I am sure that somewhere, probably in the midwest, this weekend, a goat was born during this cold spell and that goat will be a special buck prospect that will be named….wait….wait……wait for it…….Polar Vortex.  I can tell you this much, that goat was NOT born at our piece of paradise.  There is one doe that has week old triplet doe kids in the kidding barn.  Duke’s wethers are taking up occupancy on the other side of the aisle.  Out of the wind, out of the cold.  They don’t even realize that there is such a thing as a polar vortex.  

Saturday around noon found me sitting inside, rebuilding premier heat lamps.  I even pulled a few broken ones off of the carcass pile and built one complete one from scavenged parts.  I just rebuilt the older ones–the orange ones.  Those new & improved black premier heat lamps are bastards to rebuild.  

When it gets cold, the corgi dogs get to live on the back porch.  And when a polar vortex hits, Sasha gets to come in the house.  I don’t give dogs a bath very often.  But it was time.  I did not want a dirty dog in the house.  So, I mixed up a Moscow Hee Haw (no vodka), ran a warm bath, put the dog in the tub and sang along to some AC/DC.  Yes, AC/DC is the appropriate band to play while washing the dog.  You know, “Givin’ The Dog A Bath”.  For those of you that got that, we salute you.  And for those of you that don’t, I feel sorry for you.

It is amazing how a goat will not drink when it is dark outside.  I guess that this is still tied back to survival insticts so that they don’t get ambushed at a watering hole at night by some cat.  But, they won’t drink when it is dark.  So, I waited till the sun came up this morning to break ice and fill waterers so that all of the stock could get a drink.  I even watered Tammy’s girls.  The chickens.  They have pretty well stayed inside that grainary since this vortex hit.  They’ve just done what hens do–crap, eat, crap, lay eggs, crap some more.  The bedding will have to be cleaned out of the coop as soon as it warms up.  That falls under the heading of NOT MY JOB.  Thank goodness I have a teenage son that literally needs to dig himself out of a hole.  Scooping some chicken crap ought to help his attitude.  

Stay warm.  Keep the wethers bundled up.  Make sure all of the stock gets a drink and can get out of the wind.  Have a good one and a warmer tomorrow.

This title may not make sense, but it should.  I’ve always tried to follow this rule, but I have deviated from time to time.  My dad instilled in me, “that no matter the species, you are raising meat in the end.  Don’t jeapordize the end product.”  We have always had excellent beef, pork and now goat meat in our family.  Of course, that year that he made me show sheep in 1984, we hauled them off.  But, doesn’t everybody haul sheep somewhere else?

Seriously.  

Like what you show. Show what you like.  

Think about it.

I got started showing in the early 80s.  With pigs.  The style at that time was puss-gutted barrows that couldn’t walk.  Dad and I didn’t like those.  So, we took a beating for a year or two.  Then, in the fall of 85, at the Shattuck Pig Sale, we liked a pair of littermate cross barrows.  One was belted and the other was a blue barrow.  They were sound, with muscle shape and could walk.  Jerry Brooks was the breeder and they were sired by Larry Brady’s Harry boar.  We got out bid on the hamp barrow–went to Texas (sign of things to come for many years, getting out bid by Texans).  We bought the blue butted barrow–$285.   This barrow won a lot of classes and made the OKC premium sale.  He was 8th overall in the carcass contest (remember that deal?)  He was only beat once in class all year and that was at Woodward District.  Bandit, the blue butt barrow, stood 2nd in class.  The judge was Dr. Bob Hines.  We got beat by a trimmer made barrow.  I didn’t like getting beat, but I understood why the judge did what he did.  He picked what he liked.  Not what was in style.  

I haven’t changed much in the 30 years plus of selecting stock. And it has cost me at times.  I have rules to live by when evaluating stock–Show animals must have a look, be balanced, plenty of muscle and be acceptable in terms of finish–not fat, but dang sure not thin.  Pigs have to be able to walk.  Cattle MUST be able to walk and walk and walk.  Regardless of species, structure is harder to breed.  Any idiot can breed for extremes.  Heavy boned–you bet, then we start pulling babies and doing C sections.  Freak muscle–yep, then the females quit being females.  But, keep it towards the middle with structure, balance and completeness takes a program that doesn’t just happen. It is planned for.  

