From time to time I get a little bored hearing my own self type.  It’s not that I don’t find my witty observations entertaining.  I do.  It’s that occasionally it’s nice to shake things up and do something different.

To that end, a couple of weeks ago on “the Socials” I asked: What do you want to talk about in this month’s column?  There was a wide range of topics and not surprisingly I had thoughts about most of them.  So…let’s pull some suggestions out of the mailbox and see where this goes.

Brent of Bakersfield, CA asks: “Could you please do a ‘how to’ on fixing deep fender dents with a full can of cheap beer?”  While on the surface this appears to be a simple DIY auto repair question, this actually is a reference to an episode from my teen years.  You see, Brent and I have been friends since Middle School.  (In fact, we were each other’s “Best Man” at our respective weddings.)

Brent and I came of driving age at approximately the same time.  And while we were “good kids,” our 16-year-old brains had not yet developed the necessary frontal lobes for “intelligent decision making”; an impairment made quite clear when a friend asked if we could help transfer and hide a case of beer for him.  Obviously, we agreed to help.

We loaded the beer in the back of my 1973 Grand Prix Pontiac, drove to an underdeveloped housing addition and hid the beer in a drainage pipe.  From there we proceeded with the rest of the weekend’s plans.

First on the agenda was going to “Egg’s” house.  His real name was Jonathan but his family called him Egg (based on the oblong shape of his head) so we did too. Egg was smarter than Brent and I combined times 10.  So when he suggested we go “van surfing” we of course agreed.  Egg’s family had a 27-foot van that could have doubled as a B52 bomber.  When “van surfing” we would remove the seats and let Egg drive around the neighborhood at high speeds while Brent and I tried to stand upright during tight corners.  (I told you Egg was the smart one. He was driving.)

None of us had “cool” cars back then.  Our friend, Pearson, had an 80’s model Honda Accord hatchback.  Multiple times a week, we would squeeze way too many people in the car - faces pressed against the rear glass and two people in the bucket seat up front - and drive to the downtown Pizza Hut where we’d put the personal-pan-pizza-in-five-minutes-or-it’s-free-guarantee to the test.  We looked like we were escaping a clown car when we pulled in.

Eventually, Brent and I did manage to wreck into each other.  It was in the midst of a TP-ing incident gone bad.  The police showed.  We were issued tickets and a time to appear in traffic court.  Our Fathers lost their minds.  Insurance rates are not kind to 16-year-old males with accidents.  My own girlfriend (and later wife) was called on to “testify”.  It didn’t go well.

The morning after the wreck my Dad called me out to the driveway.  He figured since my car was a 1973 tank and the dent was in the back quarter panel, we could smash it out from the inside.  When I got outside, my Dad explained his plan and then said, “I wondered if you wanted me to use this to pound the dent out?”  He was of course holding up a can of beer that had escaped our transport.  Things went downhill from there.

Coleta of Bartlesville asks: “Why does our state continue to have daylight savings time?”  I don’t know that I’m the person to ask about this, Coleta, but I can tell you I share your dismay.  At least 15 states in the Union have voted to make Daylight Savings permanent (as in no changing clocks twice a year).  Oklahoma had two such bills as recently as 2019.  Both Lankford and Inhofe have sponsored and or supported bills on a national level.  And yet… here we are.  All I can tell you is Daylight Savings Time is as close as I’ll get to being a single issue voter.

Pamela of Bartlesville writes: I've always wondered how you started PioneerDream, and writing, and things that you do professionally.  And I've always wondered where your daughter's name came from... Your report of her summer vacation is one of my favorite columns of the year.

Thank you, Pam.  PioneerDream is literally the result of a dream I had when we were in college at OU.  I was an advertising major.  My wife, Ann-Janette, was a broadcast major.  One night I had a dream about starting a company in which our name, Pioneer, would kind of act as a guiding principle in our work.  “The name describes the function.”  Since then we’ve been ridiculously fortunate to live in a community that allows us to do a host of crazy things…and get away with it.  For the last 25 years we’ve worked with the likes of the US Olympic Swim Team, Speedo, Fortune 100 companies around the country, dozens of amazing non-profits… we’ve made our own independent movies and concert events… and even put disco balls on a Pink buffalo.  You can’t do all that stuff in just any city.

As far as our one hit wonder, Evanjalyn, her name is a gift from her mother.  We never really wanted kids.  We were busy.  We traveled a lot for work.  And, frankly, I was enough kid on my own to satisfy any want.  However, one day Ann-Janette met a beautiful woman whose name was Evangeline and the name stuck with her.  Fast forward 18 years and we were close to the “last call” for kids.  We started to entertain the idea.  We still didn’t want kids, but we did want Evanjalyn.  So we “discussed” it and a few months later Amazon delivered our daughter.  In a lot of ways it felt like we cheated life.  We had nearly two decades of one life and then at the last minute, we took the exit and got on another road.  

In answer to your question, Pam, Evanjalyn Jayne’s name means: “one who brings good news”.  Thanks for asking.

And finally, Andra of the Ville asks: “After [your column] about vulnerability, I'd be interested in reading your take on the difference between that and oversharing, venting, trauma dumping, and whatever names it goes by,  because there's a line between the two and some of us have a little difficulty in finding it.”  I’m not sure I’m qualified to answer that, Andra, but it doesn’t mean I won’t.

One “helpful” line or distinction we can draw is “the other”.  How is what I’m saying or doing affecting the other person?  Are they a willing participant in this discussion or dump?  Am I just repeating the same issues without regard to healing or applying help or getting better?  If we’re only wallowing, after a while it feels like we’re just pulling someone else into our quicksand.  But if someone is offering support or relief there’s a significant chance you’re both being helped.  The process of “needing help” and “offering help” are incredibly important for both parties.  Not sure if that helps, it’s only one “sharer’s” opinion. (An actual counselor would be a much better resource.)

Wow.  We covered a lot of ground here.  I feel like I should pay you a sitting fee or something.  Either way it’s been fun. Thanks for being so responsive.  We’ll try again next month.

Cheers my friends.