We Bought a Bull

Hello! It has been awhile since I have tickled the keys of a keyboard. I have been busy with my new handful job, I mean full-time job of staying home with our son. Owen is the sweetest thing that I have ever laid my eyes on, but he is also ornery as all get out. I will write all about Owen and motherhood another time, but today’s post focuses on an exciting purchase David and I made.

Here is some background: four years ago I attended the Bull Riders of America Finals in Ottumwa, Iowa. As fate would have it, my friend Sally and I went to the same restaurant as the bull riders after the event. We were able to meet some of the riders and they offered to give us a backstage look at the following night’s event.

As I was getting a tour of the bucking chutes that following evening, there was a guy petting the bulls. I figured this fellow was a ranch hand of sorts, he introduced himself as Jimmy Twedt and answered countless questions I had about the bulls. Later that evening, when the event began, they announced one of the top riders—Jimmy Twedt. This was what made me know that Jimmy was a great guy, here he was—one of the best at his sport—but he was so humble that I had no idea he even rode bulls when I met him. Jimmy and I have remained in contact ever since. 

Fast forward four years to this spring. Jimmy asked me when I was due, I told him March 13. He told me that he had a heifer that should be calving around that time, as well. He asked if the calf and my baby were born around the same time and were the same gender, if it would be alright if he named the calf after the baby. I, of course, loved that idea.

On March 10, I received a text from Jimmy letting me know that his heifer had just given birth to a bull calf. I replied, “Well hopefully I’ll be calving soon, too!” less than 24 hours later, I had a “bull calf” of my own. I sent Jimmy a message telling him that I had a boy and named him Owen, which means “Young Warrior.” Jimmy, in turn, named his bull 801 Young Warrior.

Now, Jimmy retired from bull riding a few years ago but he hasn’t left the business completely behind. He has begun to raise and buck bulls. There are bull bucking competitions where bulls have a dummy fastened to them (instead of a human) and they are “bucked” like you would see at a bull riding contest. The bulls are then scored by judges and the winners are awarded cash and other prizes.

I was telling David about this and he suggested that we partner with Jimmy in that venture. Now, David and I love expanding our horizons so we asked Jimmy what he would think about us joining the JT Buckers family in some capacity. Thankfully, Jimmy enjoys sharing his hobbies and knowledge with us city slickers, so he invited us to watch him buck bulls in the practice arena.

David, Owen and I drove to Leon, Iowa to watch the bucking take place and immediately fell in love with that side of the sport. We took Jimmy and his dad out to dinner that evening and spoke about bulls. Jimmy let us know that Young Warrior is developing quite well. He comes from fine genetics and seems to be just as ornery as our Young Warrior (which is really stinkin ornery)! We asked Jimmy if we could purchase Young Warrior and he kindly agreed to let us purchase a half-stake (not steak!) in him.

David and I decided that not only would this be an investment and fun new venture, but it would also be David’s special gift to Owen. When Young Warrior sells (after hopefully winning PBR Bull of the Year—because hey, I dream big!) we will place the proceeds in Owen’s college fund. And I mean, it is pretty cool to have your dad buy you a bull!

A week after we bought our half-interest in 801 Young Warrior, I was reading nursery rhymes to Owen and stumbled across this one—I guess we aren’t too crazy for thinking a bull is an appropriate gift for a baby after all!

Three Perspectives, One View

A friend sent me a text message on Thursday stating, “I wanted to reach out to you and give you a long distance hug. I know you have beloved brothers and sisters on both sides of the madness going on right now. The most heartbreaking thing is that “sides” even exist in the first place.”

This made me cognitively think about what a unique perspective I have and how my heart hurts in so many ways right now.

For those of you who may not know me, I have been a career journalist—both on TV and newspaper. Some of my dear friends are black and in college I was one of the few white models during my university’s Black History Month fashion show. I am also married to a police officer. Media. Black. Police. These are three perspectives on one issue, and I believe that my past experiences shape me to have a pretty well-rounded opinion on the situation plaguing us today.