I am still a believer that you should like what you show and show what you like.  We will show good looking, well balanced, complete animals that have plenty of muscle.  We will get beat by “extremities” in terms of muscle and animals that we deemed “off” in structure.  I’m fine with it.  

When you have to look at an animal for 4-12 months, you should like what you are looking at.  It should give you hope and satisfaction when you study the animals that you have on feed.  

Like what you show.  Show what you like.  

There are times that I have sorted animals, and competitors thought, “We don’t have to worry about that one.”  But they still got beat.  Why?  Not because I was smarter. But because that animal fit the showman, the family and how we knew how to feed.  

Like what you show.  Show what you like.  

Take what you like, and veer towards a certain judges tendencies.  Don’t get too extreme.  If you go to buying extremes, you often end up TOO extreme.  

That blue-butt pig is still fresh in my mind.  He got along under all judges that year.  Won classes at jackpots, local, county and OKC.  2nd at district was the worst.  But, there was a friend of mine that showed a pig at all of the same shows.  He sifted at ALL of the shows except 2.  At those 2 shows, he was grand and I was reserve grand.  To this day, I can still remember both judges of those shows.  I’m friends with one of the judges and Dad made me apoligize to the other judge who is a well known livestock judge.  For those times, and I stress TIMES, those judges were fine with their selections.  Although, I can still talk reasons on those grand drives. Which is easy to do if you like what you show and show what you like.  

My point, it is easier to show and feed an animal if you like what you are working with.  Feed towards your strengths.  Show towards your strengths.  Select for your strengths.  And if you are relying on help, do what they like.  And don’t question it.  If you don’t know what you are doing, then shut up and let your help do what they know and like.  If you just like a banner, then get out the way.  And let those people Like what you show and show what you like.  

Oh hell.  I’m getting dizzy.  Let’s just print some t-shirts and watch the shows.  

I’m not saying that I was any busier than you were.  I don’t even want to compare my days to others.  I just know that today was a full day.  I fired up the smoker early.  I haven’t been a brisket cook before, but I have been paying attention to others that do a dang good job with this non-prime cut of beef.  Tyke has always done a bang up job of smoking brisket.  Anyways, I smoked a brisket, a pork loin, some bologna and hot links. (It has become a requirement to fill space on the smoker with bologna).   Throw in some beans and we fed the county boys today.  Why?  These guys help take care of the Ag Farm, the county fairgrounds and any other thing around that they can help.  A meal is a simple THANK YOU to those guys!  

We wrapped up some shop projects.  The canned food drive is all but done.  The only thing left is to get the ice cream for the 5th graders since they brought the most.  I have almost had enough of hearing the creed recited.  Duke and AJ are excited that we castrated the last pigs tonight.  No, Duke nor AJ have show pigs, but they have held every pig this fall as I castrated and we vaccinated, wormed and whatever else you have to do to a pig these days, just to keep them acting like a pig.  

Then, home to do chores again.  I’m feeling the cold more so, than in the past.  Is it age, getting fat or is it this DAMN wind?  I am dreading this weekend as the weather experts are calling for some serious cold and wicked wind.  They never miss on this kind of forecast.  

Now, the SNL Christmas special is on.  How about those “Schwetty Balls”?  I know that it’s wrong, but it is still funny.  The dead pan delivery of Ana Gasteyer, Molly Shannon and Alec Baldwin is epic.  Oh, wow!  That is an old clip of John Belushi, Dan Akroyd and Chevy Chase lined up singing Winter Wonderland.  

How come social security is running out of money but welfare isn’t?  

The first group worked for the money.  The second group doesn’t.

Why are veterans benefits being cut, no pay raises for military personnel and our military is smaller than pre-World War II but we haven’t cut any spending for illegal aliens benefits?  

We are told to NOT judge all muslims by the actions of a few lunatics but all gun owners are judged according to the actions of a few morons.   

