My Think Piece

Chronicles Of Me The Story Behind Let That River Wash Me To The Gulf Of Mexico There is a story here and I think it is pretty clear and doesn't need explanation, but I want to add some other dimensions to the tale. First, it is true. Second, it is an amalgamation of two experiences, one with my father and the other with my daughter. My father had several heart attacks and other health issues but still lived alone in the manner he chose. A few months before his passing, I stopped by his place and asked him a question: “What was your first childhood memory?” That led to some pretty great stories! It turns out that we had a lot of shared memories which were a generation separated, and of things that neither of us was aware that the other knew. Just one example: There was a huge mulberry tree on a sandbar in the middle of the creek from which we both feasted, divided by 20 years. There were lots of others, and it was at that time that he told me that he had made pl

Chronicles Of Me When it Rains at the Rains County Fair No matter how dry gulch dusty life gets in small Texas towns, there is always a formula for bringing rain! This formula is not the ritual beating of drums, nor is it some frenzied dance of native agriculturalists or rockets fired by rainmakers but falls more in the category of a meteorological Murphy's Law. It works something like this: The chance of heavy rainfall is directly proportional to the distance you are from your pickup truck with the windows rolled down. We may also express it in this way: The probability of torrential downpours may be calculated by the number of bails of hay in the field, multiplied by the number of hay haulers who did not show up, and adding the number who left after picking up the first bail! By far, though, my favorite formula for rainmaking is chronological: The coming of the Rains County Fair! In those days it always rained during the fair, or at least it seemed th

Chronicles Of Me Why Grandpa Hated Doctors! My maternal grandfather hated doctors! He may have passed a bit of that distrust on to his children and grandchildren. This medical reluctance probably led to some poor health issues and an earlier than necessary death or two in the family, and most certainly his own! An odd focus for hatred one might think, but there is a reason behind it. When he was a young man his mother became ill with something that we would now, almost universally recognize as a stroke. He rushed her to the hospital and the doctors refused to treat her! Why? Because she was Native American! Racism of that stripe was far less subtle in those days, but don't pretend it has disapeared. It has simply gone underground and become more subtle and is now astoundingly confused. It still exists in less severe forms and differing names. Now, instead of being "Indians" or "Redskins" those people who are native to the Americas are m

Chronicles Of Me My Poorly Scheduled Heart Attack Okay, let me start by saying that I scheduled my heart attack at a very bad time...not that there is ever really a good time for one, but I do think that everyone should have one! (Not really but more about that later). I'm sort of starting out in the middle of the story here and will gradually explain it all in due time. Now, as for the heart attack itself, well, it went much better than I expected! The time from ambulance arrival at my place to recovery room was in my estimate, about 30 minutes! Once the stint was in place it was like all my high school distance running conditioning was reinstalled! It was amazing! Hence my reason for saying everyone should have one. Now, the process I am using to tell my story, as I said earlier, is sort of starting in the middle but it will all come together. Prior to the heart attack I had a case of Bell's Palsy which aggravated my pre-existing cataract problems which had slo

  Chronicles Of Me Farmers and Anarchists I know some anarchists of the libertarian type. I understand the concept, but the devil is in the details. I would be concerned that they might succeed in their endeavors, but I am not. I grew up with farmers and cattle ranchers in a farming and ranching community in rural East Texas. When I was very young (back in the days of the Goldwater Johnson race) my little mind made some realizations about politics and farming and a small statistical catalyst. 2 percent of the American population produced abundantly more food than the rest of the population could consume! This was foolishly, of such concern that the government was paying farmers not to grow some crops! What a problem! From there, it was a small intellectual step to realizing that farmers control food and could, if they were so inclined, control the country. It was a stark realization of the dangers of control and, strangely enlightening to know those I lived and worked w