Jesse Needs a Jet

I’ve been told the Lord works in mysterious ways.  Apparently, God also has peculiar conversations with some people.

Take televangelist Jesse Duplantis, for example.  Mr. Duplantis claims to have engaged in the following conversation:

The Lord: “Jesse, you wanna come up where I’m at?”

Duplantis: “What do you mean?”

The Lord: “I want you to believe in me for a Falcon 7-X.”

Duplantis: “OK.”

The first thing we need to define is “Falcon 7-X.”   A Falcon 7-X (specifically a Dassault Falcon 7-X) is a business jet with a 5,950 mile range.  This sleek baby will carry 12 to 16 passengers at 700 miles per hour without working up a sweat.  At present a 7-X will set you back a cool $54 million.

Mind you, Jesse Duplantis already has other private planes at his disposal.  He uses them to carry himself around the world from his base in Louisiana.  But he firmly believes—as he said—“If Jesus was physically on the Earth today, he wouldn’t be riding a donkey.” 

Jesse Duplantis is convinced he must fly fast and he must fly far in order to save souls.

There exists some evidence that televangelists, as a whole, see buying a seat on a commercial flight as entirely unseemly.  In a video appearance with both Duplantis and fellow televangelist Kenneth Copeland (another jet-buying hero), Copeland opined that because they are famous, they would have people coming up to them and asking for prayers if they took a commercial flight.

What could be worse than that?

And Copland added: “You can’t manage that today.  This dope-filled world, and get in a long tube with a bunch of demons.  And it’s deadly.”

Duplantis concurred, saying: “And it works on your heart.  It really does.”

What kind of an evangelist would want to actually be surrounded by all those messy souls they are they are trying to save?

--Mitchell Hegman

Sources: www.usatoday.com, www.bbc.com

A Place in the Mountains

After working on my cabin in the mountains, I often wander out to walk along the clear waters of the creek as it prances along.  Sometimes, I amble from wildflower to wildflower, stopping to examine each one.

I have in mind that someday a little boy or little girl will come along and understand what I feel.

I have never gotten over the mountains.

As a little boy, I was amazed by the bigness of life in them.

I love how light is sifted down to arnica flowers and grasses on the forest floor.  I enjoy watching chickadees ascending through the branches of tall pines.  I require deer crossing from shadows to light.  I need to hear the insistent sound of the creek finding its way through willows.  I need aspen trees to spin their leaves at first light.

The scent released when snow first kisses downfall is without parallel in this world.

Someday, I hope to leave this place to someone who loves it more than they want it.

A patch of arnica alongside my cabin.

--Mitchell Hegman

Future Huckleberries and Shootingstar Flowers

On the way to view wildflowers along the Rocky Mountain Front the other day, I crossed over the mountains twice.  On a brief stop at an elevation of about 6000 feet, I briefly scoured the forest understory to see how the huckleberry bushes were doing. 

I found swaths of huckleberry bushes in bloom.

Shootingstar flowers were also coloring the more open places.

--Mitchell Hegman

Branding at the 4-R Ranch

Yesterday was branding day at the 4-R Ranch.

Calves at the 4-R are given both a number and a name by the Russ family.  This year, many of the calves were given the names of Norse gods and goddesses.  Thor.  Freya.  That sort of thing.  All in honor of a damned cold winter, thank you.

I attended the branding event.

It was quite an operation.  Chase managed gathering and herding the calves.  Tom did the actual branding.  Anna administered shots.  Patti tracked the Norse Gods on a clipboard.  The rest of us operated gates, chutes, the branding table, or we simply watched.

I am no cowboy and no rancher, but I enjoy the 4-R branding event.  Good people gather there.  People who are not afraid of mud.  Horse people.  Young couples with toddlers in cool sunglasses.  Older kids climbing fences.  Lifelong friends.  Dogs.  Horses.  The occasional butterfly. 

The branding event has the added benefit of providing me with a reason to surround myself with the Elkhorn Mountains. The ranch is in the heart of the mountains.  Tom Russ and I (and many others from East Helena) spent a lot of summer days exploring the Elkhorns.  It’s fair to say I grew up in those mountains.  It’s no accident my bay window faces them.

Good people gathering in the best mountains.

--Mitchell Hegman

Miles of Wildflowers and Grizzly Prints

Question: What do wildflowers and grizzly bears have in common? 

Answer: They thrive along Montana’s Rocky Mountain Front.

The rolling hills, scarps, creek bottoms, and grasslands comprising the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains are home to an expanding population of grizzly bears.  This time of year, the downslopes and gentler inclines at at the feet of the mountains also flourish with wildflowers.

In places, great seas of yellow arrowleaf balsamroot wash up against the massive blocks of stone where the mountains abruptly rise up from the Great Plains.

Yesterday, my sister, my brother-in-law, and I drove some gravel and mud roads along the Front.  At times, the displays of flowers stretched for miles in all directions around us.