The price of a herd-changing buck can be over-powering.  It looks like this Bama football team may be over-powering.  The desire to stay inside instead of doing chores in mid teen temps can be over-powering.  

But, right now, at this time there is something over-powering me.  My left eye felt it first.  It kind of twitched, then began to water.  Then my nostrils.  Sniff. SNIFF.  Dang!  That woman is cutting a wicked stout onion in the kitchen.  I’m not sure how she can stand there and take it.  I’m twenty feet away and it is kicking me.  She is making tater soup.  It shouldn’t require a whole lot of onion, but I think that this particular onion may over-power all of the other ingredients in this soup.  

Oh well.  It could be worse.  She could be dicing some green bell peppers.  Now, that is some stuff that I can’t take.  

I’ve got something to say.  But I don’t remember what it is.  Had a guy, that has me beat by a few years, tell me that the memory is the first thing to go.  Then, he told the second thing.  But I don’t remember what it was.  

I’ve noticed, that when I get off the phone, I sometimes think,  “Wow, I bet that I sounded like an @.#$!”  At least in real life, the other party can tell if I’m meaning to sound like an ass or not.  

We tried to breed several does back in July.  Most didn’t come in heat.  A couple didn’t stick.  But, we moved one into the kidding barn tonight.  It is a bit early, but some are saying that it is supposed to get butt-ass cold the rest of the week.  This mating is a “planned gamble”.  Not sure if it will work or not.  But it was just one of those deals that I had to try.  Notice the I not We.  We might have a great one or maybe something to help a sale barn collect a commission.  It’ll work or I will wish that it would have.  

Hey!!!  Have a good one and a better tomorrow.  

Judging is an integral part of the livestock business.  As a producer, one has to constantly ask theirselves questions about judging.  Questions such as:  What are the show ring judgers looking for?  What do my animals need in order to make them sell higher?  How does this sire match up with that dam?  Am I raising a profitable enterprise?  What do I need to improve?  Basic Livestock Judging 101.

I’m not the only judge of livestock in this house.  Friday night, Tammy, Duke and I went to a newly opened Mexican restaurant in Woodward.  Dad had told me that the  original shop is dang good.  So we went to give it a try.  While there, we were seated next to a long group of tables.  Obviously some kind of Christmas Party.  As the guests began to come in and be seated, it became apparent that there was something going on with the UGLY Christmas sweaters.  Most of the women were wearing some ugly sweaters.  I’m reminded of the Real Men of Genius commercials.—“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  But, whoever be holding that thing be holding one ugly sweater.”

While we were eating, one of the women from the party came up to Tammy and asked if she could judge the Ugly Sweater contest.  Tammy asked if she had to give reasons.  Oh, how I was so hoping that there would be reasons.  I even offered to talk the reasons for the judge.  But no.  This was just a winner take all gift card kind of deal.  

They were actually pretty cool about how they handled it.  They had all of the ugly sweater wearers line up for a picture and asked if Tammy could take the picture.  Then, Tammy told the lady in charge which one was the grand champion.  She picked the right one.  The lady wearing a Christmas tree from chin to waist, complete with lights HAD to win!  However, Duke and I could make a case for the chick that had 2 snowmen on her sweater.  2 snowmen with 2 carrots for noses, sticking straight out from two…Duke look away.  Tammy asked what I thought of her placings.  My reply that sometimes, for a proper evaluation, you need to handle the stock in order to verify that your eyes aren’t lying to you…..well, it didn’t go over very well.  

Speaking of winning stuff.  Congrats to Addie Schneberger on her 2nd place at the state AFR speech contest.  Just a 4th grader!!!

Sometimes, you have a crappy week or two where you just kind of stand there like a kangaroo that just got punched in the face.  Then, you have to just square up and hit back.  I know, I know.  It’s retarded.  But google it.  

We needed a good weekend around this house.  It wasn’t good.  It was great!  I hope that you all had a great one as well.  And if you need a judge of ugly sweaters…we’ve got one.  Or two.  

Not a name, although I did work for a school superintendent at Waynoka named Dale Ross.  That dude was good to work for.  He didn’t want any credit for school success, he just wanted the credit for hiring good people that made Waynoka schools successful.  Not a bad way to operate.  