When a black person is shot by police, uproar occurs. There have been “bad shoots,” meaning some police officers have been unjustified in shooting or killing the citizens they are supposed to protect— this includes black men. Because of the bad shoots, nearly every shooting involving a black man and a white police officer are immediately judged and sides are taken. Black people in America join together in grief and want to make a stand to create a dialogue and hopefully make a difference.

In the same way police families join together in grief, knowing that not all of the shootings are unjustified and knowing they fear what an individual might do to them to avoid arrest or lash out against the badge.

The media has quickly learned that officer involved shootings that feature a white officer vs. a black individual equals high ratings. The news is on a revolving cycle and the hours of broadcast time causes some journalists to feel a pressure to fill the cycle with speculation and interviews that are passionate and sometimes ill-informed. This approach results in a dialogue, but the truth is that the information is not always accurate and can cause more harm than good.

When a white officer shoots a black man, my Facebook newsfeed is filled with opinions and emotions on opposite sides of the spectrum. My black friends are hurting; they are scared; they are enraged; they can identify with the victim. My cop friends are hurting; they are scared; they are enraged; they can identify with the shooter.

When the shoot is obviously unjustified, my husband and I are angered, appalled, and dismayed. When an officer believes that he can do what he wants because he has a badge and a gun, it not only tarnishes the badge that David wears—it makes his job more dangerous, harder and less appreciated. Police officers refer to themselves as “The Thin Blue Line.” Law enforcement families share a bond because it is us who truly understand the stress, pressure, danger and sacrifice that is a package-deal when you are a cop or the family member of one. Although we are a “family,” this does not mean that we justify or defend cops who treat others unjustly. John Stewart expressed it well by stating, “You can truly grieve for every officer who’s been lost in the line of duty in this country, and still be troubled by cases of police overreach. Those two ideas are not mutually exclusive. You can have great regard for law enforcement and still want them to be held to high standards.” 

One of my best friends, for nearly twelve years, is a black man named Deon who is from Los Angeles, California. He attended high school at Centennial High School in Compton, California. Despite how rough Compton can be perceived, he avoided gang involvement, trouble with the law and earned a Master’s in Business Administration. But when a person sees him, they see a muscular black man who stands 6’4” tall. When any person of any race sees him, they don’t know if he is nice, mean, shy, outgoing, violent or peaceful. If an officer interacted with him, I would hope that the officer would treat him fairly and with respect. If Deon was treated harshly, with violence or with disrespect, my heart would break and I would be embarrassed that the officer wears the same badge as my husband. If my friend was ever a victim of an officer-involved shooting, my heart would not only break but I would be enraged, hurt, and scared. Therefore, I can identify with the protesters and with those expressing hurt and disgust in relation to the officers who have disgraced the badge.

Deon and I, Easter 2007

Right before our MBA graduation, 2013. 

Steph and I in LA visiting Deon, 2014. 

I sincerely pray that my friends of any race will not stereotype all police officers based off of the actions of the officers who do not perform their job to the standards they swore to uphold. In the same way, I pray that police officers will not stereotype people by their race and treat them differently, based off of the actions of people who share the same color of skin and made bad life choices.

My husband decided to become a police officer because he wanted to show people that nice guys are police officers, too—this means that he recognizes that some officers abuse the badge. When my husband leaves for work, we always hug, kiss, tell each other “I love you” and say a meaningful goodbye. We have this habit because we never know whether he will return home, safe. I know my husband is forced to make split-second decisions while he is on duty which can change his life and the lives of others in this community. I hope that he never has to pull the trigger, but I also hope that he will if that is what he needs to do to get home safely to me.

As a former TV and newspaper journalist, I know that viewership numbers matter and that when you report stories regarding certain subjects, you are practically guaranteed a large audience. I also know that misreporting or sharing opinions or hunches instead of facts is dangerous, both ethically and to the readers. Misinformation in any way can lead to negative results.

