east to South Carolina, North Carolina and Virginia where we got to spend an afternoon on the beach at the Atlantic Ocean.  Wouldn’t you know it, as we were about to leave, none other than the USS Enterprise cruised by as she departed for her final voyage before retirement.  I was pretty excited to be able to say we were there, but for Ethan it was a true miracle.  For him, seeing that big aircraft carrier (the first and largest nuclear powered one of its kind) on its final voyage was just about as good as it gets and I think that cinched the deal.  From then on all we have heard about is the Titanic. 

I was naive enough to think his obsession might dwindle over the trip, but no, while we were in Williamsburg, VA for the Williamsburg Film Festival he purchased an old black & white 1940′s movie “The Titanic” that was made in Germany during the war and is all in German with sub-titles.  Do you know that although he can’t read, he has watched the movie no less than two dozen times?  His enthusiasm even rubbed off on his little 4 year old friend who, to his mother’s surprise, sat and watched the entire movie with him last night even when they were given the chance to watch Tin Tin instead!

So the final blow came with the April issues of National Geographic and National Geographic for Kids… both featured articles on the ship which have now been read, analyzed, and believe it or not, disputed by my boys.  With R.W.’s help they have even created a cardboard model of the ship – which they hope to one day float with full knowledge that being made of cardboard ensures that it will sink!

There really isn’t much point to this story except to say that I am really glad we are homeschooling this year so that these little minds can absorb such things as the fact that today was the 100th Anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic. 

It is exciting watching our boys learn and share with others things that they find interesting, even though it may be somewhat unique and obscure.  And, I am hoping that after today, Mr. Titanic will find something new that sparks his imagination and we can enthusiastically embark on another voyage into history that we might otherwise never take.

 Bon Voyage!