I know that my personal demeanor is not always a Ray Of SunShine.  I can sound sour as hell.  But my actions normally prove otherwise.  I will almost always help somebody.  Even when I shouldn’t.  Right now–the ag sector isn’t exactly sunny.  The show goat industry isn’t exactly sunny.  The stock show industry as a whole can make an addict like myself, think, dang , do they have a rehab for this?  This shit ain’t right.  

But then, I realize that I deal with kids that are better than most.  They can be a ray of sun shine.  I didn’t want the job that I have, but I kind of like the job that I am doing.  Even though I have to do it different than I know how to do it.  Doesn’t make sense?  Welcome to my world.  

i could complain about athletics, choir, drama, etc in this small school.  I could, but I won’t.  I look back to how I would have behaved in 1998 and it would not have been a ray of sunshine.  Actually, it would have been a block out the sun melt-down kind of day.  Not now, I just realize how many kids want to do good.  Despite the crap you watch on the news, we have good kids.  Actual Rays of SunShine.  They don’t just reside in Shattuck.  They are everywhere.  If you shut your TV and radio channels off, quit watching your facebook newfeed crap, walk away from the text messages and YOU WILL AGREE with me.  There are good kids all around us.  There are a lot of negative forces causing distractions.  And there is some scary crap out there,  but without a doubt, we are surrounded with Rays of Sun Shine.  Sometime, we just don’t look where we need to.  Common mistake.  

I challenge you all to go back to your nearest school and offer to teach.  One hour.  Sub for a day.  Chaperone a set of kids to a judiging contest, leadership event, sporting deal, whatever.  Try it.  All of you have real world info to offer.  Real stories.  I dare you.  Don’t talk crap about the schools, kids, teachers, etc. until you have tried it yourself.  Be a ray of sunshine.  Go tell your story.  Whatver it is.  Explain how you planned to be in the NBA, then you graduated high school and the real world kicked in and you realized that you were 5′ 11″, white and couldn’t dunk it.  But, now you run a successful what ever the heck as it doesn’t matter.  Like Nike, just do it.  

If you came here to find some negativity….. not here, not today.  Better catch me in person for those rays of sunshine.  Have a good one tomorrow.  I can’t speak for others, but me and mine are going to have a better tomorrow.  Even though today was great.  Tomorrow will be better.  I dare you to top that.  If you can…..GREAT!!!

Yep, 16 years ago tonight, the Kelln Klan was shacked up in a rental house in Waynoka.  Our home north of Waynoka had flooded that summer.  We had holed up in an apartment in town for a couple of months and then moved into an available house in town.  Tammy was now past 9 months pregnant.  She was HUGE.  We knew that it was going to be a boy.  The old German ladies in Shattuck had called it early that Tammy was going to have a boy.  They could just tell and they were right.  We weren’t suprised when the Dr. showed us the ultra-sound showing us the evidence of a future Kelln son.  

Kela was 10 when Duke came along.  She was excited to be getting a baby brother.  But then, on Nov. 30, 2000, the night before Tammy was to be induced to hatch this kid, Kela had a change of mind.  She locked herself in the bathroom and wouldn’t come out.  She had decided that she did NOT want a baby brother.  I mean she wanted to send him back.  She liked being an only child.  It took a lot of coaxing to get Kela to come out of the bathroom.  Now, I’m pretty sure that she would trade me in before her “little” brother.  The next morning, we were all present as Duke finally decided to enter this world.  As a sign of things to come, he was not in any hurry to get here.  Some things never change.  

Now, on the eve of Duke’s 16 th birthday, I realize that he is a teenage boy.  At times, he can do things that make you think that he is 12.  But most of the time, he will make very mature decisions.  He can do things that are well beyond his years.  He fits in well with older people.  I absolutely love how Duke treats other people–he is great with little kids, fits in well with his own age and older kids.  He absolutley treats his elders with respect.  As mild mannered and easy going as he always seems, there is an extreme fire that burns inside him.  You can cross him but do NOT cross his friends or family.  He will stand his ground!  He’s a great kid and without a doubt my favorite son.  As a bonus, he can shake a hand.  Try it.  He brings it.  