I believe that the media circus surrounding the coverage of white officer vs. black man shootings makes the problem worse. Black people feel more on edge; feel like they might be next. Police officers feel, see and hear that hostility and become more on edge, wondering if a black person will be quicker to defend themselves with violence. I believe that this contributes to the officer-involved shootings. When both parties are scared, on edge and feel like they are a target, things escalate quickly which is both scary and dangerous.

My heart hurts in many ways and my stress level increases dramatically when officer-involved shootings occur.

Recently, Ottumwa had an officer-involved shooting that did not make much of a splash in the media despite how interesting of a story it was. A white male, with an AK-47 allegedly began a house fire while he was inside a home with four other individuals. Police were called, created a perimeter and kept the fire department and ambulance service away from the scene while it was still dangerous. Eventually the gunman emerged from the house, armed with the AK-47. Video footage of the incident shows that the gunman pointed the rifle at officers and that is when two officers shot at the man to save their lives and the lives of the other officers on scene. Immediately after the gunman was shot, officers ran to him to drag his body away from the dangerously close proximity to the burning home. My husband immediately began lifesaving measures on the man who had just pointed an AK-47 at him. The gunman lived. However, the gunman was white so the “big” news agencies did not pick up the story.

The moment I was notified of Ottumwa’s officer-involved shooting, I feared for the safety of my husband. First, I worried about his physical safety. After that was assured, I worried about his emotional and mental wellbeing. Although the shooting was justified, handled properly and had an ending where everyone lived—it still rocked my world as a police wife. Being a police wife can be a hard role. I want to know that my husband is safe, that he is appreciated for the danger he puts himself in every day and that the sacrifices our family makes for him to be a police officer is worth it.

After waking up to the news of the sniper attacks on Dallas police officers, I am reminded of the words of Martin Luther King, Jr., “Violence never brings permanent peace. It solves no social problem: it merely creates new and more complicated ones. Violence is impractical because it is a descending spiral ending in destruction for all. It is immoral because it seeks to humiliate the opponent rather than win his understanding: it seeks to annihilate rather than convert. Violence is immoral because it thrives on hatred rather than love. It destroys community and makes brotherhood impossible. It leaves society in monologue rather than dialogue. Violence ends up defeating itself. It creates bitterness in the survivors and brutality in the destroyers.”

To my black friends: your lives matter. I’m sorry that some cops are poorly trained, racist, and violent. If there has been a police officer that has hurt you, your family, friends or someone you relate to—please know that my heart goes out to you.

To my cop friends: your lives matter. I’m sorry that some irresponsible reporters and pot-stirrers make your hard and dangerous job even harder and more dangerous. I am sorry that there are bad cops out there that tarnish your badge and cause your career choice to appear less noble and heroic. I pray for your safety and for your family as they wait and hope for you to come through the door every night.

To my journalist friends: your jobs matter. Reporters are the writers of history. You have an important responsibility in society and what you report impacts your audience and the people they interact with. I am sorry that responsible reporters get lumped in with the negative stereotype of “the media.” Please stay safe, truthful and ethical in your reporting despite the pressures to cater to propaganda.

To those of you who have read this post, I hope this gives you a new perspective and insight. I hope that good people will unite, despite their skin color or career choice. I hope that we can have a dialogue and not a monologue. I hope for peace, understanding and safety. I pray that the division will end and instead we will unite to fight for what is right and just—no matter who is in the wrong. Please know that not every black person is a thug and not every police officer is a jerk. Let’s stop stereotypes and instead find commonalities and appreciation for one another.

“Hate. It has caused a lot of problems in this world, but it has not solved one yet.” Maya Angelou.

Defensive Tactics

One of Ottumwa's police officers teaches a law enforcement class at our local community college. One night a year, the class focuses on defensive tactics. David was asked to be a guest instructor for the course and I asked if I could come along (I wanted to see him in action, both in the teaching role and seeing him spar with the students). I was able to record David sparring with a female student. The students were instructed to block David’s right hook and then punch him. David was instructed to continuously punch the student during the scenario (because most fights don't end with just one punch).