I am posting a few photographs of the balsamroot.  The photographs cannot convey the enormity of this springtime event.  The sweet scents.  The constant overlaying choir of the songbirds.  I have also posted photographs showing a herd of mule deer crossing through the flowers, the Dearborn River, and a photograph of a grizzly bear print we found at the edge of the road near the river.

--Mitchell Hegman

A Storm Approaches

Last evening, a dark rainstorm devoured the Elkhorn Mountains and dragged itself across the valley toward my house.  Strong winds shouldered against my windows and pushed aside the mayday tree at my front drive before the storm itself reached me.

When I opened my door to step outside to “feel” the storm approaching, a white flurry of snow-like petals from the Mayday tree blossoms swished inside my house and settled on the entry bench and carpeting.

I walked out and stood at the end of my drive to capture images of the approaching storm with my smarter-than-me-phone.

I love such storms.  They make me feel appropriately insignificant.  I like the earthy scents they carry.  I appreciate the insistence of wind against my arms and face.  I like listening to wind sifting through the nearby pines.    

I captured a few images of the storm while blue skies remained overtop me and then scampered back inside and waited for rain.

--Mitchell Hegman

Three Things

—Live each day as if you have stepped into a red ant pile.

—A true friend is someone who discourages you from getting a second cat.

—If the choice is between dancing or murder, choose dancing.

--Mitchell Hegman

A Colorful Short Story

Rita vehemently argued one night that rain had no color.  “Water has no color,” she added.

Samuel wanted to answer with “blue” first.   Then “green.”  But Rita’s dark eyes had gone glossy with conviction.  The last time her eyes did that and he pushed back, she stopped speaking to Samuel for three days.

Samuel simply nodded when she ended the episode by stating authoritatively: “It’s a process, rain.  You can’t give color to a process.”

Blue streak, he thought.

Green with envy.

With a little luck, the rain would turn into white snow.

--Mitchell Hegman

Hidden in Plain Sight

Deer give birth to fawns anywhere between April and July.  The majority of fawns are born in June.

Newborn fawns tend to be a bit wobbly and uncertain of themselves.   Until the fawns are strong enough to make daily rounds, their mothers will find a place to hide their fawns while they go off to forage for something to eat.  A doe may leave her fawn alone for the entire day.  Part of this is a strategy to avoid bringing attention to the fawn.

It is not uncommon for the doe to wait until dusk before returning to fetch her little one.

Sometimes, a fawn will be hiding in plain sight.

Such was the case a couple days ago at the house in Akron, Ohio, where that girl’s daughter lives.  A doe plunked her newborn down at the center of a flower bed immediately below one of the dining room windows.

That girl sent me a few photographs she captured with her smartphone.

The fawn remained in the flower bed for the entire day.  Happily, the fawn was retrieved near full darkness that evening.

--Mitchell Hegman

A Rubber Chicken Covers “Havana”

Normally, I don’t go for rubber chickens.  Not that I find them offensive.  Far from it.  I just find the humor a bit thread-worn at this stage.

I stand corrected.

The following video is hilarious, if you know the song.

For those of you who may not know the original version, I have also posted the original below.

This rubber chicken can sing!

--Mitchell Hegman

Chicken Video Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nqc8lK92K7E

Original Video Link:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HCjNJDNzw8Y

Hiking Mount Helena

Yesterday morning, my sister, Debbie, and I hiked a trail at the base of Mount Helena.  The temperature was ideal for hiking and the skies were clear of rain following several days of storms.  Better yet, all manner of wildflowers were on full display.

I captured images with my smarter-than-me-phone as we hiked along.  The photographs are of varying quality; but they tell the story.

Cathedral of St. Helena.

Arrowleaf balsamroot.

Prairie smoke.

Tufted phlox.

Pasqueflower.

Larkspur.

Shootingstar.

Mountain forget-me-not.

--Mitchell Hegman

Open for Business

Glacier lilies are among the first spring wildflowers to open for business in the subalpine meadows and along the forest understories within the Rocky Mountains.  Don’t let their dainty appearance fool you.  These are tough operators.

Glacier lilies often appear in the first patches of open ground—even as huge snowdrifts still surround them.  And they can survive a few late snowfalls.  Glacier lilies produce enough heat they may even melt a little hole in the snow around themselves.

This has been an exceptional spring for the lilies.  The heavy snows of last winter and the spring rains have brought forth massive numbers of the flowers in the mountains of Montana.

Yesterday, while on a drive that took me twice over the Continental Drive, I stopped to admire a few patches. 

Posted below are a few images I captured.

--Mitchell Hegman

The First Full Minute of My Day

Just me and 20 pounds of housecat on the sofa.  One of us is trying to surf beyond the wall to wall news coverage of the royal wedding on television.

One of us is contorting into a less than handsome position in an attempt to lick some unmentionables.

Neither of us are having an entirely successful start to the day over here.

I should have guessed I would have a rough day based on my first full minute out of bed this morning. 

Yes, that one.  The one where I wandered around in the dark with my glasses in my hand—all the time wondering where my glasses were.