But, now he is turning 16 and yes, he will not be getting his driver’s license on this day.  His parents will stand their ground as he hasn’t taken care of school-work in a proper manner.  Grounded is the term.  His fault. Nobody elses’.  Plus, he’s driven more than his share of miles without the proper paperwork.  He can earn the right to be legal.  

I look at this kid and realize that he is the tallest person in this household (and still growing).  His work ethic and his morals are excellent.  His love of the outdoors, Waylon Jennings & Johnny Cash music, his dog, John Wayne movies and the desire to help others is awesome.  

Some have mentioned that Duke won a lot early in his show career.  He has had a perfectly steady career with some points higher than others and some a little lower than others, but actually a really steady line.  Exactly in Duke fashion–he has just taken care of business.  If you ask him his highlights of showing, he will either mention a pig show at Phoenix, a div. 1 champion goat at Tulsa named Lil Stevie Peaches or in true Duke fashion, he will tell a story of some show where one of his friends won and he got to help.  

I won’t trade him for any other kid.  However, I would gladly trade the feed bill that is tied to this kid.  My goodness, he goes through a lot of steaks and pizza rolls.  

P.S.  And speaking of babies, CONGRATS to the Sweet family on the newest addition.  James will gladly show you baby pics if you call him Grandpa.  

I like to read, watch and listen to random trivia.  Worthless crap that will only be valuable if any of you ever need to use me as a lifeline on that millionaire game show.  I also like to kind of learn about the behind the scenes info of successful people.  I also don’t sleep a whole lot.

It intrigues me as to some of the requests that big time stars have before they appear.  Beyonce, Mariah Carey and others have legendary requests/demands/etc.  This makes them a diva. Some rock stars have had some retarded requests.  Adele has a long list of demands.  kanye west is just retarded.  Of course, Will Ferrell’s list will just leave you laughing. Look this stuff up.

All of this led to me watching a kind of behind the scenes show about the rock band Van Halen.  I’ve been a Van Halen fan since the early, early 80’s, bigger fan when they released the 1984 album (yes, album ,tape, whatever).  I saw them live after they became Van Hagar.  Best set of solos that I have every seen–Alex Van Halen on the rising drum set that had lights to match his beat.  Michael Anthony on the bass was AWESOME.  Eddie Van Halen did what made the band famous.  And Sammy Hagar reminded me that he had been very successful before he joined Van Halen.  

One of the most legendary requests is from the early 80s and from the band–Van Halen.  They always requested, in their contracts, a bowl of M&Ms be placed in their dressing room.  AND all brown M&Ms must be removed.  Seems a bit weird, excessive, eccentric, whatever.  WTH?  

According to this rockumentary, there was a reason behind this assinine demand.  Here we go:  Van Halen has always had a demanding stage show including lots of flying over crowds, jumps, pyro, etc.  Their theory was that if they walked into a dressing room and there were brown M&Ms or there wasn’t even a bowl of M&Ms, then they knew to do more safety checks on the stage.  If a concert promoter didn’t take care of a simple item like having a bowl of M&Ms with the brown ones removed, what other important items did they skip over.  They didn’t want to get a band member or roadie hurt because somebody else didn’t follow the list of instructions.  In other words, read the fine print and take care of business.  

I’m about due a good concert.  I fondly remember the time that Connely Wade showed up at the Cimmaron Townhouses A-1 on Perkins Rd. in Stillwater to get me to go to AC/DC.  His wife couldn’t go and he had an extra ticket.  I first told him no and that I needed to study.  But then he pulled in and was blaring the horn.  Since it was pre-cell phone days, I just left a note on the dry-erase board for the roomies–Schoenhals and JayBog.  I just wrote “AC/DC”.  It was a Thursday night and I had 5 tests the next day.  I aced four of them and made like a terrorist and bombed the other one.  As country as Jay Bog has always been, he even admitted that he would have liked to see AC/DC.  

Have a good one and a better tomorrow.  Remember, bumbles bounce.  Have a holly, jolly Christmas!