I took the opportunity to test my fighting skills against David and his fellow officer Caleb. It was fun, but I’m bruised (let’s just say the “pads” they wore were not very soft lol)

After each of the students had a chance to “take on” both officers, the second portion of the class focused on scenario training. Thankfully I’m not shy, because I was pulled out of the audience and used as an actress in the scenarios. In total, David, Caleb and I acted out about 25 scenarios and two students at a time would be cops that were called to the scene. The student “cops” did not know what they were walking into, beyond the brief description “dispatch” gave to them. David, Caleb and I would cooperate if the officers did well in commanding the situation. However, if the officers did not take control of the situation or acted too aggressive, we would not be compliant.

The scenarios we acted out ranged from noise complaints; to domestic assaults; to a wanted murderer; and public intoxication. I had a great time playing up my characters and David impressed my socks off during the “recaps.” After each scenario, he would ask the student “cops” what they did correctly and incorrectly. After they answered, David would teach the class the proper procedure/strategy behind handling the “call” in a safer, more effective manner.

David was remarkable in his talent for explaining how to handle the “call” in the proper way and why. He also held the students’ attention and really had command over the room. I was so proud!

Caleb, David and I had a great time helping with the class-- Even though we all let bruised and sore haha. 

A Case of the Mondays

A couple of Mondays ago I had a “true Monday,” meaning that nothing went smoothly all day. I forgot my laptop in my car, which I realized after I got into my office, it started raining outside when I returned to the parking lot to get my laptop, my computer glitched, I spilled coffee, the list goes on and on. When I came home for the evening, I was exhausted and really ready for my Monday to be over. I walked in the house (apparently with a very worn out expression on my face) and then I saw my husband standing in the dining room. We had bought flowers, set the table, lit candles and grilled us a world-class dinner.

David said that the best part of my reaction was watching my worn-out expression quickly shift to one of joy. It meant so much to me that he had been thoughtful and sweet—but it was also awesome that I didn’t have to cook! With the day I had, I probably would have mistaken salt for sugar! :) 

Replacing our Marriage Vows

When I was growing up, one of my favorite things to play was Barbies. My favorite aspect of playing Barbies was, of course, weddings! I only had one Ken and one MC Hammer doll that was Ken-sized (MC Hammer had on gold parachute pants and a gold vest and had his own boom box!). Due to my limited supply of men, Barbie and Ken got divorced a lot, so I could put on another wedding with a different Barbie. For the divorce, I would do reversed wedding vows, “Do you Ken stop taking Barbie to be your awfully wedded wife?” And yes, I thought the words to wedding vows were awfully and not lawfully (haha!).

Fast forward to my adult life. When David and I were planning the wedding, I asked him if it would be okay to say non-traditional wedding vows. With all of the Barbie weddings I officiated, I thought that the “traditional vows” wouldn’t hold as much significance to me. Together, David and I found vows we loved. One of my dear friends (and talented artist) Rachel Cobler painted our vows for us (photo below).

We hung the painted vows above our stairs that lead from the main floor to our basement. When we hung them, we knew it was a temporary spot because David had a special plan for that location. Before we met, David went on a hunting trip in Ohio with several of his buddies. On the trip, David shot a ram that he had taxidermied. The taxidermy process took much longer than expected, so he just got it back this spring.

Now our wedding vows are in our bedroom and our spot above the stairs feature our new friend, Walter.

Top Gun, Ottumwa Style

As many of you know, my second favorite movie is “Top Gun.” I usually show my admiration for the film through quoting it (as often as possible) and utilizing Goose and Maverick's high-five throughout my everyday life. 

Wednesday began as a regular day. David and I were looking forward to dog sitting our friends’ 10-week-old puppies. Then I got an offer I could not refuse—one of my credit union members owns a plane and offered to take David and I on an airplane ride!

I am always up for adventure and random opportunities, so I immediately accepted the offer to fly. After work, I drove home, changed and David and I headed to the Ottumwa airport. Ed, the pilot, picked us up on the runway and away we went. David sat in the front and I sat in the back (this is what happens when your husband has long legs).