--Mitchell Hegman

Dee and the Gold Star

Eleven years ago, I made a glittery gold star and attached it to a stand.  I was teaching full-time at the Montana Joint Apprenticeship Training facility then.  The star was a half-gag, half-honest roving award I presented to apprentice electricians.  I might place the star on the table in front of an apprentice who aced a test, presented a brilliant insight, or simply got embarrassed when I gave it to them.

Though I left the apprenticeship training program six years ago, the gold star yet survives.

Yesterday, while on a visit to the facility, I found Dee working at her desk a full five minutes before her scheduled starting time.  Dee is the bookkeeper/administrative assistant/keeps-everything-in-liner at the training facility.

“Good for you!” I enthused after finding Dee at her desk.  “You should be rewarded.”

“Maybe a raise,” she suggested.

“I’ve got something for you.”

I trotted off and soon returned with the gold star.  I placed the star on her desk.

Before I left the training facility yesterday, Dee (ever a good sport) allowed me to take a photograph of her holding the gold star.

Job well done, Dee!

--Mitchell Hegman

A Conversation

I recall a conversation I had about politics some time ago.  The conversation was not yet heated, but seemed headed in that direction.  Finally, after I had made some silly point or another, the person with whom I was speaking announced: “Everything you say contradicts something else you said.”

I had to laugh.

“Well,” I responded, “I guess I should be happy.  This at least proves that you have been listening to me.” 

--Mitchell Hegman

Obligatory Morning Report

Morning Report:

Two walking bluebirds are crossing my drive.  I hear red winged blackbirds trilling sharply at the cattail ponds over a mile away.  And I just slapped to death my first mosquito of the year.

End of Report.

 --Mitchell Hegman

Lines from a Dream

I woke late last night with a series of lines assembled in my head.  I am not exactly certain where they came from.  I flipped on my bedside lamp, wrote down the lines, and went back to sleep.  Following are the lines that came from my dream:

Paint your walls canary yellow.

Take a fast train.

Walk slowly though wildflowers.

Trust birdsongs.

Run deep.

--Mitchell Hegman

Suffering a Bad Digitizer

There isn’t much more devastating than hearing you have a bad digitizer.

Actually, there is something worse: learning what a digitizer is and then finding out yours has entered a kind of rapid death spiral.

Okay, you may have a couple of questions here.  I certainly did yesterday when I took my smarter-than-me-phone to Costco to see why my touch screen kept going black and I lost all touch functions.

What is a digitizer?

Believe it or not, a digitizer is the layer of glass above the LCD screen in your smartphone.  When you touch the digitizer glass, you interact with an electrical field present in the digitizer.  The digitizer transmits and receives signals based on where you touch the screen.  These signals are then interpreted as the commands and functions you are so familiar with.  The LCD screen and the digitizer operate independently from one another.

My screen started going black on Saturday.  It would fall black at random times. By yesterday morning, the screen would fall black and unresponsive as soon as I placed a call.  I could not even punch in my passcode to retrieve voicemails.

Several things occurred to me as I faced my black screen.  First I have no other phone.  I dumped my landIine a couple years ago.  Secondly, I no longer have any phone numbers memorized.  I could not call anyone even if someone handed me a working phone.  And what of my photographs, emails, and cat-jump fail videos?

I took my phone to the phone kiosk at Costco as soon as they opened yesterday. 

“Failing digitizer,” the wizard at the kiosk said grimly.

“That sounds bad.”

“Yep.  Bad.”

“I think I want a new phone.”

“Yep.  Good.”

After several screen crashes and working around my failure to recall my four digit Verizon passcode, the wizard transferred all of my vitals from my old phone to the new.  In less that than an hour, I was walked away with a new phone.

My new digitizer is beautiful.

--Mitchell Hegman

Lions with Smiling Faces

When Cindy was five, she finger painted a pride of pink lions with Tempera paint.  There were six lions in the pride.  She knew then that the lions were hunters.  She knew they were ambush killers.  But she painted them pink.

And she gave them smiling faces.

She rediscovered the painting while packing up after her divorce.  She painted another pink lion on the paper and gave it a smiling face.

She pinned the painting to her bedroom wall.

Every morning, after pulling on her clothes, she touched the seventh lion and set off for the day.

--Mitchell Hegman

Kiss the Sky

Today I am sharing a song from a band called Shawn Lee’s Ping Pong Orchestra.  Don’t let the name of the band turn you away…

--Mitchell Hegman

Video Link:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MpLLSntOBuc 

Remembering Uyen

Seven years ago, during the blackest hours of this date, Uyen Hegman lost her way in this life and began charting her way through the next.

If you were to ask me (and probably half of the people she touched in her life) what one thing defined Uyen, the answer would be her smile.

Posted today are a few photographs of that smile.

Love always.

Selfie with my SLR camera, Hogum Creek, Montana, 2004

Uyen, me, Helen in Los Angeles, California, 1997

Bill Susag, Helen, Uyen at Halong Bay, Vietnam, 2009

Uyen and her cousin, Sapa, Vietnam, 2009

Uyen in a huckleberry patch, Helena National Forest, Montana, 2005

--Mitchell Hegman