We were flying over Ottumwa, finding our house; our offices; and some landmarks and then I heard Ed giving David instructions on how to fly the plane. The instructions were not just an FYI—instead, Ed was instructing David on how to immediately take control of the plane and begin flying it! AHHHHHH!!! Haha.

After David served as our pilot for about ten minutes, Ed landed the plane so I could switch David spots and get the opportunity to be a little pilot, too.

When we landed, David and I were starving—so the airport was kind enough to feed us free popcorn, hot dogs and soda. I kept saying, "This is the best day ever!" I mean, what could be better than flying in a plane, getting to pilot a plane AND free food?!?!

After David and I demolished the food, we were back in the air. I will be honest—when I took the controls I was ridiculously nervous. To try to keep a small plane steady, nose not too high or too low, and keep the wings from tipping was so hard. I was fully concentrating on trying to keep it straight and Ed was insisting that I also look at the gauges—which felt WAY more dangerous than texting and driving. After about five minutes of me being terrified of piloting the plane, I started to really enjoy it!

Apparently I was doing well, because Ed started texting haha. 

Once I began to enjoy the experience, the Top Gun lines started flowing haha. I flew for about twenty minutes and it was so much fun. I think getting our pilots licenses may be a new goal for David and I to obtain when we are retired and have time to travel a lot.

When Ed landed the plane, we took some pictures together on the runway. It was a truly fun day that was so memorable. I love experiencing once-in-a-lifetime opportunities like that with my love.

Weekend Getaway

David and I have been together for a year-and-a-half. In that time, we have never spent a weekend together—unless there was a special event that David took time off to attend. This may seem like a weird statistic, but it is pretty common for a law enforcement family.

Last week, David decided that he was going to take the weekend off so we could enjoy a little getaway as a couple. David is currently training one of Ottumwa’s newest officers (who happens to be a friend of mine). The new officer is also in the National Guard and had drill last weekend, which is what enabled David to take the weekend off.

When thinking of destinations, David and I were trying to think of a fun place in close range—so we weren’t driving all weekend. David chose KC, and of course I backed that decision (for those of you who don’t know, I love KC and lived there for awhile. I haven’t been back in 1.5 years, so it was great to visit the city I love). David has only been to KC once, and that was to visit the water park, so I Googled several options so we could experience KC like we were tourists.

We arrived on Friday night and stayed with our friends Allie and Taylor (and their puppy Bayla!!!). We stayed up chatting and then hit the hay so we could get up and go on Saturday morning.

Allie and Bayla on the couch 

On Saturday, we woke up and headed to one of KC’s top breakfast spots—Eggtc. David and I LOVE coffee, so we both ordered their special—a salted caramel mocha and it was amazing! David got an omelet and I had the Eggs Benedict Florentine—both were so yummy!

After breakfast, it was off to the Nelson-Atkins Museum. It was far above our expectations and we had a great time touring it. The museum hosted art ranging from contemporary to structural to Asian to European and even an Egyptian exhibit complete with a mummy!!!!! The mummy really blew my mind; I couldn’t believe it was real.

One of the coolest moments was when David and I were walking down a hallway and noticed a painting of scenery we readily recognized—Richard the Lion Heart’s castle which we visited when we were in France last summer.

 The Painting.....

Photo from our trip to France.

On down that hallway, about twenty feet to the left, we recognized another painting-- this one was by Claude Monet and the subject was the Jardin at Giverny where David and I took our engagement photos. Although I've been to Monet's house and garden, I've never seen an authentic Monet painting so that was really neat to me.

The next stop on our KC spree was the Plaza. If you have never been, it is really neat. It is a grouping of several blocks of shops and restaurants all in beautiful white buildings that are fashioned to look like Seville, Spain. Some of the shops are affordable (H&M )and some are not (Gucci). David and I walked around the Plaza and even went shopping (only one store, I didn’t torture him too much). This is the photo I took in the store to depict how we feel about shopping haha.

Afterwards, we ate at PF Chang’s (David’s first time).

Our next adventure was at the World War I Museum. David is a history buff and really likes studying the wars and I—well, I have a lot to learn on the subject haha (just ask my college history professor who told my dad that my older sister Jennifer was the smart one and I was the social one lol).

The museum was amazing. They definitely spared no expense.  As you walked into the exhibit area of the museum, you walk on a glass floor that is high above a field of poppies.  The museum also featured interesting videos about the war and what led up to the war, artifacts, uniforms, tanks, missiles, ammunition, guns, a plane and life-size depictions of the trenches, bomb craters and even a field hospital room.

The stories and pictures displayed with the artifacts were so interesting and really helped make the war seem real. This museum was David’s favorite activity.

After the museum tour, David and I went to the World War I Monument above the museum. It was there that I saw the tail-end of an engagement. My favorite photo of David and my engagement was taken by a stranger who saw the proposal and text the photo to us. Therefore, I started taking photos of this couple. The new Fiancé saw me and said, “Oh, someone is trying to take picture of the monument, let’s get out of the way.” It was then I told her that I was actually taking photos of them. I offered to use their phone and hold his coat/her sunglasses while they posed and recreated the moment. It was fun and they quickly realized that I’m “snap happy” and said, “Wow! She is like a wedding photographer!” haha.

David and I then drove back to the Plaza, where he'd made reservations at a steakhouse called Houston’s. He was a sneaky guy and asked my friend Stephy for a restaurant recommendation and made the reservation on Wednesday. It was a good thing he did that because it was prom AND Saturday night on the Plaza :)

Side note: When I was changing into my nice dinner clothes, I broke the zipper on my pants—so we went back to H&M to buy new pants! I would say that was a perfect plan, except the pants that broke are my faves! Ug.

David got the rib eye and I got a steak salad (there really was steak in there, folks! Haha)

When we left the restaurant, we drove around the neighborhoods near the plaza. Oh my, there were some gargantuan and beautiful homes. Each was an architectural work of art. David and I decided that we would not argue if we were forced to live in any of them lol.

The “home tour” ended when we headed to the Power & Light District in downtown KC. This is such a neat spot. We visited a little joint called the “Flying Saucer.” I ordered the Molten Lava Cake there—but I was not impressed. The taste was great, the texture was very odd.

After cake, it was time to show David P&L. He thought it was really cool—but we are so used to going to bed early (so we can wake up at 5 a.m. for our jobs) that we did not stay more than 15 minutes haha. Before we left, a fun girl named Justine (who had the same phone case as me) took our picture.  :)

On Sunday, our original plan was to wake up and go to church with Allie and Taylor (their church is awesome and their pastor used to be on the KC SWAT team). However, we decided to catch a Royals game, which conflicted with church. So instead, we headed to another highly-rated breakfast spot called “You Say Tomato.” On our way there, we stopped at Starbucks for our favorite drink (white chocolate, raspberry mocha). Just across the way was a Lowe’s so we took a picture with our family store ;).

At You Say Tomato, David ordered the breakfast casserole and I had the breakfast flatbread (gravy, eggs, potatoes and cheese on a flatbread). Both were super yummy! We, of course, had coffee there as well.

Then it was time for another “home tour” haha. The houses were so amazing and we got so entranced by looking at them that we ran out of time to get to the Royals game much in advance. Luckily, we went the back way and we were able to get parked at the stadium, with no wait, which was awesome.

The game was so fun. It was David’s first Royals game and our first baseball game together. The weather was perfect—72 degrees. Our seats were pretty good, second level at first base. The game had an exciting end—extra innings and a stolen base for the win!

After the game, David and I high-tailed it out of the stadium and back to our car. We somehow did not catch traffic leaving the stadium either. Before leaving KC, I introduced David to Church’s chicken. That kind of counts as going to church, right?

The weekend was an amazing one of fun, adventure and bonding—just what we needed.